'That's enough, Cromarty!' said Togura. 'You're disgracing the estate!'
'Why so,' said Cromarty softly. 'Our little Spunk Togura is riding the angers, hey? All up and on about the precious estate. It's my estate, little boy! I'm the one who inherits.'
'Then behave yourself until you do,' said Togura manfully. 'Now pack your rabble out of here. Go!'
'Not so swell, my hearty,' said Cromarty, unshipping a knife.
Togura was unarmed. He grabbed for a stick, but one of Cromarty's scungers stepped on it.
'Cut him, Crom!' said one.
'I will,' said Cromarty, his face turning ugly. 'Oh, certain, certain. It's ribbons for little Togura!'
'No fighting, children,' said the old man, trying to intervene. 'Pitilkin doesn't like fighting.'
'Stand aside, grandad,' said Cromarty, giving him a hearty push.
'Kill him, Crom!' yelled an eager admirer.
'I will,' said Cromarty. 'For sure.'
'And he moved in on the attack. He slashed at Togura, who leapt backwards. Cromarty advanced. He was good with a blade. Even when drunk, he was good.
'Stop this!' screamed Day.
She tried to intervene, but was restrained. Cromarty's mobsters had their blood up. They were shouting:
'Into him, Crom!'
'Scallop him!'
'Finish him!'
Suddenly the old man swung his shepherd's crook. The stout wooden staff smashed Cromarty's wrist. Quick as a flash, the old man demolished the surviving lantern. There were shouts, roars and cries of pain in the darkness. Togura hit the dirt and stayed down. Someone trampled over him, fleeing for shelter. He heard the vicious whistle of the old man's stick slicing through the air.
Then it was all over. Cromarty and his friends had fled. They could be heard swearing in the darkness; then, as their cries diminished in the distance, Togura became aware that music was still playing in the banquet hall. While he had been in danger of being sliced and diced, his father's guests had been amusing themselves all unawares of the drama taking place out in the night.
'Tog!' called Day, loudly, almost directly overhead.
'Here,' said Togura, feeling for her in the darkness as he tried to get to his feet.
His blundering hand slid straight up her dress to the warmest part of her flesh. She screamed. He jerked his hand away as if it had been burnt.
'Tog,' said Day, uncertainly. 'Was that you?'
'What the feck and fuckle did you think it was, girl?' said the ancient mariner. 'An octopus? Come on, children, pull yourselves together.'
They did not answer, for they were now embracing.
'Tog, oh Tog,' said Day, holding him close and tight. 'I was so worried. Are you all right?'
'Fine,' said Togura. 'If only I'd had a blade! I would've cut him from spleen to kidney. I would've – '
'Leave your heroics for later,' said the old man sharply. 'If we can't work on the boat tonight, I want to sleep. Where's my bed for the night?'
'You've got a nerve!' said Togura, who bitterly resented the fact that it was this querulous old madman who had just saved his life or his beauty, or maybe both.
'Come on,' said Day. 'Don't be nasty. I'm sure we can find him a place to stay for the night.'
'Oh, all right, then,' said Togura. 'Let's go.'
They went back to the banquet hall, where they met Quail the rouster. He was bearing a lighted candle, which he was trying to shield with his hand. As they drew near, he recognised them.
'Master Togura!' said Quail. 'Have you seen the doorway lanterns by any chance?'
'Why, has someone lifted them?' said Togura.
'Yes. Some of your young friends, perhaps? That little sod Cromarty was on the muck tonight.'
'Is that so?' said Togura. 'Well, a couple of lanterns isn't the end of the world. Tell me, man Quail, can you bed down this gentleman for the night?'
Quail peered at the ancient mariner.
'Are you sure we want to house this individual, Master Togura?'
'Pitilkin sleeps quietly,' said the old man, his voice quavering. 'No trouble, no trouble.'
'Just for the night,' said Togura.
'It won't do any harm,' said Day.
'Well… just for the night then,' said Quail, doubtfully. 'There's probably a spare garrow at the backstop, if the incest twins haven't bedded themselves down for the night. Otherwise, I'm afraid it'll be the stable.'
'Thanks,' said Togura, turning to go.
'Oh, and Master Togura – if you see Cromarty and his spry young brags, ask them about the lantern, will you?'
'We will,' said Day. 'Thanks for everything.'
Togura took her hand and they walked off into the night together. His hopes were high, but they were soon to be disappointed: he did not lose his virginity that night.
Chapter 3
'I don't suppose you know how your brother damaged his wrist,' said Baron Chan Poulaan.
'I don't keep track of his business,' said his son Togura.
The baron harrumphed, but did not press the point.
The two were riding side by side. They were on a road, or what passed for a road in those parts, which led to the city state of Keep. The baron was riding a brindled mare and his son was riding a donkey. Following on behind, riding Kloggles the Mule – and it took a brave man or a foolish man to venture that – was Prick, the baron's venerable secretary.
'The fog seems to be closing in,' said Togura, looking around.
'I'd noticed that,' said his father.
'Perhaps we should stop till it clears.'
'We might be here all day,' said his father. 'We'll go on.'
And they did.
Visibility swiftly became zero. The road abruptly became peat bog. After floundering around in the mist for a while, they staggered out of the bog, hauling their animals along with them, only to find themselves waist-deep in flourishing gorse. The baron cursed and struck out with his sword, accidentally clouting Prick with the flat of the blade.
Fortunately, it then began to rain, causing the fog to dissipate swiftly. Unfortunately, they found themselves on a small gorse-covered island surrounded by peat bog.
'There's the road!' said Togura, pointing to an indeterminate ribbon of mud and stones lying some distance from the island.
'Your powers of observation astound me,' said the baron grimly, leading the way back into the bog.
Kloggles the Mule was most reluctant to leave the little island, but, after a savage battle with no holds barred, they forced him back through the bog to the road. By this time, they were mud from ankle to shoulder. Fortunately, the rain was rapidly becoming a solid downpour, suggesting that they might be able to strip off their dirty clothes, take a shower in the rain then change into clean clothes. Unfortunately, they had no clean clothes to change into.
'I think,' said Togura, 'that perhaps this is not the best of days on which to go and visit the king.'
'You are young, my son,' said his father, 'but not entirely devoid of wisdom. Come, let us make for home.'
And they retreated back down the road, which was rapidly becoming a quagmire.
The next day, in fine clear weather, they set out again. The road was muddy, but they reached the outskirts of
