The Walrus and the Warwolf coaaod-4

by Hugh Cook

  'Why, no,' said Zanya. 'Quite the reverse. For, as guardian of his purity, I have to serve him in the ways of flesh. But that's pure, you know, when it's done with someone holy. He likes to be licked in the-''Silence!' roared the prosecutor.

  'Really,' said Judge Syrphus, 'there is no need for the prosecutor to bellow as if we were in the midst of a thunder storm. Go on, girl, tell us what Muck likes to have licked.'Zanya told.'Really?' said Judge Syrphus. 'How often? And when?'

  And Judge Syrphus led the examination for some considerable time thereafter, discovering the intimacies of the private life of Gouda Muck.

  'So,' said Judge Syrphus, when he knew all, 'it was pure and holy for Gouda Muck to use you in carnal ways, since he was a preacher who cared mostly for the religion he espoused, rather than for you yourself. On the other hand, Drake Douay loved you – or so I understand from what he earlier told the Court – therefore his lust for you was wrong. That sounds very strange to me.''Yes,' said Zanya, slowly, 'very strange.'

  'But,' said the prosecutor, 'this case has nothing to do with sex. It is all to do with the public menace posed by Drake Douay to the religion, government, wealth and law of Selzirk, by reason of the devilish ability he showed in Runcorn, where he overthrew the lawful government and established a reign of terror and of abominable practices.'

  'I think, sir,' said Zanya, 'you stand in error. For it was not Drake Douay who did that, but Arabin lol Arabin. They are two entirely different people.'

  'You testify so?' said the prosecutor. 'I will have you swear to that by the Flame!'

  And Zanya so swore. Yes, swore it in a cool and steady voice, which none could doubt. She had changed since she had walked into that courtroom.

  For a start, she had learnt why Drake had abandoned his quest to reclaim her. He had not been roistering with lewd women, as she had imagined: instead, he had been suffering cruel imprisonment for crimes he never committed. And dreaming of his true love while he lay behind bars.

  Also, she had been given cause to cast her mind back to the glorious days in Penvash, when her love for Drake had first been kindled by the respect he had shown her and the protection he had given her from lustful pirates.

  She had also been made to remember his performance in the arena at Dalar ken Halvar. She had very clear, distinct memories of him killing at least two monsters, single-handedly, and maybe a third as well. And what were the first words he had said to her, as he cut her loose? As she remembered it now, they were:T love you.'

  All this gave her cause to make a final decision on her commitment to Goudanism. Effortlessly, she abandoned her belief in the Flame. Her faith had been steadily weakening for a long time now. Indeed, when she had first learnt in Runcorn that Drake was the one accused of being the son of the demon Hagon, at least half her shock had been at the way he had failed to trust her with the knowledge of the accusations.But now…

  All was forgiven.

  Judge Syrphus refused to hear further argument, but, instead, gave judgment and summed up:

  'The case against Drake Douay is of course dismissed. It represents, as any fool can see, an attempt by a dirty old man to remove a sexual rival who is a younger and altogether more attractive man. The Court is satisfied that

  Drake Douay is indeed meek, mild and pious, and entirely lacking in political ambition.

  'He may have made one mistake in his youth, with respect to a cheap and nasty sword, one of the hundreds owned by Gouda Muck, but what of it? A young man is entitled to one mistake. Since then, he has lived humbly and quietly though he rose to the occasion and performed heroically when that was necessary for him to save his beloved lady.

  'Even though I'm having trouble meeting my quota, I'm letting Drake Douay go free, for that is only just.

  'Fortunately, Gouda Muck's own testimony shows him to be a dangerous, ambitious, reckless and destructive man. We have heard how he overthrew the rightful religion of Stokos, how he speaks with evil spirits dwelling within furnaces, and indulges in all manner of private perversion under the cloak of religion.

  'Consequently, I have no hesitation in ordering that a warrant be issued for the arrest of Gouda Muck, that he may be tried on a charge of being a public menace. And I appoint myself judge of his case!'Thus the trial came to an end.

  One of the spectators, who had watched the whole proceedings with interest, was Plovey of the Regency. After the trial, he met Drake and Zanya.

