by Hugh Cook
'What?' said Drake, alarmed, imagining he was in for an impromptu riverside execution.'Off!'
'But we're leagues from the city yet.' 'That's why we haven't cut your legs off. Come on, out!'
Reluctantly, Drake went ashore, and the galley turned around and, oars keeping to a regular rhythm, began to make its way upstream. Back to Selzirk. Well. He had life and freedom still. But a long hard walk ahead of him. He was still weak from imprisonment.
But I'll work on that, man. Sword, that's the way. Work rigorous daily.
Drake, thirsty, drank from the dirty brown water of the river. He deserved to die for such foolishness, but the wisdom of Ling preserved him, for the myriad genetically tailored worms infesting his body kept him safe from every toxin and zyme.'March,' said Drake to Drake.And set out for Androlmarphos.
A long, slow journey he had of it, with the sun scalding his prison pallor, and his prison-soft feet slowly going into blisters. At the city gate, he found a rabble of armed men drinking, gambling, bartering and gossiping. One stirred himself to confront Drake, asking:'Sen fedda nanishV'Speak you the Tongue?' said Drake.
T have the Galish. Who are you, to risk yourself at Lord Menator's gate?'
T be Lord Menator's loyal servant,' said Drake, 'and require audience with him immediately.'
'Then that you will have, for Lord Menator requires any wanderers to be brought before him immediately. He wants no spy, assassin or alien arsonist to run loose in his imperial capital.'
Thus Drake was taken in charge and led through the streets of Androlmarphos to Menator's headquarters. He began – far too late! – to worry. He remembered that Menator had put a price on his head. Why hadn't he thought of that sooner?
Why, man, because this torture and stuff has left me but half of a brain.
He hoped he pulled himself together, fast. But Androlmarphos seemed scarcely the right city in which to convalesce. Drake was not fussy and fancy, but, nevertheless, the streets of 'Marphos appalled him with their noise, filth, stench and gross over-crowding.
Stinks worse than Selzirk's dungeons. And that's something!
The city was but a league from north to south; its tottering tenements had always been crowded, and now were packed beyond endurance. The harbour was choked with ships; other vessels were anchored in nearby Lake
Ouija, while some shifted as best they could in river estuaries. 'Marphos, holding its usual residents, additional hostages seized from the hinterland, pirates, mercenaries of all descriptions, renegade soldiers from the Harvest Plains and horses by the thousands besides, was a quartermaster's nightmare.
But Menator's my nightmare true, that's for real. Hates me, doesn't he? Jealous of luck and talent, I suppose.
Drake urged himself to courage. Surely, under the circumstances, Lord Menator would not be vindictive. The rose-tattooed man, flushed with victory, would surely be magnanimous.
Much will depend on how I speak. And speaking's my best, isn't it? Yes.
Drake told himself that, once he got an audience with Menator, he would surely get permission to meet with Elkor Alish. Surely Alish would give him the proofs he needed to secure the release of both the Warwolf and his blood-brother Walrus.
Drake imagined how they would gratulate him. Jon Arabin would laugh out hearty, slap him on the back and call him a man, yes. The Walrus would scowl, swear, then mutter something grudging in acknowledgement.
'Heigh ho,' said Drake to Drake. 'It's great to be a hero!'
Shortly, he was ushered into the presence of Menator, who, after making himself lord of all the pirates, had leagued with Elkor Alish to seize Androlmarphos. Menator was sitting in state like an emperor. But, seated on a throne of equal height, was a graceful, lyncean, lordly man, Elkor Alish himself. These two – so far -were ruling as equals.
'Drake Douay,' said Menator, caressing Drake's name in a way which reminded Drake of Plovey of the Regency. 'Drake Douay, beloved of King Tor. What brings you here?''A mission of life and death,' said Drake.'You think to threaten me on behalf of Selzirk, then.'
'You won those words from the air,' said Drake. 'You judge me wrong.'
'Iknowyouof old,' saidMenator. 'I passed judgment on you long ago.'
'Don't silence me fast!' said Drake, a touch of desperation in his voice. 'Or you'll never hear of Morgan Hearst and all.'
