The Walrus and the Warwolf coaaod-4

by Hugh Cook

He thought the Walrus spoke his anger by way of a joke. And, in any case – an angry Walrus without Ish Ulpin and others to back him up was no danger at all to Drake Douay if it came to a matter of swords.

  'I'd rather kill beer than a comrade,' said Jon Arabin, mildly.

  Drake, seeing both Walrus and Warwolf had finished their ales, summoned up more from the bar. For a while, all ate and drank in silence. Then Mulps spoke again:

  'So what did happen to the Ebrell bitch? It's the one in

  Penvash I'm talking of. What came of her?'

  'Why, as I say, I don't know,' said Drake, 'for a monster attacked me. Likely the monster or whatever it was got eating her. She died somehow, anyway.'

  'Then why,' said the Walrus, 'why does rumour say you came to Runcorn with her? With her and a fortune in jasp and jade, which let you buy up half the city before you were finished?'

  'Man,' said Drake, spreading his hands, 'what I own is these hands. That's honest.'

  'But you had wealth once,' persisted the Walrus. 'It didn't just vanish, did it?'

  T were never rich,' said Drake. 'As for buried treasure or such, if that's what you're looking for – you'll get none from me. Would I mix with the scum in a dive like this if I had the wealth to live better?'

  'Aye, you would,' said Mulps, 'for it's your style, and you know no better. But I-'

  'Leave it, man,' said Jon Arabin. 'He's telling the truth. He has no treasure.'

  'And even if I did,' said Drake, 'I'd want human beings to share it with – not a gangling thing with grass on its chin and thumbs built double on its fists.'Mulps rose to his feet in anger.

  'Down, man!' said Arabin. 'Are we not friends together?'

  'We are,' said the Walrus, looking hard at Drake, and wishing he had the strength to tear the snake-tongued fellow apart. 'We're friends, aye, I'll not forget it, or the gift of ale and kale either.'

  Then Mulps sat, and gave every appearance of peace as talk turned to other subjects. But the insults rankled. That night, when Mulps slept, he had nightmares about his childhood, when he had been teased, bullied and rejected because he was so tall and thin, his nose so sharp, his thumbs double and his hair green.

  Mulps woke writhing and sweating. Drake! Drake Douay! He was responsible for this!'A curse,' muttered Mulps. 'He cursed me. Aye.''What?' said his whore.'Nothing,' said Mulps. 'Go back to sleep.'

  Mulps slept but the whore didn't, and when Mulps woke in the morning she was gone – with the last of his money with her. He blamed Drake for that, too. And, later in the day, sought out Elkor Alish, and bore false witness against Drake. Warrants were sworn out on the spot, and guards sent to arrest Drake.

  Who was hauled into the presence of Elkor Alish that afternoon, vigorously threatening his guards with dragon-magic, demonic possession and a wide range of curses. All of which, of course, confirmed Mulps's belief that Drake had somehow put a curse upon him.

  'So, here you are,' said Elkor Alish, sighting Drake. 'Just the man I need.'

  'For what?' said Drake. 'What am I charged with? Show me a bill of particulars.'

  'No need for that,' said Alish. 'All charges are dismissed. I've got serious work for you to do.''Aye. Work to get me killed, no doubt.''It may well,' said Alish.'Then I'll have no part in it,' said Drake.

  'Oh, I'll make it worth your while. There's wealth and women as the pay for prompt performance.'

  'I've got a woman already. I fought shipboard for the favour of Ju-jai. Once at the Teeth I'll claim her. A famous pretty whore, they say, with hair as red as my last.'

  'Part of your pay,' said Alish, smoothly, 'will be the right to return to the Greater Teeth.''Like that, is it?' said Drake.

  'Indeed like that. Be strong. All I want you to do is carry two letters. One is to Morgan Hearst. The other is to Watashi.'' Carry letters? Why me? Why not send an ambassador?'

  'You will be precisely that. An ambassador. Remember when I visited you when you were in preventive detention in 'Marphos?''Aye,' said Drake, cautiously.

  'You boasted large at the time,' said Alish. 'You said you'd been ambassador for King Tor on five different occasions.'

  'Yes, but,' said Drake, 'I've enemies in Stokos. Gouda Muck, for one. I can't be your ambassador if I'm caught up in feuds with enemies, can I?'