  'Darling boy,' said Plovey, to Drake. 'No! Say nothing hasty! We've had hard words between us in the past, I know. But did I not invite you to dine with me and my darling wife if you ever had the occasion?'

  'You did,' said Drake, thinking he should really kill Plovey on the spot.

  'Today, then,' said Plovey, 'I invite you to do more. I invite you, and your beloved, to enjoy the hospitality of my house. For a day – for fifty days, if need be. For I have always admired you as a remarkable young man. Indeed, I may be able to hold out some prospect of gainful employment for you.'

  What kind of employment? Knifework, perhaps. Might pay well. And there would be time enough to murder Plovey later. Revenge – as others have noted – is a dish well worth eating even when cold.'Darling,' said Zanya, 'have we anywhere else to go?'Drake considered, and then:

  'It would be a crime,' he said, 'for me to refuse such generous hospitality.'

  Plovey had, amongst other things, aroused his curiosity: Drake was keen to learn exactly what kind of proposition the Regency bureaucrat had in mind.

  55

  Plovey zar Plovey: a career bureaucrat of the Regency; had a hand in the torture and interrogation of Drake Douay, and in the despatch of Drake to Androlmarphos with letters for Elkor Alish.

  By the time Drake and Zanya had finished kissing, Plovey had summoned a cab to take the three of them to Plovey's house, which was in Santrim. They climbed inside; the cabby flicked his whip; with a jingle of bells, the horse began to move; they were off.'We've won,' said Zanya.'So we have,' said Drake.

  They had salvaged their love from the wreckage of the past, and had made good their escape from the terrible machinery of the law.Drake and Zanya kissed.Plovey pretended not to notice.

  'Friend Drake,' said Plovey, 'would you like to live in Selzirk?''If I could,' said Drake.

  'I'm sure you can,' said Plovey. 'A job should be no trouble, no trouble at all.'

  He did not elaborate, and Drake did not ask for details. Instead, he held Zanya's hand and watched the passing streets.

  'Here we are,' said Plovey, as the cab halted. 'This is my house.'

  Plovey paid off the cabby and led them through the gate and onto his own property.

  The house was small, yet elegant. It had a small courtyard with a fountain set in the centre of a lily pond. Amidst the lilies swam carp. Some were pure gold, the ultimate in xanthochroism. Others were piebald, while some of the more motley specimens were blotched with as many as half a dozen different colours.

  Drake paused and watched the fish swim amidst the cool water. The sun was warm on his back. He was suddenly reminded of a day long, long ago at Ling, when he had sat in a canoe by the side of the Warwolf, watching fish in the limpid waters of Ling Bay. Life had been so simple then! And his hopes had been so high.

  He had expected, in those days of his innocence, to make a swift return to Stokos, and, within a couple of years, to make himself a priest or a prince, and acquire Zanya Kliedervaust as his pleasure woman. Instead . . .Well…At least he had Zanya.At least that part of his dream had come true.

  He gazed at the fish. It must be so comfortable being a fish. What perfect control. . .'You like fish?' said Plovey.'They're . . . they're all right,' said Drake.

  In truth, he felt he could have stood there staring at them all day. How long since he had been free to gaze on something beautiful? For as long as he could remember, he had been living in a nightmare . . .

  'Come inside,' said Plovey. 'Darlinda will be waiting for us.''Who's Darlinda?' said Zanya.'Why, my darlin
g wife, of course,' said Plovey.

  Inside the house, it was cool. Plovey showed Drake and Zanya the bedroom where they would sleep that night, then he introduced them to his darling wife Darlinda, a petite little thing with a subservient manner and a broken nose.

  'Darlinda,' said Plovey, 'get some water and wash the feet of our honoured guests.' This Darlinda did, silently.

  While his feet were being washed, Drake closed his eyes. An overwhelming wave of weariness swept over him. At last he had reached a place of comfort, safety and indulgence. At last the nightmare days were over.

  'Tired?' said Plovey. 'Perhaps the two of you would like to rest.'

  Drake and Zanya accepted this suggestion. They retired to the bedroom, but they did not give themselves to love, for both were emotionally exhausted. Instead, they cuddled into the safety of each other's arms, and went to sleep.Drake slept.