'Of Hearst?' said Elkor Alish, he of the elegant clothes and the square-cut black beard. 'Tell!'
So Drake told his story, clearly, briefly and with only a bare minimum of exaggeration. He held nothing back. He offered up the documents he had been told to take to Elkor Alish, and concluded:
'. . .so you see, all I need is a note in the hand of the good lord Alish. Then we can have two of the world's best pirate captains back to fight with us, aye, to tear down the towers of Selzirk, burn out their law courts, pull down their prisons, lynch their gaolers, kill out the Regency entire, string up Watashi and torture the torturers to death.''Admirable sentiments,' said Alish, with a smile.
Then he conferred with Menator. They spoke in something close to a whisper: nevertheless, their disagreement was plain. Finally, Alish said to Drake:'You must talk in private with the pair of us.'
With some trepidation, Drake accompanied the two warlords into a private chamber where they interrogated him in depth and in detail, until his head spun. The questions they asked! What signs had he seen of war? Of the arming of men? The disposition of cavalry? The stockpiling of fodder? The movement of stores? The building of ships?
They were on at him till nightfall, by which time he was fatigued to the point of death. Both were intensely interested in the conflict between Watashi and the Regency -thinking obviously, that here was something they could exploit.
When they were finished, Drake mustered up his boldest voice and spoke:
'I've done my best, man. Now what about my note, that I may rescue Walrus and Warwolf? There's not much time left, you know.'
'You may have no note,' said Menator, 'for you have seen what you have seen, and they will use you as a spy if you return. You've sharp eyes about you: that you've proved by your answers.'
'He'll tell them no more than they know already,' said Alish.T ask you not to defy me in this,' said Menator.
After some argument, Alish – against his better judgment – yielded to Menator over what was to him a small matter. But it was no small matter to Menator. He loved the thought of Walrus and Warwolf being tortured to death: he had wanted, for a long time, to be rid of them once and for all.'Menator, man,' said Drake.One last chance. But a good one.'What say you?' said Menator.
'I say you're missing a grand opportunity, man. You think of me as enemy, that's plain, but I could be ally for real. Listen – you've got 'Marphos, true, but Selzirk is strong. You need all the help you can get.''What help are you?' said Lord Menator.
'It's King Tor who'd be help if I spoke to him right,' said Drake. 'I could go to the province of Hok, aye, summon him out of the mountains, march his men to your banner.'Menator laughed.
'What's so funny, man?' said Drake, in anger. 'Haven't you heard?' said Lord Menator. 'King Tor is dead. He died this last winter. Killed on Stokos he was.' 'How came it?' said Drake.
'Your ogre-king gambled at war,' said Lord Menator. 'He left Hok with what men remained to him. He landed on Stokos. Many flocked to his banner. Then those who ruled in Cam were sore afraid.'T bet they were!' said Drake. 'Tell on!'
'With pleasure,' said Menator, for this was one of his favourite stories, and it was rare for him to meet ainan who did not know it backwards. 'It happened that those who held Stokos for Gouda Muck fought savage battles with Tor. The result.was a draw.''They split the island in half?' said Drake.
'No,' said Lord Menator. 'They sat licking their wounds, thinking. Those who ruled in the name of the Flame thought best. They sent to the Teeth, inviting me to take their side in return for the rule of Stokos. It was their lives they were fearing for, you see.''Gutless cowards!' said Drake. 'I see
right enough!'
'So I sailed my ships to Stokos,' said Lord Menator. 'That turned the balance. King Tor's men saw that all was lost. So they murdered their king. They brought the ogre's head to Sudder Vemlouf in Cam. By that time, of course, I was ruling above Vemlouf.'
'So you won your war with the blood of others!' said Drake, shocked at how filthy power politics could be.
'Isn't that always the best way to win a war?' said Lord Menator, grinning.
He was doing well for himself. He had won the rule of the Greater Teeth; he had conquered Stokos; he commanded Androlmarphos. He was well on the way to fulfilling his ambition to conquer the western seaboard of Argan.
'Now,' said Lord Menator, 'the question arises – what shall we do with Drake Douay?'
'I see you don't like the man,' said Elkor Alish. 'But that's no excuse for killing him.''You wouldn't stand for it?' said Menator.