  'You'll deal in no feuds,' said Alish, 'for you'll visit the city in secret. That's why I must send you.''Me!'

  'Right,' said Alish. 'You know the city. Better still, Watashi knows you. Who else have I got who's been face to face with Farfalla's son?''But-'

  'You'll find a way to him,' said Alish. 'In secret. To guarantee your success . . . I'm holding your Walrus and Warwolf hostage against your safe return with proofs of performance.'Drake groaned.

  The Walrus, weakened by a fever which had been gaining a hold on his carcass since midnight, fainted.

  That night, Drake dreamed of dragons, torturers and Plovey of the Regency. Yet, the very next day, he began to make preparations for setting out for Selzirk – for he had no choice in the matter.

  Elkor Alish said he would choose companions for Drake, but gave him permission to look for additional companions for the venture. Drake looked, but found nobody suitable.

  There was just one person Drake seriously considered taking, and that was Forester, who lacked verve, courage, style and nous. Drake judged Forester to be a regular sucker-fool, who could be conned into doing the really dangerous work, such as making the approach to Watashi. However, despite the encouraging lies Drake told, Forester refused to join the adventure.

  'Ambassadors don't come so short in the tooth,' said Forester to Drake.

  Upon which Drake, offended, abandoned his efforts to recruit the man. He would rely on the companions Elkor Alish had chosen for him. Or so he thought at first. But when he saw those people, he despaired. They were coarse, brutal, stupid types. They spoke poor Galish and zero Churl. He complained to Alish:'Man, these people are good for nothing but knifework.'

  'That's what they've been chosen for,' said Alish. 'While you attack Selzirk with the word, they bring the sword.''I'm ambassador and they're assassins?' 'Right.'

  'Then let's split our missions,' said Drake. 'You send them separate to the city. As for me – I've a plan.''Tell,'said Alish.

  He heard Drake out, and agreed to Drake's plan. Shortly, Drake was imprisoned with half a dozen enemy cavalry officers who had been captured when Alish and his allies.first took Androlmarphos. Like many of the more important hostages, they had been shipped to Runcorn early on for safe keeping.

  'Who might you be?' asked these prisoners, when Drake was flung into their midst, bleeding heavily from the nose.

  'Why, I be Drake Douay,' said Drake. 'A man of Stokos, aye, and adopted son of Plovey of the Regency, in Selzirk.''How long ago adopted?' he was asked.

  'Why, but this time last year, when I saved him from drowning in the Velvet River. Hence I'm but making a start with my Churl. Since your Galish runs so fair, doubtless you can help me with work on my Churl, for I long to talk my father's tongue proper.'

  Drake's lie was so close to the truth that it was near to being unbreakable. Not that the officers tried to break it, for they had no cause to be suspicious.'What in Churl do you want to learn?' they said.

  'The language of sex and seduction, to staxt with,' said Drake, promptly – thinking that the fewer lies he told, the simpler life would be.So they started into lessons immediately.

  On the third night of Drake's captivity, the gaolers got drunk. The prisoners seized their opportunity and overpowered the drunks. Two of the gaolers got killed in the process. This was not part of the plan, but Drake had no sympathy for them – he was developing very strong views about gaols and gaolers.

  The escapers quit Runcorn, and found, outside the city, horses (complete with saddles) which were only lightly guarded. The guards did not stand and fight, but ran away. So the escapers commandeered the horses and rode hell for leather for the south.

  Did they suspect that t
he whole thing had been engineered by Drake Douay and Elkor Alish?No, not for a moment.

  For the officers, like most children of the Harvest Plains, had been raised on a brand of fairy tales in which heroes of all descriptions regularly escaped from the most daunting dungeons imaginable, not just once or twice but as many as half a dozen times in the same story.

  So they thought themselves fine fellows as they galloped along, urging their horses closer and closer to the edge of death; they laughed, joked and bragged, persuading themselves their outbreak had been a regular feat of heroism.Only Drake knew better.

  At daybreak, one of the horses collapsed and died. The rest were nearly ready for the knacker's yard. However, at noon, the escapers met a patrol of Harvest Plains cavalry, and were able to commandeer fresh horses. Several changes later, they entered Selzirk.

  'Now,' said Drake, to the most senior officer who had ridden with him, 'get me an audience with Morgan Hearst. Immediately.''What business have you with him?'

