The Mocklore Omnibus (Mocklore Chronicles #1 & #2)

by Tansy Rayner Roberts

  “Reed Cooper,” said Kassa grimly. “Remind me to kick his head in next time we meet.”

  “Won’t need reminding,” said Braided Bones. “Now we talk about sword.”

  There was a muffled thump from somewhere. “Expecting company?” Kassa asked their host.

  “It could be the Lord Mayor come for afternoon tea,” said Daggar. “But we don’t have a Lord Mayor. Or a teapot, come to that. Shall I answer it, then?”

  “It’s your door.”

  Daggar slouched towards the door.

  “Not door,” said Braided Bones. “Corpse.”

  Daggar peered down at the body of Aragon Silversword. A leg twitched, involuntarily thumping against the wall. “I think he’s still dead,” he reported.

  A hand lashed out, grabbing Daggar’s throat and holding fast. Aragon Silversword’s eyes opened as he tightened his grip. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Where am I? Who hit me? Please answer with speed and precision, I am not a patient man.”

  “Kak!” replied Daggar.

  Aragon released him, and Daggar scrabbled back out of range. Aragon seemed to have no intention of moving off the floor. He looked intently at Daggar for a moment, and then his gaze flicked towards Kassa. “You threw something.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said warily.

  “Don’t be,” he said calmly. “Most people throw something at me sooner or later.” He rose to his feet, his eyes holding hers. “Now we can be friends.”

  Kassa felt a little off-balance. “Perhaps we should introduce ourselves,” she said uncertainly.

  “Of course.” He crossed the room towards her with rapid steps and took her hand in his. “You are Kassa Daggersharp,” he informed her as he kissed her hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “How do you know who I am?” she said in surprise.

  Aragon gestured briefly to her companions. “A pirate, a profit-scoundrel.” His eyes returned to her. “And blood-red hair. It was a lucky guess. You were a very memorable character, Mistress Daggersharp, when I was Champion of the Empire. Bigbeard’s exceptional daughter.” His tone grew disappointed. “I hear you are no longer a pirate.”

  “That may change,” said Kassa. “Imminently.”

  “Then you will be looking for supporters,” he said immediately. “A crew. You’re wondering whether to trust me.”

  “How can you be so sure that you know what I’m thinking?”

  A smile flickered across his face. “You’re so obvious.”

  “The sword, Kassa,” said Braided Bones urgently.

  “What sword?” snapped Kassa, annoyed at the interruption. “Oh, that…why is it so important?” Another thought crossed her mind. “Braids, do you know where the silver is?”

  “Sword knows,” Braided Bones said insistently. “Splashdance location written on sword!”

  Kassa was alarmed. “But I don’t have the sword! It could be anywhere.”

  Daggar peered out of the grimy window. “S’dawn,” he noted.

  “I know,” said Kassa in a different voice.

  Daggar turned, to see that Braided Bones had vanished, and in his place was the small stone gargoyle. It was grimacing in a particularly repulsive way.

  “An interesting phenomenon,” commented Aragon Silversword.

  Kassa looked very forlorn. “What do we do now?” she asked no one in particular.

  * * *

  It was a glistening sort of morning. Small birds were making fluttery attempts at warbling, but most of them gave up and went home to nurse head-colds. There had been no more snow, which left everything cold and wet and damp. Mocklore weather being what it was, the sun had come out and was trying to pretend that it was summer.

  Three Imperial Ladies in Waiting lay on the hill behind the palace, bleaching their hair with the morning sun. It was the blondest of the three who first saw the man coming through the trees. She gestured to the others and they quickly sat up, artfully arranging their clothes to look fashionably disarrayed.

  As the stranger came closer, they saw that he was terribly handsome in a brash, swaggering sort of way. He wore ripped velvet, and a black eyepatch which made him look awfully dramatic. He stopped a few feet from them. “Where would I find the Lady Emperor?”

  “She won’t see you,” said the least blonde of the three.

  The middling blonde giggled behind a hand. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, openly admiring the muscles rippling through the torn shirt. “Maybe she will. If you ask nicely.”

  “What’s your name, handsome?” the blondest asked boldly.

