The Vaeden Quest, Evelyn J. Steward [phonics books .TXT] 📗

fist on the table to the consternation of the first Prince who sat closest and had, at these times, to grab his mug tightly lest it spill onto his finery. No man disturbed their machinations. No man dared!
The conversation went easy at first and the brothers gave the impression that they had nothing to hide.
"You see, Gruvod, we must have your assistance. In return we send wealth and fighters at the appropriate time." The first man was addressing the Upland King. "You have seen our gems and the quality of our gold is far superior to that mined here. To show no ill feeling of course, we will leave you with just one item. I think you rather liked the large green, to show to your er . . . counsel, I believe you said?"
"Tribal Leader's Conclave. But can I trust you? After all, you will be down there in that dark cold world where I cannot follow. I am not a lover of water, my Lords, either to drink or bathe in!" Gruvod laughed awkwardly at the joke that went unnoticed by the other two, and his eyes glinted with animal sagacity in the sparse light as he out-stared the brothers.
The younger man jumped out of his seat with rage, his hand on his bejewelled hip knife. "My brother's word is not to be questioned. When he makes a pledge, he keeps it. You have a gem there large as a bicter's egg, does that not show our good intentions?" His eyes squinted with rage as he watched Gruvod's head slowly nod. "As long as you play your part," he continued, "you will soon be allied to the Warshaa Throne." Two red spots gleamed on his cheeks, "is that not good enough for you, Mighty Gruvod?" he added sarcastically.
This Prince was barely a man, only recently having completed his Quest, with assistance from Gruvod's spies. Herrsal was too new to adulthood to trade off against this warrior lord. Wet eared, hadn't his brother called him not long since, and cautioned him to keep his mouth shut?
Gruvod swiftly realised his judgement was wrong in thinking it would be an easy matter to out-manoeuvre the two Princes. He knew that he was much stronger than both of the brothers and could kill each one as easily as spitting a swinet, but if he did, there would be no jewels to augment his treasury, no gold to line his Chest and certainly no females to use or subject to slavery. He must choose a different approach, even though it galled him.
"My Lords please . . . please do not take my meaning wrongly," Gruvod tried to placate this young man. He swallowed, raising his hands in front of him trying to calm the situation. "It is just that I have never dealt with people of Warshaa so closely before. After all, it was my father who had previous dealings with your people and then only in passing so to speak, whilst I have only met your good selves at the time of your Quests."
Gruvod mentally reiterated the swift caution to his lips. I must be more cautious with these slimy undersea apologies for men he thought. One more slip like that and I shall be forced to have them killed before they try to kill me and then where will I line my Chest as liberally. Without the alliance, there will be no steady supply of the gold I so desperately need to subjugate the few remaining tribal Shaks and their peoples. With those thoughts in mind Gruvod burst into hearty laughter to dispel the tension, and called for more liquer.
A young serving girl with straggled brown hair and a dirty grey gown brought in a tray of assorted liqueurs for the men to choose from. She had been waiting patiently behind the door leading to the serving alcove and the rear of the dwelling, waiting in case the need arose. She had seen Gruvod's slip. Had realised how close he had come to ruining this venture which he had been planning secretly for several cycles in the hope that the Princes would come to him. Planning since he had first captured Rishlan on Quest, realising the potential of the situation.
"Over here girl," Gruvod called, her was still laughing as she poured his favoured liquer into his mug. Both Warshaa Lords declined more of the brew and waved the girl away. She shot a sly glance at the pale pair before picking up the empty mugs. The eyes of the men were on her and she noted the lascivious look that the younger Lord gave her.
Gruvod watched as the young Water Lord slowly and sensuously licked his lips. Here was a turn, he thought, interpreting the subliminal message the Prince was sending the server. As the girl made to leave she paused at Gruvod's seat. His eyes still on the young man, he flung his arm around her hips and tugged at her skirt. An imperceptible nod passed between them and she dutifully gave the young man a quick smile, then turned and slipped quietly through the heavy door covering to wait until she was needed again.
Through a liquer-filled haze, Gruvod saw the eyes of his guest follow the retreating girl. He noted their intensity and knew that if there had been time the young Lord could have been his for the price. He could have used that look to advantage, it was a look he recognised as one of his own.
