And he had a headache. A bad one.
His mouth, which was dry, tasted foul, as if a stale sock full of dead blowflies had been sitting in it for a couple of weeks.
And his eyes winced from the light.
He had, in short, a hangover. Not the worst one of his life – he did, after all, finally manage to drag himself out of bed – but a pretty bad one.
He dressed, slowly.
The dragon, cunning as a cat, watched him, its eyes unblinking. The stare irritated Hearst: he reached up and tore the banner down from the wall, bunched it up and threw it into one corner of the room. Then he opened the shutters, letting in dazzling morning sunlight. A mistake! He flinched as the light chiseled into his eyes.
'Ahyak Rovac,' croaked Hearst.
Any expert on frogs would, from that croak, have diagnosed him as being rather sick.
He found a big stone jar full of water, dunked his head in it, then, without bothering to surface, drank in big, labouring gulps. Then threw up his head and gasped for air.
He felt a little better.
He felt, to be precise, like a man of seventy who has been dead for a day and a half, which was an improvement on feeling like a man of a thousand and three years who has been dead for the better part of a century.
'I'll never drink again, not ever,' muttered Hearst. Then, yielding to the promptings of a certain innate caution: 'Or not without provocation.'
He found that, by now, he could just about endure the light coming in through the window.
From this room, high in Farfalla's palace, Hearst could look out over the city of Selzirk. The streets were as quiet as the mouse the cat played with yesterday, which did not surprise him. Overjoyed by the defeat of the invaders, by the liberation of Androlmarphos and by the news that the army from the Rice Empire had turned back rather than contend against Morgan Hearst and the death-stone, the people of Selzirk had held a festival.
Hearst had thought that, after his years of war and travel, nothing could have surprised him – but never before had he seen an entire city participate in a six-day orgy. He thought it was probably over by now: for one thing, there was hardly a barrel of wine left in the whole city.
On a big table by the window were heaps of assorted rubbish: books, charts, battle-plans, orange peel, dirty clothes, weapons, faded garlands, wilted flowers, a torn silk dress – did he really remember what he remembered, or was he only imagining it? – remnants of Alish's blood-red battle-standard, a copper bracelet, a silver bangle, a scattering of walnuts.
Hearst scooped up the nuts then rummaged the rubbish till he had recovered some cold chicken and half an apple, brown from exposure to the air but still edible.
As Hearst ate, he fingered a multi-faceted black gem inside which a red flame twisted, continually moving and changing shape as if trying to escape. He had found it the day after the defeat of Alish's army which, unable to defend Androlmarphos against walking rocks, had fled the city.
During bitter confused fighting on the quays of Androlmarphos, many rocks, escaping Miphon's control, had gone reeling into the water. There had been blood on Hearst's sword then: he had been in the thick of the fighting. It had seemed, once, that he would meet Alish face to face – then Alish had been wounded by an arrow, and dragged to safety by his comrades.
The pirates had succeeded in getting only five ships to sea. Hearst had wanted to let them go, but seven of the ships captured in the battle on the quays had set out before he could gain control of the confusion. In an eighth ship, Hearst had followed.
At sea, it had seemed the better seamanship of the pirates must take them to safety. Then they had passed a pod of whales. Miphon had used his powers of control to make the whales attack Elkor Alish's ships, with devastating results.
With three ships sunk, Hearst had tried to persuade Miphon to let the others escape. But Miphon, intoxicated by success – and well Hearst knew that enthusiasm -had refused. Hearst had broken Miphon's concentration by throwing a bucket of seawater over him, and had then signalled the ships under his command to withdraw toward Androlmarphos, leaving Alish's surviving ships to pick up the men from the craft sunk by whales.
So Alish, as far as Hearst knew, had escaped. Hearst had let him go. And why not? Alish could do little damage now. Under Alish's leadership, his troops had lost the city of Androlmarphos and the fleet they had used to attack it; most of the men of his command were dead or had been taken prisoner. It was not the kind of record that would attract many enthusiastic followers.
All things considered, nobody had gained anything from the struggle for Androlmarphos. Men, ships and horses had been destroyed, together with the greater part of the city's eastern walls, and much good arable land outside the city was now sheeted over with stone. However, Hearst had obtained this trophy – the multi-faceted black gem with flame dancing inside it.
He had found it when inspecting the ruins of the pyramid east of Androlmarphos; it had been lying beside the golden coffin of the wizard emperor who had been buried there. Miphon had named the gem for what it was: a key to the tower of Ebber. Farfalla had insisted that it be thrown away, saying it was known that the tower was haunted by fearful danger; Hearst had kept the gem, mostly because his pride told him he had yielded to Farfalla's judgment too many times already.
He finished his meagre meal and left his quarters. In the rooms and corridors of Farfalla's palace, servants were cleaning up, repairing the damage done by the festivities. He was right: the holiday was over. And Hearst knew that soon he must go south, bearing the death-stone to the Castle of Controlling power. Having used it himself, he felt personally responsible for seeing that it was decently laid to rest.
He decided that today his first job would be to see how the wounded were faring. All had been transported to Selzirk in the red bottle or the green, and Miphon was supervising their welfare. Miphon would not have been distracted by the festivities, as Hearst knew – but he had allowed himself to neglect every single one of his responsibilities.
He still had a headache; his mind was limping along on crutches. He resisted the temptation to go and seek out a drink, suspecting that one would lead to another; Miphon had given him a severe lecture on drink recently, and Hearst, grudgingly, was beginning to think the wizard might have a point.
Late in the afternoon, Hearst approached the private apartments of the kingmaker Farfalla. A solitary guard stood aside to let him enter; no doorway in all of Selzirk was barred to the city's hero, Morgan Hearst.
Farfalla was sitting reading a pile of reports when Hearst found her. She looked up, smiled. He did not return her smile.
'Morgan,' said Farfalla. 'How good to see you.'
Hearst said nothing.
'Our interrogators have been at work while the city indulged itself. Look – we've charts which show the Greater Teeth in detail, and all the defences of the largest harbour on Stokos.'
Farfalla held out the charts for Hearst's inspection. He did not move, but stared at her, his grey eyes cold and hard.
'All right,' said Farfalla. 'Say what you have to.' 'You know what I've got to say,' said Hearst. 'Then it won't hurt me to hear it, will it?' 'No,' said Hearst, i suppose it won't.' And suddenly he felt tired, very tired, and sat down. 'Would you like some wine?' said Farfalla. it might help,' said Hearst, despite his earlier resolutions.
Farfalla poured amber-coloured wine into glasses of cut crystal. The wine had a strange, penetrating, flowery smell.
'This comes from Vasserway, far to the north, in the Ravlish Lands,' said Farfalla.
'The wine or the crystal?' said Hearst. 'Both,' said Farfalla. 'You know we trade with the world.'
That, it must be said, was an exaggeration. Nevertheless, Hearst said: i know it.'
He watched Farfalla sip her wine, then reached out and took her glass from her hand.
'Are you afraid of poison?' said Farfalla, picking up the glass she had prepared for Hearst, and draining it. 'There. Safe, see? What kind of person do you think I am?'