  “Cooper,” said the man.

  “A barrel-maker,” she squealed in disappointment, and the three dissolved into hysterical giggles.

  Reed Cooper touched his forelock. “Good day, ladies.” He sloped towards the Palace.

  The blondes watched him go. “You know,” said one after a moment, “I don’t think he was a barrel-maker.”

  Another shifted slightly, spreading her hair out for the sun again. “How do you know?”

  “I just don’t think a barrel-maker would carry such a big shiny sword on his back.”

  * * *

  Aragon Silversword had vanished into Daggar’s grimy bathroom to clean the blood and garbage off his face. His absence automatically made him the topic under discussion. “He’s a traitor,” insisted Daggar.

  “Not lately,” Kassa argued.

  “He’s been in a dungeon! There aren’t that many opportunities for betrayal when yer only companions are rats, you know.”

  “You should know,” she retorted. “Don’t you believe people can change?”

  A sly grin came over Daggar’s face. “You fancy him, don’t yer?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” snapped Kassa, a slight flush betraying her cheeks. “I need all the help I can get if I’m going to find the silver. We both know you’re useless, and Braided Bones is going to be a book-end for another month. Whom else do I have?”

  “You could find someone more reliable,” Daggar grumbled.

  “I don’t think so,” she replied. “As long as we are useful to him, we can trust him.”

  Daggar looked at her as if she was crazy. “That’s a clever piece of logic, then. Sounds like yer trying to convince yerself.”

  “Can I say something?” Aragon interrupted. He was standing in the inner doorway.

  Kassa stared at him for a moment, wondering how much he had heard.

  Aragon smiled thinly, giving nothing away. “I don’t have a good track record for loyalty. And I do not imagine you would take kindly to being betrayed.”

  Kassa was mildly shaken by his abilty to predict what she was thinking. “So what surety can you offer me?’ she said finally.

  “I’ve played the traitor before, Mistress Daggersharp,” he said coolly. “I didn’t like the results.”

  “I’ll give you a chance,” Kassa said after a moment. She wasn’t quite sure why. “But if you let me down, I’ll kill you myself.”

  “I would expect nothing less,” said Aragon Silversword.

  * * *

  The Lady Emperor did not even bother to open her eyes. “Do I know you?” she inquired disinterestedly.

  “Reed Cooper, your Imperial Majesty,” said the pirate with a measured bow. “We met at a garden party shortly before the Emperor Timregis was…disposed of. He was particularly insane that summer and had decided to give knighthoods to all the pirate kings. He changed his mind, of course, but they were invited to the garden party anyway. I came with Bigbeard’s crew.”

  Talle’s eyes opened slightly, although she was still pretending disinterest. “Oh,” she murmured. “The cabin boy.”

  “You attempted to seduce me,” Reed Cooper added.

  Lady Talle’s eyebrow lifted perfectly. “Attempted?”

  “You were making your plans even then,” he continued. “You were aware of the one thing a successful Emperor needs. Money, and lots of it. I happened to mention that Bigbeard had the Spla
shdance silver stashed away somewhere, and that the location was written on his prime sword.” He smiled, showing perfect teeth. “You suggested to me that if you should ever rise to the exalted rank of Emperor, hypothetically of course, I should contrive to bring you the sword of Vicious Bigbeard Daggersharp. I believe you suggested that it would be worth my while to surrender such a prize.”

  Talle’s eyes were fully open now. She batted her eyelashes slowly, suspiciously. “Bigbeard’s ship was sunk months ago. I wasn’t Emperor then.”

  Reed Cooper shared his killer grin with her. “I got tired of waiting. You would manage it eventually, I had no doubt of that, and when you did…I would have the sword ready and waiting for you. As it turned out, I didn’t have long to wait.”

  The Lady Emperor sat up with a silvery rustle of silk. “You brought the sword? Where is it?”

  Reed Cooper pulled the sword from the scabbard on his back, and handed it to her.

  Talle’s slender fingers slid lovingly over the eight rubies which sparkled on the hilt. “The key to the Splashdance silver,” she murmured. “Once I have that wealth, I can get the Lordlings on my side. My Empire will be secured.” Her probing fingertips found the catch beneath the seventh ruby, and something clicked. A small panel revolved slowly, revealing the hidden inscription in the hilt.