'My war is fought for reasons which are pure,' said Alish. 'I'll not stain my hands with the blood of the innocent – or stand aside and watch the innocent murdered, either.'
'But we must do something with this unruly fellow,' said Menator, 'or he'll scarper back to Selzirk to try something rash to rescue his Walrus and Warwolf. We wouldn't want to see him in Selzirk betraying our secrets, would we now?''I'd betray nothing!' said Drake, defiantly.
'Under torture,' said Menator, 'even the best will betray everything.''That's but theory talking,' said Drake.
'We can put theory to test, if you wish,' said Menator blandly.'No thanks!' said Drake.
So it came to pass that Drake Douay (also known as Arabin lol Arabin and Shen Shen Drax, as the Demon-son and other things), was placed in preventive detention aboard one of the ships moored in the harbour of the city of Androlmarphos.
Which was soon beleaguered by an army from the city of Selzirk.
50
Drake's training in preventive detention: with the knife; with sword; in combat against ghosts and shadows. He alarms his jailors with the intensity with which he rages against imprisonment. Sweat, rage and endeavour allow him to win back his strength. The elegant Elkor Alish, rated by many as the best swordsman of Rovac, visits him twice to check on his conditions, and, impressed by his dedication, gives him some pointers on technique and on training.Then Alish visits no more: for there is war.
The Harvest Plains finally responded to the capture of Androlmarphos by sending an army from Selzirk to lay seige to the place. That army was commanded by Morgan Hearst, a warrior of Rovac, who had once been a battle-companion of Elkor Alish.
Nothing daunted, Elkor Alish led his troops out of the planning to break the strength of Selzirk on the plain of battle. But the chances of war gave Hearst the victory. Alish, his battle-strength broken, retreated behind the walls of Androlmarphos. After a brief siege, Morgan Hearst used the death-stone against those walls. A few defenders escaped to sea; the rest, for the most part, died.
Since Drake was in preventive detention, he missed the preliminary skirmish which saw Lord Menator of the tattooed rose killed outside the walls of Androlmarphos. And he took no part in the Battle of the Pyramid Plain, or in the defence of 'Marphos. But he did see something of
the terrors of the attack which drove Alish and his allies from the city.
Before Drake's ship got away to sea, Drake saw walking rocks raging on the docks of 'Marphos, conjured to life by the death-stone. He had heard much of that rock-waking magic from Atsimo Andranovory in Selzirk, but had believed none of it until he saw those living rocks in rage.
Morgan Hearst commandeered some ships and gave chase to the few survivors – but, after a desperate battle at sea, Elkor Alish and some of his men escaped. Drake, by luck, was amongst them. By then, Drake had long since finished his weeping for Walrus and Warwolf; he counted himself lucky to have got away with his own life when so many thousands had perished.
Freedom delighted him. In the brightness of sun and sea, the horrors of helpless imprisonment and dreadful torture lost their grip on his imagination. He began to feel quite his old self again.
On the voyage between 'Marphos and Runcorn (a city still held by Elkor Alish), Drake had some strange meetings with faces from the past.
He met up once again with Forester, a strangely naive fellow whom he'd first met on the attempted voyage to Ork which had ended in sea-wreck disaster. He also renewed his acquaintance with Bluewater Draven, sometime commander of the Tusk, whom he had last seen on Chag-jalak in the North Strait, when pirates escaping from Collosnon captors had taken to the sea in separate boats.
Drake and Bluewater Draven had some wild fun with Forester, making him believe the most unbelievable stories about their exploits. They had success with outright lies which they would never have had with the truth, for the truth (about flying islands and such) was scarce believable except to those who had lived through it.
Drake had some anxieties about landing at Runcorn, where he had once ruled as Arabin lol Arabin, head of his own temple and master of City Hall. But he found, to his relief, that most of the original population had been killed, exiled or sold into slavery.
The city was on short commons. Under the ruthless rule of Elkor Alish, everyone was rationed to a single mug of beer a day, plus a little rice and vivda. Drake could see the sense in that, but, without any shame whatsoever, was soon heavily involved in black market bartering, and profiting greatly from his activities.
