by Wilf Jones
The Landlord looked these gentlemen and fine ladies up and down once more before finally shrugging his assent. ‘Well if you say so: it’s your money. There are five rooms up these stairs still free. Use them as you please and I’ll get you some baths and get a meal started for you. I expect you’re hungry.’
‘Hungry?’ shouted back Angren, already half way up the stairs either carelessly or deliberately dropping a trail of mud behind him, ‘I’m so bloody ravenous I could eat a battered donkey. On second thoughts, better make that two.’
The Landlord shook his head in disbelief before retreating into his kitchens. As he went he was muttering to himself something about mops and buckets.
There were ten of them to share five bedrooms. Angren was happy to room with the wizard and generously awarded Seama the single bed as opposed to the couch in exchange for the first bath.
Edro and Piedoro both offered themselves as roommates for any of the ladies but didn’t seem displeased to end up sharing with each other. Bibron and Garaid had become firm friends over recent days and they took a third room with no argument. There was a small problem then with the other two. Sigrid made it very clear that she wouldn’t care to share with Ruspa. ‘Berta said something like: ‘I don’t blame you’ and neither of them was prepared to let Isolde out of their sight. Ruspa couldn’t have been less interested. He stepped into the smallest of the rooms still on offer and closed the door behind him. The women considered what they had been left with.
‘How the hell are we going to sleep three in there?’ ‘Berta wanted to know. With its single inadequate bed, no couch and precious little floor space the others had to concede she had a point.
‘You don’t fancy snuggling up together then,’ said Sigrid with a sly wink.
‘What with you and Is? Well I might, but I reckon I’d be the one ending up on the floor when things warmed up.’
Isolde blushed at the suggestion.
‘Only joking,’ said Sigrid.
‘Perhaps I can help?’ De Vere was on the stairs behind them. ‘My apartment is really quite commodious. I’m sure the three of you would be happier there than here.’
Sigrid looked at him very suspiciously.
‘I would of course sleep here. Quite sufficient for my needs.’
‘You are kind, Mr. De Vere,’ ventured Isolde timidly.
‘Oh, please don’t mention it.’
‘Alright we won’t,’ snarled Sigrid, ‘But thanks all the same. I did think you were about to offer one of us a bunk for a dunk. Good to be wrong for a change.’
‘Berta laughed out loud and Isolde turned pink once more.
De Vere smiled.
The room De Vere had gifted them had a huge bed of feather and down and a fitted bath large enough to swallow even the mighty ‘Berta. The water arrived. Sigrid and ‘Berta raced to be first in. Stripping off their clothes as fast as weariness would allow they were surprised to see Isolde sit on the far side of the bed and turn her face.
‘We were only joking before,’ said Sigrid already naked. ‘No matter how pretty you are, I’d rather have a man in my bed. Or are you shy?’
‘Let her alone, Sig’. She’s not shy.’ ‘Berta, not known for her sympathetic nature, nodded at the quaking shoulders.
Sigrid raised eyebrows but said nothing. ‘Berta went over to the young woman and made to put an arm around her shoulders. Isolde jumped away startled and then burst into tears.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘So sorry. I didn’t mean… I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’m not normally like this. I know I could never be as strong like you—’
‘Not everyone needs muscles, little’un,’ ‘Berta said, not understanding at all.
‘No, no. I mean that you don’t ever cry, nor Sigrid. These horrible days don’t seem to have touched you, but I… I’ve… It’s all been… Oh Gods! Why am I so weak?’ She continued to sob.
Sigrid wasn’t over fond of soft women but the days on Tumboll had affected everyone. Aboard the Cottle Isolde hadn’t been particularly lively but she had joined in when invited. On the island she’d seemed a little changeable, coming up with ideas one minute, silent the next. But then what was there to say? Thinking back Sigrid remembered that Isolde had been brought to the compound some time after everyone else, her clothes had been bloodied but she was apparently uninjured. She hadn’t offered anything to explain. Sigrid frowned.
