by Hugh Cook
'Likewise, by his own testimony, you know I did no damage to him and his, barring the trifling matter of the letter Ac0wae, knocked from a sword by accident. No harm he had of me till the day I was beaten once too often, and ran.
'For I am mild by nature, and not built all that big, so I'd always rather run than fight. As for his mastersword, well, what can I say? Muck was a swordsmith making at least a blade every day, so what would one be more or less?'
At this, Muck made a determined effort to stand and shout. A gag was slapped into his mouth, and he was carried from the courtroom.
'Poor man!' said Drake. T hope he's right by the morrow. As I say, he had his funny moods. But he was good in his day, aye, and taught me much. Mad as he is, no doubt he told the Court the truth as he sees it. Let's look at this truth.
'Muck claims I was cook's boy on a pirate ship. Well, that's true enough, I won't deny it. As I've told the Court already, I'm a gentle chap, with precious little fight in my bones. So I was low in the rank when I were with the pirates, for I never had the heart to match cutlass with cutlass, or do foul things to fair women captured.
'As Gouda Muck has told the Court, my time on the pirate ships saw me diligent in prayer, raising my voice to the god I was taught to worship when I were but a lad, scraping around for whatever sacrifices lay within my means.
'The Court sees me, then, for what I am – shy, pious, eager for religion. And never raising a hand against the man who kicked and beat me all those years.
'Now, on to Runcorn. What has Muck to tell of Runcorn? Why, that he got there one evening and left the next night, or thereabouts. And did he see me much in all that time? Why, from his own testimony, no.
'For he spent the first evening resting at the inn. Next morning he spent deep in conversation with some Aard Lox. Who's he? I never heard of him before today, I'll tell you that for real.
'Anyway. This Aard Lox sells Muck a certain document you've all heard tell of. The Book of Witness. Aye. Well, paper's one thing, truth's another. There's people in Selzirk making a right good living selling maps to cities of buried treasure. Aye. The maps sell well – that's why they're treasure maps.'Laughter from the audience. The judge frowned.
T didn't mean for them to laugh!' protested Drake. 'But it's true! There's fools who will believe anything. As for Muck – what wouldn't the man believe, him with his Flame and all? What I'm saying is, let's not believe everything that's down on paper. If all such is believable, then there's an ocean of treasure out there!'No laughter this time.Drake continued:
'Anyway, with paper purchased, Muck goes to a square to find there's a riot. Did I start it? No. Muck himself says
I was doing my best to stop it. And how? By talking the people from looting to the honest business of slaving, which, as the Court knows well, is highly respected in Selzirk as elsewhere.
'You've had all kind of sorry troubles come from out of the north, but, as Muck has told it well, I was never mixed with any mad plans for invading Selzirk.
'Now how long did Muck see me for? Scarce long enough to hear me shout that I was Arabin lol Arabin. After that, he had troubles of his own.
'Out of this little, Muck makes much. A handful of words. Some paper bought from a stranger. From that, he makes me ruler of Runcorn. A strange turn of events!
'As the Court has heard, for years I was meek, mild, yielding without anger to all kinds of punishment, praying most diligent to my god, doing a humble job as cook in a sea ship's kitchen. But next moment I'm suddenly conjured into this conqueror of Runcorn, a terrible swordsman who kills people in open duel, and all the rest of the wild things you've heard.
'Now the truth is easy enough explained. I parted from the pirates right enough, for reasons you'll know yourselves by now. That wasn't my style. They'd probably have murdered an innocent boy like me if I'd kept with them that much longer. So I took to shore, and to honest work.
'My apprenticeship I never finished. Aye. That's much to be regretted. But I could cook. So in Runcorn I got a job as cook of sorts, aye, for this Arabin lol Arabin. Now he was a mighty magnificent man, and right bloody dangerous into the bargain. But what means his name, Arabin lol Arabin? Why, in Galish it's plain enough: it means he was the son of some fellow Arabin.
'But, me, I'm the son of Teff Douay, the nephew of Oleg Douay, the grandson of Vytor Douay, and so on back through fifty generations, all of them Douay. So I could never have any Arabin as my father, that's for real.'Anyhow.