He soon found a groggery which suited him, a thievish den which took no heed of rationing, and he was there one morning drinking koumiss and dining on macedoine, when he was hailed by a familiar voice:'Drake!'
It was Jon Arabin. Drake, leaping to his feet, spilt both food and drink together.'Jon!' he cried. 'Jon, is it really you?''Who else would it be, man?' said the Warwolf.'But you're – you're dead!'
'Aye, dead and resurrected,' said Jon Arabin. 'But none the.worse for it.'
The next moment they were in each other's arms, slapping each other on the back, both laughing yet near to tears.'Do I get a cuddle?' said a voice.It was Slagger Mulps, the Walrus himself.
'No cuddles, unless you can pay for them,' said Drake. 'But – have a bowl of kale, man, and a mug of ale. Bar! Serve up for my friends!'
Soon all three were seated at table deep in food, drink and conversation. Great stuff! Old comrades true together. It made the place feel almost like home . . .'How did you get away from Selzirk?' asked Drake.'Ah,' said Jon Arabin. 'Thereby hangs a tale.'
And, with some help from the Walrus, Arabin told a fabulous tale about how they had variously bribed, deceived and outwitted their gaolers, killed guards, escaped to an underground tunnel, footed it for fifty leagues in utter darkness, fought with a giant worm, exited from the tunnel into a cave deep in the Spine Mountains, purchased a flying carpet from an old wizard, then navigated to Runcorn by air.
Drake only half-believed this tale, but doubted there was any chance of getting the truth out of them.
Actually, both Walrus and Warwolf – along with everyone else in every dungeon in Selzirk – had been released and pardoned as part of the victory celebrations which followed the liberation of Androlmarphos. But, honour being what it is, they would never confess to such charitable treatment.
'Now let's hear you talk,' said the Walrus. 'And let's talk frank, as we couldn't talk in Selzirk.'
'What's there to be frank about?' said Drake. 'But for your bad breath, your rotten teeth and the boil in the middle of your forehead.'
The Walrus, still weak from the terrors of imprisonment, took this hard. But he could not show how Drake's rough words hurt him – for he knew a pirate was not supposed to be so sensitive. Still, while he could not complain directly, there was another way in which he could strike back.'Let's talk of Penvash, to start with,' said Mulps.
He would punish Drake a bit. Make him sweat over the matter of a stolen tinder box.
'Penvash?' said Drake. 'What about it? We killed some green-eyed dogs up there, aye. Is that what you're on about? I s
uppose they were your relations and all!'
Slagger Mulps, who had endured many a joke about his green eyes in years gone by, took this one hard.
'You ran off,' said Mulps, a touch of open anger in his voice. 'Ran, aye. Left us in hardship for days.'
'Hardship?' said Drake. 'I thought you green-haired animals were bred for the cold.'
'Aagh!' said the Walrus. He spat, discreetly, into a bloodstained handkerchief. Then said: 'So where did you bugger off to after you stole our tinder box?'
'Man, I did no stealing,' said Drake. T was hot after
Yot with the others when there was a bear or something, I don't know. A monster, maybe.''What kind of monster?' said Jon Arabin.
'Man, I know not,' said Drake, 'but I woke a long way later leagues and leagues from anywhere with a bloody head and bruises from gills to arsehole.''From mating with this bear, perhaps,' said Mulps.
'Gah!' said Drake, 'you'd be expert on buggering bears and such!'
He spoke freely, to show his friendship. For friends slanged off at each other with no holds barred – that was part and parcel of friendship. Thus Drake, who these days thought better of the Walrus than he had once, spoke to him as freely as he used to speak with Pigot Quebec and other criminal friends in Selzirk of the thousand sewers.
This last sally of Drake's brought Mulps close to tears – but again the Walrus concealed his hurt, and, after coughing a little more tubercular blood into a handkerchief, demanded:'And the girl?'
'Girl?' said Drake, looking round the groggery. 'There's one in the corner there, she's got but one ear yet the rest looks staunch enough. Would she be any good to you?'
'Don't play the fool with me, or I'll nubble you,' said Mulps, though he was so weakened by prison that he was scarce fit to fight a mouse.'Nubble away then!' said Drake, boldly.