It was a question which had only just occurred to him.
'I was on parole,' said Zurdok. 'We merchants of Androlmarphos have the highest reputation when it comes to probity. When I told the pirates I'd make no trouble, they took me at my word.'
'That was kind of them.'
'I'm rich. The ransom was going to make their kindness worth their while. Believe me, they knew it, too. Every pirate on the twenty-seven seas knows the wealth of Tezelja Burnok.'
'I thought you said your name was Gelzeda Zurdok,' said Togura.
'So it is, my son. Gelzeda Zurdok. A good name, too, isn't it? My credit's good from Androlmarphos to Selzirk. And beyond.'
'But just now you called yourself – '
'What?'
'I can't remember.'
'No, boy, I don't think I called myself that. Gelzeda Zurdok's the name, always has been, always will. If you start hearing different, was the wind out of your ears. That's the tavern, I take it?'
'That's right,' said Togura. 'That's the tavern.'
Bending his steps toward it, Zurdok resumed his whistling. The wind, which had weakened dramatically, was blathering away in the background; thhe rain had eased to a drizzle, and the sea to a sullen chop. Occasionally a wave larger than the rest sent a little bit of water slouching up to the tavern walls, but it seemed the storm was over.
As they neared the tavern, picking their way with care between the boggier bits of ground, a blue-feathered mocking gull, a bird of ill omen, went caterwauling overhead. Togura spat, and made a warding gesture in the direction of the retreating gull, but Zurdok did not seem to notice. Togura had already tried to dissuade Zurdok from seeking refuge in the tavern. He had failed, but now he tried again.
'I don't know that the tavern is quite the place for us,' said Togura.
'Why not?'
'It's full of thieves, pimps, card sharps and drunks.'
'Low types like us,' joked Zurdok. 'They'll make us feel at home.'
'They'll more likely draw cuts for the privilege of slicing and dicing us. It was bad enough by day. It's no place to venture at nightfall.'
'It's not dark yet, boy,' said Zurdok. 'So we'll risk a look at the place, at least.'
For a man who had recently come close to death, Zurdok was in exceptionally high spirits, all smiles and whistles. Then, as they approached the tavern from the blind side, the whistling abruptly stopped. They heard hoarse shouting and a cry of pain. A duel? A brawl?
'This may be one of those times,' said Togura, 'when it's best to leave before arriving.'
'Gather your courage,' said Zurdok. 'And follow me.'
They ducked round to the doorway side of the tavern. The first thing Togura saw was a man lying dead on the ground. The landlord was being held at bay by half a dozen masked men armed with staves, flails and hatchets. He was armed with a whip and a pitchfork. His horns were stained with bright fresh blood.
'Back, you braggarts!' roared the landlord. 'Back, before I scupper the lot of you.'
'You're the one who's scuppered,' shouted a bald man with golden roses tattooed on his naked pate. 'Here's reinforcement!' He appealed to Togura and Zurdok. 'Will you join us for the monster's gold? His death's a fortune for each of us. Will you join us?'
'Yes,' said Zurdok, striding forward.
'Good,' said the man of the golden roses.
And Zurdok booted him in the crutch then wrecked him with three well-placed blows too swift for Togura to follow. As the others gasped alarm, Zurdok's fingers flickered. A man went down with a throwing knife in his throat. The landlord hurled his pitchfork and slashed away with his whip. Zurdok drew his cutlass and laid about him. Closing with his nearest victim, the landlord gored him through the heart.
And suddenly there were four men freshly dead and two men running for their lives. The action had been so swift that Togura had scarcely had time to realise it had started. The landlord shook himself free from the body of the man he had gored.
'You!' said the landlord, in surprise.
'Me!' said Zurdok.
And the two of them embraced.
'I thought you'd setsko and amanacain,' said the landlord.
'Me? Log Jaris, you'd fana-ma-skote.'
There was a lot more of this swift, jabbering argot, which Togura found impossible to follow. The language the two men were speaking was basically Galish, but it was so full of slang and foreign lingo that he found it incomprehensible.
'Well,' said the landlord at last, breaking off the conversation, 'I'm sure we can bed down a boy and a pirate. So come in, the two of you.'
'Pirate?' said Togura, looking around.
'He's the pirate!' said the landlord, laughing as he pointed to Zurdok.
'He's no pirate,' protested Togura. 'He's Gelzeda Zurdok, merchant of Androlmarphos. He was being held prisoner on the pirate ship which was wrecked.'
'And you helped him escape from the frenzied mob.'
'Yes!' said Togura, whho was proud of his effort, which had taken a lot of quick thinking and a nimble bit of bluff.
'Well, well,' said the landlord. 'What a brave little boy. Come on, let's no more linger. Inside!'
And in they went.
The landlord's woman, she of the cat's paws, was standing behind the bar, mopping the counter. She greeted them with a placid smile, then carried on sponging up the blood which had been spilt so liberally on the counter. There were at least five sodden bodies floating in the water.
'Love,' said the landlord to the woman. 'Fetch us two bailing boys from the Nun's Backside. And send a messenger to old Karold; tell him there's butcher's meat here for the taking.'
'Shall I set up first for the evening trade?' asked the woman, her voice smooth and mellow.
'There'll be no evening trade tonight,' said the landlord. 'They'll be whooping it up at the wreck, burning their prisoners alive. Come, boys, let's have an ale.'
The three sat themselves down at a table with bread and tankards, then the landlord talked ninety to the dozen with Gelzeda Zurdok. Togura, unable to follow their quick-weaving cant, felt excluded and insulted. Finally he could stand it no more.
'What's that language you're talking?' he demanded.
'Galish,' said the landlord easily. 'Galish as she is spoke in the Greater Teeth.'
'The Greater Teeth? But only pirates live thee!'
'And what else would we be? I told you already, the man you saved from the wreck is a pirate. No – don't give me that merchant nonsense again. What merchant from Androlmarphos would walk with a sea swagger as he does? Besides, boy, if you knew your Androlmarphos you'd know that the men there have a fashion for clean shaving. They walk their lives beardless – not like Draven here.'
'Draven?' said Togura, staring at the man he knew as Gelzeda Zurdok. He'd heard that name before. The more notable sea bandits were known by name even in the households of Keep. 'Draven the Womanrider?'
'No, boy!' shouted Gelzeda Zurdok, slamming the table with the flat of his hand. 'Do I look like him? Do I speak like him? Do I stink like him? No, and no, and again no. Don't confuse me with the most notorious coward of the twenty-seven seas. I'm not the Womanrider. I'm not Draven the leper, either, or Battleaxe Draven. I'm Bluewater Draven, and you'd better remember it.'
'Peace,' said the landlord, with a smile. 'Peace, the pair of you.'
'I wasn't arguing!' said Togura.
'Then peace regardless,' said the landlord. 'He tells the truth. An unusual experience for him, but he tells it. He is, in truth, Bluewater Draven of the Greater Teeth. His ship, which was wrecked today, was one of three on a passage to Ork, an island far distant which you're not likely to have heard of. They were on a mission which does
