Tales From The Vulgar Unicorn

by Edited By Robert Asprin

  “Lick it, dog,” he ordered. “Lick it clean, and be thankful I don’t make you lick the floor as well!”

  Helpless and fighting for each breath, the pinned man hesitated only a moment before extending his tongue in a feeble effort to comply with the demand. Quickly impatient, Tempus wiped his hand in a bloody smear across Razkuli’s face and mouth, then he examined his wound again.

  As Zalbar watched, horrified, the seepage from the wound slowed from flow to trickle and finally to a slow ooze—all in the matter of seconds.

  Apparently satisfied with the healing process, Tempus turned dark eyes to his captain. “Every dog gets one bite—but the next time your pet crosses me, I’ll take him down and neither you nor the prince will be able to stop me.”

  With that he wrenched Razkuli from the wall and dashed him to the floor at Zalbar’s feet. With both Hell Hounds held motionless by his brutality, he strode from the room without a backward glance.

  The suddenness and intensity of the exchange had shocked even Zalbar’s battlefield reflexes into immobility, but with Tempus’s departure, control flooded back into his limbs as if he had been released from a spell. Kneeling beside his friend, he hoisted Razkuli into a sitting position to aid his laboured breathing.

  “Don’t try to talk,” he ordered, reaching to wipe the blood smear from Razkuli’s face, but the gasping man jerked his head back and forth, refusing both the order and the help.

  Gathering his legs under him, the short Hell Hound surged to his feet and retained the upright position, though he had to cling to the wall for support. For several moments, his head sagged weakly as he drew breath in long ragged gasps, then he lifted his gaze to meet Zalbar’s.

  “I must kill him. I cannot … live in the same world and … breathe the same air with one who … shamed me so … and still call myself a man.”

  For a moment, Razkuli swayed as if speaking had drained him of all energy, then he carefully lowered himself onto a bench, propping his back against the wall.

  “I must kill him,” he repeated, his voice steadying. “Even if it means fighting you.”

  “You won’t have to fight me, my friend.” Zalbar sat beside him. “Instead accept me as a partner. Tempus must be stopped, and I fear it will take both of us to do it. Even then we may not be enough.”

  The swarthy Hell Hound nodded in slow agreement. “Perhaps if we acquired one of those hellish weapons that have been causing so much trouble in the Maze?” he suggested.

  “I’d rather bed a viper. From the reports I’ve heard they cause more havoc for the wielder than for the victim. No, the plan I have in mind is of an entirely different nature.”

  ****

  THE BRIGHT FLOWERS danced gaily in the breeze as Zalbar finished his lunch. Razkuli was not guarding his back today: that individual was back at the barracks enjoying a much earned rest after their night’s labours. Though he shared his friend’s fatigue, Zalbar indulged himself with this last pleasure before retiring.

  “You sent for me, Hell Hound?”

  Zalbar didn’t need to turn his head to identify his visitor. He had been watching him from the corner of his eyes throughout his dusty approach.

  “Sit down, Jubal,” he instructed. “I thought you’d like to hear about my investigations.”

  “It’s about time,” the slaver grumbled, sinking to the ground. “It’s been a week—I was starting to doubt the seriousness of your pledge. Now, tell me why you couldn’t find the killer.”

  The Hell Hound ignored the sneer in Jubal’s voice. “Tempus is the killer, just as you said,” he answered casually.

  “You’ve confirmed it? When is he being brought to trial?”

  Before Zalbar could answer a terrible scream broke the calm afternoon. The Hell Hound remained unmoved, but Jubal spun towards the sound. “What was that?” he demanded.

  “That,” Zalbar explained, “is the noise a man makes when Kurd goes looking for knowledge.”

  “But I thought … I swear to you, this is not my doing!”

  “Don’t worry about it, Jubal.” The Hell Hound smiled and waited for the slaver to sit down again. “You were asking about Tempus’s trial?”

  “That’s right,” the black man agreed, though visibly shaken.

  “He’ll never come to trial.”

  “Because of that” Jubal pointed to the house. “I can stop…”

  “Will you be quiet and listen! The court will never see Tempus because the prince protects him. That’s why I hadn’t investigated him before your complaint!”

  “Royal protection!” The slaver spat. “So he’s free to hunt my people still.”

  “Not exactly.” Zalbar indulged in an extravagant yawn.

  “But you said…”

  “I said I’d deal with him, and in your words “it’s done”. Tempus won’t be reporting for duty today … or ever.”

  Jubal started to ask something, but another scream drowned out his words. Surging to his feet he glared at Kurd’s house. “I’m going to find out where that slave came from, and when I do…”

  “It came from me, and if you value your people you won’t insist on his release.”

  The slaver turned to gape at the seated Hell Hound.”You mean…”

  “Tempus,” Zalbar nodded. “Kurd told me of a drug he used to subdue his slaves, so I got some from Stulwig and put it in my comrade’s krrf. He almost woke up when we branded him … but Kurd was willing to accept my little peace offering with no questions asked. We even cut out his tongue as an extra measure of friendship.”

  Another scream came—a low animal moan which lingered in the air as the two men listened.

  “I couldn’t ask for a more fitting revenge,” Jubal said at last, extending his hand. “He’ll be a long time dying.”

  “If he dies at all,” Zalbar commented, accepting the handshake. “He heals very fast, you know.”

  With that the two men parted company, mindless of the shrieks that followed them.

  The Lighter Side Of Sanctuary

  THE READER RESPONSE to the first volume of Thieves’ World has been overwhelming and heartwarming. (For those of you who were not aware of it: you can write to me or any other author in care of their publisher.) The volume of correspondence helped to sell volumes two and three and prompted a Thieves’ World wargame soon to be released from the Chaosium. It seems that none of our Thieves’ World readers realize that anthologies in general don’t sell and that fantasy anthologies specifically are sudden death.