  Systole and diastole, his heart maintained his life while his mind wandered in the world of dreams. He dreamed of an orphan's cry, of a homeless woman weeping, of vagabond winds roaming a plain of dust and ruins, of nations hungering to starvation … of a time a thousand generations hence, when all his world had passed out of memory. . .Drake woke.Tears were in his eyes.

  Zanya lay in his arms breathing softly, sweetly. Familiar smell of her breath. Strand of red hair trailing across her lips. Flickers of dream beneath her eyelids. He kissed her, gently, lightly, then closed his own eyes once again.

  And fell asleep to dream of eating, of turtle soup and dragon steaks, of basilisk pie and ribs of gryphon, of bananas and peaches, chicken and duck.

  So dreaming, Drake slept until Darlinda woke them with the news that the first course of the evening meal would shortly be served.

  That evening, a lutist played for their entertainment, and Plovey's darling wife served them the most marvellous meal. Wines free of sediment were brought to them in cut crystal, which even Drake knew to be fabulously expensive and wondrous rare.

  Drake and Zanya exchanged many glances, saluted each other quietly in wine, and touched feet beneath the table. Their sleep had revived them. Both knew they would be ready for all kinds of wickedness once the meal was done.Candles were lit as the evening darkened.

  Course after course was served, with many delicate things to tempt the palate. There were freshwater crayfish from Chenameg, and tender scrawls from the seacoast. There were interesting stews served in dainty bowls, and nuts to knapple on between courses.

  But the piece de resistance was a rich, hot curry full of bizarre and exciting tastes. To Drake, it felt like eating fire. He glutted himself on it.

  Then the dishes were cleared away by Plovey's indefatigable wife (who had not yet eaten herself), a flutist joined the lutist, and Plovey offered round cigars which contained an interesting mixture of opium, hashish and tobacco.

  'Friend Drake,' said Plovey, as they drew on the rich smoke, 'I was interested in your trial today. For you denied yourself to be Arabin lol Arabin.''So I did,' said Drake.

  'Yet, under interrogation,' said Plovey, 'you insisted often that you'd ruled in Runcorn.'

  'Ah,' said Drake, 'but there was a simple reason for that. I knew this Arabin lol Arabin to be a freak of nature, fit to eat any poison. So I made a pretence at being him, that I might get myself fed poison.'

  'So that was your game,' said Plovey. 'To escape from torture through suicide.'

  'Precisely,' said Drake, with a sidelong glance at Zanya, who smiled in love and anticipation.'So you've no stomach for poison,' said Plovey.

  'Why,' said Drake, 'no more than any other mortal man.'

  'Then that is strange,' said Plovey, 'for a most special portion of curry was served to you this evening.' 'How so?' said Drake.

  'Dear darling boy,' said Plovey, 'the portion served to you had arsenic in it, and cyanide, and strychnine, and an extract of belladonna and fine-chopped portions of a dozen other poisonous plants besides.'Drake stared at Plovey.

  'You joke,' said Drake, 'for if what you said is true, then I'd be dead.''No,' said Plovey. T spoke true enough.'

  And he clapped his hands, sharply, once. At that signal, guards entered to seize Drake. He fought. But it was useless: he was unarmed, and outnumbered eight to one. Zanya,-screaming with rage, started to batter the guards with a chair. Plovey grabbed her round the waist. She thumped him, knocked him insensible then threw him across the room.Upon which another four guards joined the fray.

  Many bruises later, both Drake and Zanya were dragged away, still struggling.Plovey zar Plovey was unconscious.

  Plovey's darling wife Darlinda seized her opportunity. She grabbed a pillow case, loaded it with all the gold, silver, jade and coinage she could lay her hands on, then quit the house. At dawn, she boarded a galley going downstream towards Androlmarphos: and she was never seen in Selzirk again.

  56

  The Swarms: diverse monstrous colony creatures dwelling in the terror-lands south of Drangsturm; are controlled by an entity known as the Skull of the Deep South; are prevented from invading the north of Argan by a watch maintained at Drangsturm by the Confederation of Wizards.

  The retrial of Drake Douay was curt. Gouda Muck could not give evidence against him, for Muck had fled Selzirk to escape a warrant which would have had him arrested as a public menace. However, Plovey of the Regency was there to testify against him.