‘What happened to you on Tumboll?’ she asked.
Isolde turned white, and then pink, and hid her face and her tears.
‘Bastards must have raped her,’ ‘Berta growled with an angry look on her face that would have made most men mortally afraid.
‘No. Not quite that.’ Isolde mastered her tears, ‘But they… they touched me.’
‘You can take a little pawing, love,’ said Sigrid, ‘You must’ve… you’re not a virgin? Oh. So… Look some men will always do these things. Just remember, they haven’t actually hurt you, not physically, and that’s the main thing.’ Sigrid’s attempt to comfort trailed away as she realized she could think of nothing to say that was not either fatuous or insulting. ‘Berta took a more pragmatic line:
‘Come on, little ‘un, let’s get you bathed. You’ll be feeling dirty but dirty can always be made clean.’
‘It’s not that!’ Isolde cried, ‘Not that. Not what they did to me. It was those poor men!’
She went on to tell them of how two of the sailors had done their best to protect her but had been overcome. She was stripped by two of the Halfi but not raped. They seemed content to explore her body and when they became aroused they decided to use the sailors. They were showing her what they would like to do with her, what they would do later, when they were allowed. Both men were buggered many times and then, almost as an afterthought, they were tortured to death. Isolde was forced to watch everything.
‘Every time I close my eyes I see it all over again. It was my fault they suffered so much.’
‘Don’t be silly. All the sailors were killed. Not one had a clean death. You can’t blame yourself for what the Halfi did to them.’ Sigrid was furious. ‘Men can be unbelievably horrid, love,’ she told the girl, ‘and there’s no explaining it.’
Along the corridor the conversation was very different. De Vere had gone to speak with Seama and, by reason of proximity, with Angren as well.
‘I can see you’ve been having adventures while I have been sitting here cooling my heels. I can tell you, it was most uncomfortable.’
‘Uncomfortable!’ Angren exploded. Luckily he had left the bath and was towelling himself dry otherwise De Vere would have suffered a dousing. ‘Do you think we’ve been on a jolly or something? Fifty dead, Mr De Vere, that’s what we’re talking about. Sort of adventure you’re looking for is it? I can tell you, us few are bloody lucky to be alive and in one piece.’
De Vere wasn’t cowed by Angren’s reaction. ‘Now sir,’ he said, ‘there’s no need to get angry. Perhaps I did use an unfortunate word, but all I am trying to say is that my situation was made uncomfortable by reason of those who were spying upon me.’
‘Spying Terrance?’ Seama asked mildly. ‘And are we being watched even now? I hope not.’ He was still in the tub, disinclined to hurry before the water got cold.
‘As ever, my dear wizard,’ Terrance reassured him, ‘your timing was impeccable. I arrived here with the excuse that I had business with a bog-trotter I know.’
Angren was baffled. ‘A bog-trotter?’
‘Works on the marshes. This one’s a dealer in bog-oaks, name of Rojo. Now the— Bog-oaks? Just what they sound like: a very hard wood they find preserved in the peat. As I was saying, the problem was he didn’t turn up when he was supposed to. And that left me twiddling my thumbs and raising suspicions. I did a little trading by the by but nothing that could justify my being
here so long. Someone was bound to get curious. You know how it is these days: there are at least two spies for every interest in every little mud-hole in the world. The difficulty is in working out who they’re spying for.’
‘So what happened with these particular spies?’
‘Well, I was getting to that. Four days ago I noticed that a couple of odd-bods had come to town. And they were asking questions, wanting to know if there’d been any sign of people coming through lately – not from inland, you understand, but from Pars across the River. What people must have thought about that I don’t know. It was hard to make out whether they were very bold or just completely incompetent and rather stupid. But now I think they must have had news of Mador’s little expedition. Of course someone must have mentioned that I’d been hanging around as though waiting for something, and suddenly they were everywhere I went, one or the other or both. Perhaps they thought I had you hidden away somewhere and if they watched closely enough I’d lead them to you. Then after a few days of nothing happening I think they became confused and a little weary with the waiting. Eventually they decided to interrogate me. This was yesterday evening. I was at my meal when one of them, a great fat fellow, came to sit at my table, if you please. He asked me all sorts of stupid questions, in a so-called casual fashion, buffoon that he was, and I had to spend the whole meal fending him off. I tried my best—’
‘Which I am sure was excellent, Terrance,’ Seama said rising from the lukewarm depths, ‘Pass me that towel, would you?’