  While the letters received have been brimming with enthusiasm and praise, there has been one comment/criticism which has recurred in much of the correspondence. Specifically, people have noted that Sanctuary is incredibly grim. It seems that the citizens of the town never laugh, or when they do it is forcefully stifled … like the time Kitty-Cat spilled wine down the front of his tunic while trying to toast the health of his brother, the emperor.

  This is a valid gripe. First of all because no town is totally dismal. Second, because those readers familiar with my other works are accustomed to finding some humour buried in the pages—even in a genocidal war between lizards and bugs. What’s worse, in reviewing the stories in this second volume, I am painfully aware that the downward spiral of Sanctuary has continued rather than reversing itself.

  As such I have taken it upon myself as editor to provide the reader with a brief glimpse of the bright side of the town—the benefits and advantages of living in the worst hellhole in the Empire.

  To this end let us turn to a seldom seen, never quoted document issued by the Sanctuary Chamber of Commerce shortly before it went out of business. The fact that Kitty-Cat insisted the brochure contain some modicum of truth doubtless contributed to the document’s lack of success. Nonetheless, for your enjoyment and edification, here are selected excerpts from

  Sanctuary Vacation

  Capital Of The Rankan Empire

  EVERY YEAR TOURISTS flock to Sanctuary by the tens, drawn by the rumours of advent
ure and excitement which flourish in every dark corner of the Empire. They are never disappointed that they chose Sanctuary. Our city is everything it is rumoured to be—and more! Many visitors never leave and those that do can testily that the lives to which they return seem dull in comparison with the heartstopping action they found in this personable town.

  If you, as a merchant, are looking to expand or relocate your business consider scenic Sanctuary. Where else can you find all these features in one locale?

  Business Opportunities

  PROPERTY—LAND IN Sanctuary is cheap! Whether you want to build in the swamplands to the east of town, or west in the desert fringes, you’ll find large parcels of land available at temptingly low prices. If you seek a more central location for your business, just ask. Most shop owners in Sanctuary are willing to surrender their building, stock and staff for the price of a one-way passage out of town.

  Labour—There is no shortage of willing workers in Sanctuary. You’ll find most citizens are for hire and will do anything for a price. Moreover, the array of talents and skills available in our city is nothing short of startling. Abilities you never thought were marketable are bought and sold freely in Sanctuary—and the price is always right!

  For those who prefer slave labour, the selection available in Sanctuary is diverse and plentiful. You’ll be as surprised as the slaves themselves are by who shows up on the auction block. There, as everywhere in Sanctuary, bargains abound for one with a sharp eye … or sword.

  Materials—if the remoteness of the town’s location makes you hesitate—never fear. Anything of value in the Empire is sold in Sanctuary. In fact, commodities you may have been told were not for sale often appear in the stalls and shops of this amazing town. Don’t bother asking the seller how he got his stock. Just rest assured that in Sanctuary no one will ask how you came by yours, either.

  Lifestyles

  SOCIAL LIFE—AS the ancients say, one does not live by bread alone.

  Similarly, a citizen of the Rankan Empire requires an active social life to balance his business activity. Here is where Sanctuary truly excels. It has often been said that day to day life in Sanctuary is an adventure without parallel.

  Religions—For those with an eye for the after-life, the religious offerings in a given area must withstand close scrutiny. Well, our town welcomes such scrutinizers with open arms. Every Rankan deity and cult is represented in Sanctuary, as well as many not in open evidence elsewhere in the Empire. Old gods and forgotten rites exist and flourish alongside the more accepted traditions, adding to the town’s quaint charm. Nor are our temples reserved for devout true-believers only. Most shrines welcome visitors of other beliefs and many allow—nay, require—audience participation in their curious native rituals.

  Night Life—Unlike many cities in the Empire which roll up their streets with the setting sun, Sanctuary comes to life at night. In fact, many of its citizens exist for the night life to a point where you seldom see them by the light of day. However conservative or jaded your taste in entertainment might be, you’ll have the time of your life in the shadows of Sanctuary. Our Street of Red Lanterns alone offers a wide array of amusements, from the quiet elegance of the Ambrosia House to the more bizarre pleasures available at the House of Whips. If slumming is your pleasure, you need look no further than your own doorstep.

  Social Status—Let’s face it: everybody likes to feel superior to somebody. Well, nowhere is superiority as easy to come by as it is in Sanctuary. A Rankan citizen of moderate means is a wealthy man by Sanctuary standards, and will be treated as such by its inhabitants. Envious eyes will follow your passing and people will note your movements and customs with flattering attentiveness. Even if your funds are less than adequate in your own opinion, it is still easy to feel that you are better off than the average citizen of Sanctuary—if only on a moral scale. We can guarantee, without reservation, that however low your opinion of yourself might be, there will be somebody in Sanctuary you will be superior to.

  A Word About Crime—You have probably heard rumours of the high crime rate in Sanctuary. We admit to having had our problems in the past, but that’s behind us now. One need only look at the huge crowds that gather to watch the daily hangings and impalements to realize that the citizens of Sanctuary’s support for law and order is at an all-time high. As a result of the new Governor’s anti-crime programme, we are pleased to announce that last year the rate of reported crime, per day, in Sanctuary was not greater than that of cities twice our size.

  In Summary

  SANCTUARY IS A place of opportunity for a far-thinking opportunist. Now is the time to move. Now, while property values are plummeting and the economy and the people are depressed. Where better to invest your money, your energies and your life than in this rapidly growing city of the future? Even our worst critics acknowledge the potential of Sanctuary when they describe it as a “town with nowhere to go but up!”