  'That which cannot be delayed. Man, get me to see him. I've no money to bribe my way through to his face. Once I'm with him, he'll be the judge of my business. He's hero enough to know if I'm wasting his time.'

  The officer, too exhausted for argument, handed Drake over to the appropriate people, telling them Drake must see Hearst instantly.

  51

  Morgan Hearst: a hero questing in company of the wizard Miphon and the woodsman Blackwood; interrupted heroic quest to command the defence of Selzirk; defeated Elkor Alish and liberated Androlmarphos; sojourns in Selzirk, though has plans for onward travel.

  Drake was taken into the heights of a tall and massive tower which stood in what had once been the central courtyard of an ancient wizard stronghold. He was shown into a waiting room from which he could look down on the myrmecoid activity in the streets of Selzirk. But he had no eyes for the view.

  He was dismayed at the impossible queue, which included an inventor after a patron for his perpetual motion machine; a man with a gyrfalcon to sell to the hero; a designer who hoped to interest Morgan Hearst in a gaudy coat of arms (it featured, among other things, a sea-dragon naiant, a gryphon rampant, and seventeen other creatures besides). And many others.

  'Sit here,' said the functionary who had brought Drake to the place, 'and wait your turn.'

  But Drake would have none of that. He strode to the head of the queue and demanded admittance.'Who are you?' asked the guard at the door.

  'I am Baron Farouk's nuncio,' said Drake, in a right stomachy manner. 'I come to speak with the hero.!'About what?' said the guard.'Of ships and armies, allegiance and alliance, matters of

  high state and the breaking of empires. Stand aside, or I split you with my sword.'

  'The weaponless should make no threats so empty,' said the guard.

  'The weapon is invisible, yet kills regardless,' said Drake. 'For my father was a jinnee and my mother the worst kind of succubus. I was born in a flood of fire, born amidst thunder, suckled on blood, weaned on a whore's-egg then grown to greatness on the flesh of butchered babies. Will you stand aside, or must I doom you to death? Aye – to hell and damnation?'

  'I meant no harm, my lord,' said the guard, standing aside hastily.

  In days when the city was full of wild stories of weird magic, and when thousands had seen for their own eyes the powers of the death-stone, all acknowledged the existence of occult things, and Drake's bluff was more to be believed than it would have been in more sober times. Thus he gained prompt entry to the room where Morgan Hearst did business.

  Hearst was seated behind a broad desk made of split bamboo. The hero was, as Drake remembered him, a tense, hard-faced man. Lean, clean-shaven, hair cropped short, eyes grey.One thing had changed.Hearst's right wrist terminated in a steel hook.'Do you speak Galish?' said Hearst, studying Drake.'Very nicely,' said Drake.'Do I. . . do I know you from somewhere?'

  'No, my lord,' said Drake, unwilling to remind Hearst of how he had once run the young Lord Dreldragon out of Estar on account of crimes of theft and hooliganism.

  'That's strange,' said Hearst, a puzzled look on his face. T could almost swear I'd met you before.'

  Hearst's left hand held a quill pen; papers were heaped up on the desk. The absence of any clerks implied that Hearst was literate.

  T see from your desk that you read and write,' said

  Drake. 'Not a hero only, but a wise man as well.'

  'If that's meant by way of flattery,' said Hearst, 'don't waste your breath. I've scant powers in Selzirk, whatever my reputation might say. Most of the petitioners outside my doors are wasting their time. Most probably whatever you wish to ask for is not within my grant.'

  'What I ask, my lord,' said Drake, 'is for you to accept a letter from a man named Elkor Alish.''Alish?' said Hearst. 'Who's he?'

  'Why, you know!' said Drake, who had expected any reaction but this.

  'Tell me about him,' said Hearst. 'Tell me everything about him you've seen and heard.'

  Thus began one of those long, long interrogations which Drake, by now, was heartily sick of. At the end of it, Drake cut open the lining of his jerkin and handed over both Alish's letter to Hearst and Alish's letter to Watashi.

  Hearst read both, then sent a messenger to summon Watashi into his presence. Farfalla's son arrived promptly.'You!' said Watashi, on seeing Drake.

  'Nay,' said Drake, 'I died at sea some many days ago. What you see here is none but my ghost.'

  But Watashi was not as credulous as the guard Drake had frightened earlier, and Drake's swift-flowing horror-talk was cut short by Hearst.