‘Well thank you,’ Terrance smiled, a touch ironically. Angren squirmed in distaste. The dandy ignored him and continued: ‘But I would have had a hard time of it if my bog-trotter hadn’t turned up. Honestly this fat man was becoming quite aggressive but he backed off pretty quick when Rojo plonked himself down and started haggling. In fact he left us to it. Either he found the conversation boring or he simply thought the better of it – Rojo being six foot five both ways may have had some bearing on the matter. To end my tale, my dear wizard, we are now safe. After he had left the inn I followed. He went to meet his partner in crime, an evil looking weaselly sort, rather like that fellow Ruspa though much more ill-favoured, just outside the public stables. They had a bit of a to-do. Quite an argument in fact that ended with the fat man boxing the weasel about the ears. I couldn’t get close enough to hear the substance of the quarrel but the outcome was that they both took horse, not theirs I’ve since discovered, and rode away like the clappers. I’d like to think I’ve thrown them off the scent and that they’ve lost interest in me but we cannot be sure.’
‘Huh!’ said Angren, ‘What if they’re just waiting on the road for us?’
Terrance smiled once more. ‘Oh I’m quite sure they’re not. You see it was still an hour or so before dark when they left and the land hereabouts, you may have noticed, is somewhat flat. I climbed the bell tower on the Town House and watched them all the way to Fourway Cross. They went south: not our route, I fancy.’
‘Could’ve just said yes,’ Angren muttered, put out that the dandy was obviously efficient.
‘Good!’ said the wizard, ‘Now, if the Landlord is ready, I could do with something to eat, and over dinner we can decide on where we go from here. You have lots of money I hope, Terrance?’
‘Well, I have enough, but that’s no excuse to be extravagant. How much will you need?’
‘Oh, a modest sum: we need horses, weapons, food, clothes—’
Terrance, paling at the thought of so great an expense, was spared for the time being by a knocking at the door. It was followed by the appearance of Ruspa’s sharp face.
‘A word, Seama, if you don’t mind.’
‘Come in Ruspa, but let’s make it quick: we’re all hungry.’
Ruspa was in and, not a person to bandy words, he told Seama what it was he wanted:
‘I need money. I have to buy a horse and provisions, and I’ll need more as well to get me to… to get me to my destination. And a sword would be useful.’
‘We were about to discuss this over dinner, Ruspa. We are all in the same predicament.’
‘Can’t wait. I need it now. I’ve no time for dinner parties. I have to be away before dawn so I’ll need to buy a horse immediately.’
‘Your mission seems urgent?’
‘As every mission, no doubt, but I have further to travel than most, I think.’
‘Well Ruspa, I won’t ask for an explanation. Mador has his own plans. Terrance, how can we help our friend?’
Terrance’s brow wrinkled. ‘It will be difficult to find a horse today. Tomorrow is market day and I was hoping to save some money by buying a dozen nags together. Now, let me see; the Landlord has a horse he might let go. I’ll see what can be done. I trust Mador will be considerate in my recompense Seama? We are likely to use all I have with me and you’ll need more.’
‘I agree. Is Mr. De Vere’s offer good enough Ruspa?’
‘I’ll need to see the horse.’
‘Why don’t you both go now. We’ll meet again downstairs.’
With a look of resignation on De Vere’s face and an eager light in Ruspa’s eyes they went.