  Talle’s face changed. With icy blue eyes, she glared at Reed Cooper. “Is this some kind of joke? I warn you, I lost my sense of humour when I became Emperor. I can’t afford it any more!”

  “My Lady?” said Reed, confused.

  She thrust the sword at him and pushed away, leaping blindly to her feet. The inscription was gibberish. Reed turned it over, trying to make sense of it. Even the alphabet was alien. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I can’t read it.”

  “Nobody could read it, you fool!” exclaimed Lady Talle ferociously. Her tone dropped to a dangerously calm level. “I think I’ll have you boiled. And sliced.”

  “My Lady Emperor,” he protested. “Kassa Daggersharp must be able to decipher it. The sword was meant for her. Bigbeard himself delivered it into my hands to give to Kassa, before he knew of my treachery.”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea,” said Lady Talle sarcastically. “Give the sword to Kassa Daggersharp!”

  “Well, what else can we do?” Reed demanded.

  She smiled dangerously. “We? Aren’t you getting a little above yourself, Cooper?”

  “I betrayed Bigbeard and destroyed his ship,” retorted Reed. “By pirate law, that makes his booty mine. The Splashdance silver belongs to me by right of the sea.”

  “Rights?” said Lady Talle disbelievingly. “You are my subject, Cooper. You have no rights. You will serve me for as long as you live, and if you please me I shall reward you.”

  “Anything you say, my Lady Emperor,” replied Reed Cooper obediently, but a little too smoothly. “I am sure that we can…accommodate each other.”

  “Besides,” said Talle as she settled herself back on to her comfortable chaise longue. “I already have an agent working on Kassa Daggersharp. Soon we should have all her secrets and her silver.”

  4. Get me the Gargoyle

  An extra-private of the Hidden Army of Mercenaries scuttled towards the latest headquarters, or at least towards where he thought they might be. He couldn’t find them.

  After half an hour of watching the hapless extra-private pitifully examine fern fronds for secret panels, the sentry on duty opened the trapdoor in the grass and let him in. “Thanks,” said the little soldier with great relief.

  “No problem, soldier,” said the sentry kindly. “Just send the usual blackmail fee to my quarters, and we’ll say no more about it. Especially to those in command, wot?”

  “What?” said the soldier, confused. “Message for deputy leader’s assistant’s assistant. Special message.”

  “Rainwiper?” said the sentry. “He’s dead.”

  “Footcrusher,” said the extra-private.

  “Oh, her. She’s not deputy leader’s assistant’s assistant no more, she was moved up to deputy leader’s assistant the moon before last.”

  “Wasn’t Chingritted Fingernails…”

  “Yeah he was, but you know how fast promotions fly about when plague hits the camp.” Suddenly the sentry frowned and peered at his clipboard again. “Hang on, I’m wrong. Telefonopolis died last week didn’t he?”

  “Did he?”

  “That means Footcrusher is a deputy leader now. I should make a note of that somewhere…”

  “Deputy leader Footcrusher, then. Of K Division. Special message. For her.”

  “Right,” said the sentry, making a note on his clipboard. “In that case, you can bugger off.”

  “What?”

  “Says here. She’s besieging the Midden Plains. She’s not here.”

  The little soldier took a deep breath. “Now, look…”

  * * *

  Kassa ran her finger over the newly-inked map. “Are you certain this is the exact layout of the palace?”

  “Almost nothing is certain,” said Aragon Silversword.

  Daggar was looking worried. “One minute you’re talking about treasure hunting, and the next you’re planning to break into the palace,” he said anxiously. “The palace. You know, the most heavily-guarded building anywhere.”

  “Look,” said Kassa patiently. “Reed Cooper got the Red Admirals involved in this. That suggests an Emperor was involved. As there have been at least four in the last six months, we can’t say for sure which Emperor it was, but the chances are likely that Bigbeard’s sword is in the palace somewhere.”

  Daggar was pacing. “And why is he so keen to get back into the palace all of a sudden?” he demanded, waving a finger at Aragon. “I thought he just escaped from the Imperial dungeon.”