'There I was in Runcorn, scratching an honest living as cook for this Arabin lol Arabin, when he came upon troubles which I don't rightly pretend to understand; seeing as I'm not political at all, I don't hold with messing with the business of me betters. And in the riot he was killed.'So.
'Something had to be done, or these anarchist types who were rioting would have torn the town apart. Now, I'm not a man of action, but I felt it my duty to try. So up I got on my two hind legs, and tried to turn them from reckless riots to honest slaving, which, as all the world knows, is an admirable kind of enterprise to be engaged in.
'But they wouldn't answer to my leadership. So I thought myself to impress them with the fact that the old leader was dead – partly because it was his death they were raging for, so if they knew him finished the trouble would die down. So I went to shout out that "I am here with the news that Arabin lol Arabin is dead."
'But that's a proper mouthful, and I'm no speaker. So in the heat of the moment, my tongue tripped upside down, and nothing cameoutbut "lam Arabin lol Arabin". Well, and the worthy Gouda Muck heard that right enough, and a lot of misunderstanding there's been of it since.
'Let's talk about these treasure maps Muck bought, some papers called The Book of Witness, all about this Arabin fellow. There was one bit I didn't hear right the first time, so I got it read out a second, aye, and Gouda Muck swore it was told right to the Court.'You all heard it.
'There was hot words said in the City Hall in Runcorn. A regular uproar, after which none knew just what had been said. But there was some Record, which must mean a Record in writing. And you've heard that this Arabin fellow called attention to what the Record said, which was "No".'Was that me?'How could it have been?'For I be but an ignorant apprentice, who knows not the letter Ac0wae from any other. I couldn't read in any Record to save my life.
'Now, after I left Runcorn, I came to this fair city of Selzirk, most beautiful city I've ever set eyes on. And, bye and bye, I heard how Muck was in town. Aye, with a woman Zanya with him.
'Now this fancy document which Muck picked up in Runcorn, it tells how Arabin lol Arabin had a woman named Zanya. Now so he did. But I had a woman, too, and her name was also Zanya. And the Court won't deny that two women can share the same name. Now I'm a mild fellow, as the Court's heard, but there's one time when I did fight true.'
And Drake looked at Zanya. And she gazed back at him. And he knew she was sitting in judgment on him. She would be called to the witness stand next. And she would make his life or break it. Yes.
'Zanya,' he said, making love to her name as he spoke it. 'I saw her first when I was floating in the sea, a horizon away from Stokos. I was the sole survivor of a shipwreck. I fell in love with her then at first sight. But cruel circumstances later parted us. I was never able to court her as I wished to.
'Where did we meet again? Why, on Burntos – an island to which I went on a ship then engaged in honest trade. Briefly we met, but, after a few days, parted.
'We next met in an arena in the city of Dalar ken Halvar. I was tumbled there by a kind of magic. And if the Court doubts that, they can ask the fair and most beautiful lady Zanya for the proof of it, for there she sits by that old fellow there who's wearing the straw hat.'
'Take that hat off!' shouted Judge Syrphus, who had not until then noticed that anyone was wearing a hat in his court.
'Why,' said Drake, as the hat came off. 'Now we can see her plainer. Aye, and a beautiful sight she makes. We were reunited, as I've told, when I'd bee
n tumbled by magic to an arena built for killing.
'There she stood, tied to a slaughter post. Aye, and there were monsters afoot in the arena, huge things brutal with teeth and claws.
T was rightly minded to run, for my legs were wet with terror. Aye, and the magic which had tumbled me to the arena gave me a Door I could have fled through, tricing away in an instant. But no. She were of such beauty that I could not leave her for the slaughter.
'So I drew the steel I carried, as every pirate must be he cook's boy or captain. And I went chest to chest with the monster, aye, and slaughtered it. My one act as a hero. And it was for her that I killed.
'Thus she was with me when I came to Runcorn to go to work as a cook. And a hard life we had there, aye, always so much to be done, we'd scarce time to kiss twice in a day. Which was a fault of circumstances, not of she or me.
'Since then, as you've heard, she's been guardian of the purity of Gouda Muck. We've not heard from Muck exactly what that means, though I've got my own ideas about it: And if I've any quarrel with Gouda Muck, then it's over this woman. For, as the Court's heard tell, in Selzirk I went seeking my woman from Muck.