  'Business,' said Hearst. 'Elkor Alish is playing a trick with this fellow. A trick he learnt from Selzirk. He holds two of the man's friends as hostage, requiring, for their release, proof of delivery of two letters.''How does that concern me?' said Watashi.

  'One of those proofs must come from me,' said Hearst. 'But the other needs come from you.'

  'I give no proofs to this thieving whoreson bastard,' said Watashi.

  'You will give proofs,' said Hearst, waving a letter, 'or I will give this document to the Regency.' 'What says it?'

  'This letter from Alish to you invites you to join with him in making war on the Regency and installing yourself as emperor of the Harvest Plains.'

  'That speaks of no crime on my part,' said Watashi. 'It's no crime to be made an offer, no matter how criminal. Crime lies only in the acceptance, which I'd never make – and which none could prove against me.'

  'I know little of the filthy politics of this city,' said Hearst, 'but I'm sure your Regency would make great play of this letter. You might win clear to freedom, for sure – but is it not better to give the man his proofs, and avoid all chance of such embarrassment?''Why do you take his part?' said Watashi.

  'Honour acts,' said Hearst. 'It does me no harm to give proof to Elkor Alish that I have seen his letter, and thus release two men held hostage.''No harm? Such proof might see one hanged!'

  'No,' said Hearst. 'For I will simply date a piece of parchment, write on it that the petition of Drake Douay has been refused, then sign it. That will be proof enough. You will do the same. You cannot be hung, young lordling, for refusing an unspecified petition. That's no crime I know of in any law.'

  Watashi, grudgingly, did as Hearst obliged him to. Then Hearst dismissed him.

  'So,' said Hearst, holding up two pieces of parchment, 'you have your proofs. Satisfied?'

  'I'd be more satisfied if they could be delivered,' said Drake boldly. 'For I've no wish to leave Selzirk. There's a lady I wish to claim, aye, first for love, and second to spite the senile old whoremaster who holds her captive. Have you couriers to Runcorn?'

  'None,' said Hearst. 'But such I can find. I'll see your proofs get through.'

  Then Hearst dismissed Drake, and dismissed the whole queue of petitioners as well. For he wanted to be alone, so he could think over the letter which Alish had written to him.

  But what was in that letter, and what H
earst made of it, and what he did as a result . . . those things were of no concern to Drake Douay, who had other business on his mind.

  Zanya, my heart, me dearest princess. Despair not! 'Tis I, the lordly young Dreldragon, who rides even now to the rescue! I will fight to thy dungeon and free thee from the fiend. Even if I must slay a watermelon stand to do so!

  52

  Law. the rule of past over present, the dead over the living, precedent over pure reason, syntax over sense and of absurd fictions over urgent realities.

  Drake the Doughty, rightful king of Stokos (with Tor dead, who had a better claim?), questing hero extraordinary, star of the Great Arena in Dalar ken Halvar, cocksman and shivman both, thought himself safe enough when he went in pursuit of the red-skinned Zanya Kliedervaust. After all, he had received a full pardon for all crimes he had committed, both in and out of Selzirk. Thus he was safe from the law – or thought he was. And he was confident he could deal with Gouda Muck and his bully boys.

  In Jone, Drake found many of his former friends, and persuaded them to come to Santrim with him for a bit of fun. They fronted up to Libernek Square, where Muck was preaching to the usual jeering crowd. Drake, safe with his comrades to support him, slanged off at Muck, and called on him to yield up the fair lady Zanya.

  Muck had no dogs, crocodiles or watermelon stands which he could set upon Drake Douay, so sent his Flame-clad stave men to do battle with the questing hero. The crowd joined the fight – on Drake's side – and Muck's men had to beat a hasty retreat.The next day, Drake returned.

  'Send out your bravos!' he bawled, brandishing a knife. 'I've sworn to take five scalps by sundown!'

  When nobody came forth from Muck's temple to do battle, Drake and his colleague sang scatological songs in three-part harmony. The crowd joined in. The next day, Drake returned again. He found the crowd larger, more enthusiastic. Great stuff!

  'Come out, Muck!' yelled Drake. 'Or I'll storm your gates!'

  Muck stayed out of sight, and Drake judged that the crowd was not quite yet ready to take Muck's temple by force.