  “Oh, shut up, Daggar,” snapped Kassa, losing patience with him. “Aragon is risking a lot to help us. You could try and be a little less hostile.”

  “I am risking nothing to help you,” Aragon contradicted her calmly. “Your hairy friend here is right. It would be pointless for me to enter the palace less than twelve hours after escaping. I shall co-ordinate from a distance.”

  “Oh.” Kassa looked crestfallen. This wasn’t quite how she had imagined things. She glanced hopefully at Daggar. “I don’t suppose…”

  “Oh, yes,” he said sarcastically. “I could dress up as a washerwoman and smuggle you in under a pile of old socks. No thank you.”

  “I thought you wanted my silver,” she flared at him.

  “Even a profit-scoundrel doesn’t commit suicide in the name of money,” he retorted.

  Kassa’s face went very pale for a moment, and she sat down in a hurry. “So what’s the plan?” she asked between clenched teeth.

  Aragon almost smiled. “It’s simple enough…”

  * * *

  Later, Daggar found Kassa sitting on an upturned water barrel outside his hovel. It was snowing, but she didn’t seem to have noticed. “Quarter-penny for yer thoughts,” he offered half-heartedly.

  She glanced in his direction. “I thought a penny was the usual price.”

  “Buy cheap and sell high. That’s the motto of the Profithood. One of them, anyway.” Daggar looked more closely at Kassa, and grinned suddenly. “So what do you think of the plan, then?”

  “I suppose there is a reason why this water barrel has a window in it,” said Kassa quickly.

  “There’s a family of urchins living in it. Unless yer want to borrow a cup of sugar or you need something stolen in a hurry, it’s best to leave ’em alone. I did notice you changin’ the subject, by the way.”

  “The curtains are rather sweet,” continued Kassa. “And the window box is rather a good idea. They could grow kitchen herbs in it, or tulips in spring…”

  “It’s a winner of a plan, isn’t it?” Daggar pressed. “I ’specially like the way that it involves maximum risk for you, medium risk for me and no risk at all for His Nibs in there.”


  “It’s a good plan,” said Kassa staunchly, wanting to believe it. “A sound plan.”

  “Cobblers.”

  Kassa sighed, pushing herself to her feet. “You’re right. It’s a rotten plan.”

  Daggar looked relieved. “So yer starting to doubt the golden boy at last. Thank the imps for that!”

  Kassa paced back and forth. “I want to trust him. I really do. When I was at school, he was held up as…well, a symbol of all that was chivalrous and decent. And after he killed the Emperor, he seemed even more dashing and romantic.”

  “Some school,” commented Daggar, shuddering.

  “After all, the Emperor was mad,” Kassa went on. “And there’s something very appealing about an anti-hero. I just wish…well, I wish he was a little more…”

  “Heroic?” supplied Daggar. “Ruggedly handsome? Polite?”

  “Tolerable,” she conceded with a sigh. “I suppose three years in a dungeon could change anyone, but I can’t shake the feeling that he was always this much of a cold-blooded bastard.”

  Daggar liked the sound of this. The sooner Aragon Silversword was out of their lives, the better. “Look at it this way, Chief—if we find the silver, yer know I won’t steal more than my fair share ’cos I’m family and I’m terrified of you. Can you say that about yer precious Aragon Silversword?”

  “You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  “Don’t get used to it, it won’t happen again. And don’t call me Chief.”

  Daggar folded his arms, and tried to look decisive. “Well?”

  “Right,” said Kassa, and marched back into the hovel. But the speech she was planning just melted away when Aragon Silversword looked up at her with his clear grey eyes.

  “You had something to say?” he inquired.

  “Yes,” she said awkwardly.

  “You have a dilemma,” Aragon observed. “You have begun to doubt my motives. Quite frankly, I’m surprised it took you this long. However, I am useful to you. You need a crew, and I am the only competent volunteer you have. I also know too many of your secrets, which you were foolish enough to share with me.” He almost smiled. “It was very, very stupid to tell me about the silver before you knew if you could trust me or not. Now you have no choice.”