'Aye. And might have got her back, except I was arrested on false charges, for which I've since been pardoned. Arrested. Thrown into a dungeon. No light, no air, no food, no water. Darkness. Rats. Chains. Terror. Torture. Day on day unyielding. Only one thing kept me alive, and that were thinking of my fair pure Zanya.'
Mention of purity naturally brought to mind the question of appetite. How to deal with that one?
Speak from the heart, man. Things are getting too complicated. No time for more lies. So speak from the heart.'Zanya. Yes.T lusted for her. That I'll not deny.
'My lust, in part, was frankly carnal. Sometimes women are insulted by such lust, for lust is an appetite, so some think that to be lusted for is to be devoured, as a dead fish is devoured at table. But one does not go chest to chest with a monster for the sake of a dead fish. Nay. Even a starving man would not duel it out with a monster for a dead fish.
'Together with my lust was my love also. It was love which made me fight that monster. Love at first sight.
'Sometimes I'm right hungry, man, and I sit down at table with my friends. Like animals we go at it, aye, teeth, lips, tongue, in and out, sweat, saliva – a regular meal for our hunger. But when it's over, we don't look on each other with disgust. For we're friends, yes, and to share the meal of our appetites is but to share bur friendship, aye, our very love for each other.
'That's why we eat together at table, instead of satisfying our hungers in squalid solitude, one in each corner alone. And … is not the hunger mutual?'
Then Drake looked at Zanya, looked long and with longing, saying nothing. Until finally Judge Syrphus, puzzled, said:
'The accused seems to have lost the thread of his argument. Has he anything further to say to the Court reference the testimony of Gouda Muck?'
'Nothing, my lord judge,' said Drake, still gazing on Zanya, 'for I have spoken my heart out, and have nothing more to say.'
'Then let the prosecutor call his next witness,' said the judge.
And the prosecutor called Zanya Kliedervaust to the witness stand.
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Name: Zanya Kliedervaust.
Description: healthy high-breasted woman, red skin, red hair, white teeth.
Birthplace: Unch, on Lebrew (largest of the Ebrell Islands).
Career: priestess of Orgy God of the Ebrells; convert to Goudanism; missionary to Parengarenga; martyr in Dalar ken Halvar; survivor in Penvash; Drake's woman in Runcorn; Gouda Muck's mistress in Selzirk.
'In the witness stand is Zanya Kliedervaust, formerly of the Ebrell Islands,' said the prosecutor. 'She will shortly give testimony which will doom the evil Drake Douay to a living death in the deepest, darkest, filthiest rat-infested dungeon we can find for him.
'But before we hear her testimony, let me untangle the web woven by Drake Douay for public display. He has posed as a poor, meek, ignorant apprentice. But his own performance proves him shrewd, quick-witted, dangerously intelligent and amazingly cunning in cross-examination.
'This man could very well have been Arabin lol Arabin, behaving as described in The Book of Witness. There's nothing meek, mild or safe or law-abiding about him. Plainly, he's copied the style of an excellent lawyer. I put it to the Court that the lawyer in question was, in all
probability, the Garimanthea mentioned in The Book of Witness.
'The accused tries to dismiss that document because it says he read a single word from a certain Record. Now, four or five years ago, he may not have known the letter Ac0wa; from any other. But he's had time since to learn to read and write half a dozen different languages, if he chose.''Time, yes,' interjected Drake. 'But no opportunity.'
'Opportunity, surely,' said the prosecutor, 'to learn how to read one simple word like "No." In any case, The Book of Witness does not say Arabin lol Arabin read from the Record, only that he called attention to its contents. If the accused is indeed illiterate, then his lawyer could have told him what lay in the Record for him to call attention to.
'The accused would also have us believe he cried "I am Arabin lol Arabin" when he meant to say something entirely different. Judge his perfomance today! Not one slip, pause, stammer or stutter. Not a single word out of place. This speaks of an accomplished orator – or an accomplished liar. Or of both.