"Alright my Lords. We have a bargain," Gruvod agreed. He placed his hand on the table fingers spread, the Water Lords placed their hands over his to seal the pledge. Gruvod shivered as he looked at those hands, the Lords displayed slight webbing between each digit. The webbing and horizontal gill slits at the base of the throat, closed now in the Upland atmosphere, were the only other differences between the two people. The gill slits were hard to see beneath the high collars of the Princes cloaks and it was only that Gruvod knew of them from Rishlan's capture.
The King continued to mask his face outwardly whilst his mind was even now hatching an idea of how to keep this bargain and be the better off at the end of it all. These two will not be easy to fool, he thought, I must think this one out very carefully. I do wish I had known they were coming sooner than this morning, for that was when he received the message of the impending visit. Barely just enough time to send to his inland tanted Enkampment to summon Rarsht.
Much as he hated to admit it, Gruvod still needed Rarsht. Not enough of his men had been seconded to the East as yet and Rarsht had a whole Tribe to be quelled. To be sure, Gruvod had many new fighters from the most recent alliance but there was no way that he would trust so newly a conquered people to acquiesce to his demands.
Loyalty demanded time and the doctrines of a core of totally devoted men, acting on his behalf in a way that would ensure that the loyalty was not half-hearted. That the kind of obedience he required would be well rewarded and that the conquered also completely understood what would happen to any insurgent.
These water men had almost made a fool of him in front of his entourage, sending a messenger, summoning him to meet them in his own quarters indeed! What was more, it gave him little time to organise. Gruvod thanked his God that he had been far-sighted in keeping the Enkampment close and filled with talented men. He had formulated plans a long time ago never thinking that he would have the chance to put the plans into action, he was never really certain the Rishlan would ever return, much less his younger brother taking the same route.
It had been pure luck that one of his earlier battles had been close to the beach where Rishlan was divesting himself of Upland garb, prior to his return from Quest to his home city of Primmel. His guards had brought Rishlan before him for a nights entertainment. That Rishlan, Gruvod thought. He was a smooth talker that one. I'll bet he could talk himself out of almost anything, certainly made me sit up and listen.
Rishlan had told Gruvod of the wonders of the ocean, of his life in the undersea kingdom of Warshaa and of how he and his brother shared the King's Cautresh with their mother, the King's Consort. He whetted Gruvod's appetite with stories of veins of gold to be had for small effort; of the incredible jewels that lay hidden in secret hordes few knew about. He also shared the knowledge of a kingdom peopled by females. Gruvod had inwardly drooled at the sound of all the riches that could be his for the taking, if only . . .!
If only he could get control of this kingdom full of women. The thought of it whetted his appetite even more. Lots more women, unusual women for his indulgence, his favourite pastime.
It had been past five cycles since that fateful encounter. Only a half cycle past when he renewed his ambitions as Herrsal, the younger brother, appeared at his Enkampment requesting help on his Quest. The plans he made earlier he knew he must activate, in the light of what had been discussed this evening, it was imperative that his Conclave have full knowledge of the Princes' offer. The gem was flawed, Gruvod's eyes had seen it clearly, but there was enough good stone left to make a sizeable trinket for his hand to display.
The far moon Caein was showing dimly on the horizon when the Warshaa Lords slipped out by the back exit and melted away into the night. Neither Vaana or Oooona, the larger moons, were waxing yet and the Water Lords were appreciative of the near darkness that cloaked their departure. Neither Rishlan nor Herrsal were stupid enough to think that they were the only ones to have spies planted throughout this harsh Upland world.

Gruvod drank deeply of another draught of liquer, quite pleased with the evenings work. "Come Felisa," he called, "help me to my bed." The girl in the grey gown slipped from behind the drape where she had been waiting for the strangers to leave. She quickly cleared away the mugs and liqueurs unwilling to wake the servers, long since sent to their beds. Had her father been sober he would have insisted that they be woken to fulfil there tasks, after all she was the daughter of a King now and as such should act like a Princess.
She helped Gruvod to his feet. He swayed and Felisa knew he had drunk more than was good for him this night. "Here father, put your arm around my shoulder," Felisa cajoled, "I can manage you better that way."
"Felisa, my dutiful daughter," Gruvod's words were slurred and she could smell the harsh liquer thick and strong on his breath. "Take me to my bed before I fall down." He was drunk without intention. For a man used to heavy drinking, actual drunkenness was an unexpected state and his befuddled mind sensed that something was amiss.
Although his feet were dragging, she managed to get him up to the second level and onto