  Drake was convicted of being a public menace, and was sentenced to life imprisonment in the House of Earthly Enlightenment, which stood next to the Zingrin warehouse in Jone.

  Zanya was put on trial for perjury, was convicted and was sentenced to slavery. Plovey of the Regency bought her as a concubine, then visited Drake especially for the pleasure of giving him the news.Drake wept.

  But weeping did him no good. So he tried curses, and prayers, and a couple of chants which he'd learnt which were supposed to be magic.

  All to no effect.

  Each day he woke in the same prison cell. It was an enormous stone-walled room which held ninety-seven men. Light (and wind, rain, moths, mosquitoes, flies,

  beetles and dust) came in through the myriad slit windows built into one wall. There were a dozen small holes in the centre of the floor for use as toilets. There were no chairs, no beds, no pallets.

  But at least Drake was left with the clothes on his back. And at least he had plenty of company.However . . .

  Very quickly he began to doubt the value of having company in such quantity. It meant, for a start, that there were bitter arguments over the daily dole of food and water.

  The water was brought from the Velvet River in casks which had once held fusel-oil. The food was a hunk of ironbread per man per day, plus a bowl each of a tepid, fuscous broth which occasionally contained some inscrutable fabaceous objects which, despite their shape, were certainly not beans. Sometimes this was supplemented by a bit of gristle or a bone with a few rat-pickings still adhering.

  For the first ten days, a larger man bullied Drake, stealing half of his food and a third of his water. After which Drake lost patience, and fought back. The gaolers removed the larger man's corpse without comment. Perhaps they failed to notice his broken neck, and thought he had simply succumbed to the river water as so many others did.After that, nobody picked on Drake.

  But there was no escaping from the constant arguments, from the banter of gamblers playing at sharps and knuckles, from the monotonous sing-song of very tame geniuses competing against each other in mental games of dragon chess, and from the whining complaints of old men with face-ache and arthritis. Some of the ancients, Drake found, had been stuck in this prison cell for as much as thirty years!He determined he would escape.Yes.And kill Plovey of the Regency, kill him slowly, with great care. And rescue Zanya. And escape with her to the Far South, to Drangsturm itself, and seek employment with wizards.

  First, Drake tried to bribe a gaoler with imaginary monies. Despite Drake's skill at deception, this ploy failed. Then he tried for liberty by offering his body to one particul
arly villainous-looking turnkey, a brute with a swollen, depraved face and a great big bloated kyte. But the man had got himself castrated years ago, when he was seeking a position as a eunuch in a palace at Voice, in the Rice Empire.

  So Drake feigned sickness, hoping to be sent to some place of recovery. But he was told he could die where he was as easily as any place elsewhere. So he feigned death – but when his body was thrown onto a bonfire in a prison courtyard, he came to life rather quickly. And was beaten thoroughly before being returned to his prison cell.Right.He would dig his way out. Where was the weakest point?

  The floor was of stone, the walls were of stone, but the ceiling was of wooden boards. Which sagged in one corner. That looked weak enough. So, one evening, Drake clambered up to the ceiling, using window slits for handholds and footholds. Once up there, he began to lever away one of the boards with a human thigh bone.

  As the board began to give, Drake heard an ominous humming sound. It reminded him of a Door. Good! He'd jump through a Door to anywhere, thank you, and no questions asked!

  He threw his strength against the thigh bone. And the board gave way. and fell with a crash. So did an incoherent mass of darkness, which promptly resolved itself into a swarm of bees.

  'Pox and bitches!' said Drake, from the floor to which he had fallen.

  Then said no more, for a bee stung his tongue.

  As the bees raged amongst the prisoners, they screamed for mercy. And, in their frenzy, tore away the door to their prison cell and mobbed outside. They were all rounded up at last in a high-walled courtyard, then cudgeled, then interrogated.

  And Drake was hauled in front of a judge, who pronounced him to be incorrigible.

  'You have proved,' said the judge, 'to be unworthy of the delights of the House of Earthly Enlightenment.'

  'Does this mean you're going to execute me?' said Drake.

  'No! You don't get off so lightly! Life with hard labour! Take him away!'