'The accused has a highly trained mind. As Gouda Muck told us, the accused studied on Stokos, sharpening his wits by learning theory of all description by heart. How can we believe he'd let his tongue trip upside down when it came to saying a few simple words to a crowd? He speaks well – and the very eloquence which defends him condemns him.
'He said to the crowd that he was Arabin lol Arabin. Doubtless that was what he meant. So much for his rhetoric! Now to our witness. You are Zanya Kliedervaust, born on the Ebrells?''Iam,' she said.'What did you there?''I was priestess of the Orgy God.''What did that involve?''Being used by men in the way of lust.''And did you like that?'
'No. How could I? For they treated me as meat. What way is that to treat a woman? They were rough. They used cruel language. They bruised me. They did things which I would not like to speak of in Court, or out of it either.'
'Then we'll not ask you about such,' said the Prosecutor. 'Now. You first met Gouda Muck when?'
'When I travelled to Stokos, having left the Ebrells, for I was sick of the life there, which had killed out my family entire. Always drinking, fighting, feuding, gambling-'
'Yes, yes. But Muck. What reception did he give you, on Stokos?''Oh, it was wonderful,' said Zanya.
She described her conversion to Goudanism. She revelled in her memories of those glorious days. Muck had taught her a woman could be pure. Which meant being free from that horrible business of being bruised, used, rucked, fisted, slathered and taken – again and again and again. Then abandoned.
'So you converted to a religion of purity,' said the prosecutor. 'What then?'
T went to the world as a missionary. In time, I was martyred in the arena at Dalar ken Halvar. And there . . . as Drake said, he saved me.'
'At that time, did he strike you as meek, mild, pious and law-abiding?'
'Why, no,' said Zanya. 'He came like a hero. He killed monsters right and left. Then said words to me, marvellous words, which thrilled my blood. I can't remember what they were, but they were . . . yes, wonderful. Then we were whirled away by magic to the forests of Penvash.''What magic is this?' inquired Judge Syrphus.
Confused explanations followed, which did not entirely satisfy the Court. But there was no helping the lack of satisfaction, so the subject was dropped.
'And in Penvash,' said the prosecutor, 'did Drake treat you with purity?'
'Why,' said Zanya, 'he lay with me to keep me warm. But that was as far as it went.''By warmth,' said the prosecutor, thinking this was no time for euphemisms, 'I suppose you mean the vile, filthy, unholy ways of lust.'
'Well, no,' said Zanya, 'I mean it was cold, so two bodies were warmer than one.''Oh,' said the prosecutor, momentarily nonplussed.
The prosecutor, looking through his notes, started to wish his pretrial interview with this witness had not been so cursory.
'Are you sure,' said the prosecutor, 'that you're telling the truth? I mean – you were alone in the forest with this man. Wouldn't it be natural for him to force you? He was a pirate, after all. Could you have forgotten?'
'Perhaps you're in the habit of forgetting a rape,' said Zanya, 'but I'm not so casual about it.'
Laughter rocked the court. The prosecutor, flustered, dropped his notes. The judge called for order. And Zanya cast her mind back to those days in Penvash. Drake had not taken her then. No, not until they reached the southern border of Estar. And then … as he said, the hunger was mutual.
In Runcorn, when Yot had explained that Drake was in fact the dreaded son of the demon Hagon, the incarnation of all evil, the shock had initially unbalanced her. By then, too, she had had genuine grievances against Drake – for, while in Runcorn, he had become so deeply involved with the business of government that he had grown hard, curt and brusque, using her in ways which seemed rushed and loveless.But. . . was he the son of a demon? Hardly. And . . .
'Are you sure,' said the prosecutor, 'that you have given us a correct account of events in Penvash? Are you frightened of this man Drake? Do you want him removed from the Court while you give evidence?'
'No,' said Zanya. 'No, it's quite all right. He never . . . he never did anything to frighten me. He talked of… of love, yes. That was in Penvash. Much later, when he took me he was … he cared. He knew things no other man had known – or, if they knew, they never cared to do it. Likerunning tongue from inner thigh to the lips of my-' 'That's enough!' said the prosecutor, sharply. 'Are youtrying to scandalize the Court?' 'What do you want me to say?'
'The truth! But not – nothing about sexual intimacies. That's – that's impure. Your master Gouda Muck would have told you as much.'