Their meal was, surprisingly, splendid: the presentation immaculate, the food varied and elaborate; Angren was pleased with the quality of the beer and the wine was ‘remarkably good considering’, according to De Vere. A pity then that most of them were so ravenous they wolfed the whole lot down in minutes. Savouring the delicacies was not on their menu. Only Isolde and De Vere achieved anything like gentility in their table manners. Seama had asked for the meal to be served in a private room so they could talk freely but the food was more important and conversation brief.
Decisions were made over dessert. Seama of course would continue his journey into the West and Angren with him. Sigrid and ‘Berta had been heading for Eastern Aegarde on a simple mission to gather information on allegiances in Kelle, Eszola and Ciudad Valdez. They readily agreed that travelling in numbers through Gothery would be no bad thing and decided to travel with Seama’s company at least as far as the border. Bibron was in a misery over the murder of his crew on Tumboll. He felt that he’d let them down. The thought of returning to Riverport and being asked to take another ship horrified him. He needed a break from the sea. The wine helped him explain his position, several times over, and he ended by asking whether he could make the company five. To the Captain’s amazement and great pleasure the sailors, Edro and Piedoro, declared that if, as honourable men, they could never mutiny at sea they could never betray their Captain as he struggled with the land. They too intended to follow Seama’s cause, whatever that might be. Angren grinned a wry grin and wondered whether their decision might not have been a little influenced by the prospect of keeping in with Sigrid.
Isolde nobly decided to continue her mission alone.
‘I must go to Astoril,’ she told them determinedly. Her shaky voice ruined the effect. The court of King Sirl II at Astoril was no dangerous place under normal circumstances but it was clear to everyone that Isolde was not up to the task. She seemed incapable of putting aside the trauma of Tumboll – how would she cope alone in a foreign court? Her given task required a degree of calm Isolde could not muster.
‘I had thought,’ said Seama, ‘that we could ask you to undertake a more important mission.’
‘But the King needs me to—’
‘Mador will understand that your plans must change.’
‘But what would you have me do instead?’
‘We have suffered a major setback and the King knows nothing about it. Could you be our messenger to the King? He must be told about Tumboll. We can’t have Riverport or Coldharbour taken by surprise.’
‘Do you really think Mador would prefer—’
‘Yes of course he would,’ cried De Vere, ‘And I can put you in the company of a friend of mi
ne who’ll see you safe into Pars. You shall ride out with me tomorrow.’
And that was that: Isolde did not need asking twice. Angren found himself wondering whether Isolde might be sharper than she pretended to be but he concluded she was best out of it. He for one wasn’t going to spend his time nurse-maiding, no matter how pretty the baby.
‘Thank you,’ she said, her complexion flushing easily to that delicate shade of pink once more. ‘Thank you all.’
Ruspa took this exchange as his cue to leave.
‘Mador needs news urgently, and not just about Tumboll. I wish you all luck and speed; it’s time I started.’
They all wished him luck in return and he left them to it. Though each of them would have found it hard to say why, not one of them was sorry to see him go.
‘And what about you, Garaid?’ Seama asked then, ‘What is your mission?’
The big man grinned. ‘I’ll tell you, but you won’t like it.’
‘Oh?’
‘At the start I was to help Anparas in Gothery setting up communications, but when the new orders came I was given another job.’
‘Which was?’
‘Mador said: “Stay with the wizard: I want to know what he’s up to.’’’
Angren and a few of the others burst out laughing but Seama wasn’t well pleased.
‘Did he now? Did he really!’ he said, ‘And I thought Mador trusted me.’
DOCTORING PHILOSOPHY
Astoril 3057.7.27
Dr. Bliss smiled benignly at the servant carrying the tray of boiled ham and soft bread rolls into the antechamber.
‘Very thoughtful of you,’ he said.
The servant raised an eyebrow. ‘It is the King’s supper.’
The smile left the doctor’s face. ‘The King wishes to sleep now. He will need no supper. The draught I prepared will do him more good than cold meat and breadcakes. As I have already explained. When he wakes you may serve him soup – a vegetable broth, no meat, and make sure it isn’t too hot.’
