to? What's all this – blood's corruption! What a stink!'
'Paps!' said Togura, almost weeping with joy and relief.
'Don't call me that!' said his father, savagely. 'What's making this mess? What's that music-thing?'
'It's commanding the odex,' said Togura.
'Then stop it.'
'I can't,' said Togura.
'Can't?' said his father. 'I'll show you can't!'
And he snatched the triple-harp from Togura.
'No, paps!' screamed Togura.
But hsi father put the triple-harp on his knee and smashed it with his mailed fist. The music jangled away into silence. One last thing fell out of the odex: a black-clad Zenjingu fighter and the young and beautiful Day Suet.
'Day!' shouted Togura.
'Help me!' screamed Day.
The Zenjingu fighter looked around, bewildered. As far as he was concerned, he had jumped into the odex – which had been described to him as a door – just a moment before. That had been at night. Now broad daylight shone down, revealing -
The Zenjingu fighter saw what he was standing in, and swore. He picked up Day Suet and threw her into the odex. Then he jumped in after her, and was gone. An ilps popped out of the odex, giggled, and hauled itself into the sky.
'Well,' said Baron Chan Poulaan, briskly. 'So much for that. Come along home, Togura.'
Togura turned and smashed him. Or tried to. What actually happened was that his father caught his fist in his hand.
'If you want to play fisticuffs,' said the baron, 'do it with someone else. Coming? No? Well, we'll see you when you get hungry, no doubt.'
And with that, Baron Chan Poulaan strode for the exit.
'Wait about!' said Governor Troop, intercepting him. 'You haven't paid the resurrection tax yet.'
'Resurrection tax?' said the baron, in tones of outraged incredulity.
'You've been in the odex three year,s you know. You owe us three years' rent, as well.'
'It was you who let those pig-licking Suets throw me into it in the first place,' roared the baron.
'That doesn't alter your obligations,' said the Governor.
And he grabbed hold of the baron, who smashed him with one mail-clad fist, breaking his collar bone. As Governor Troop slumped down in the muck, the baron stalked out of the Wordsmiths' compound; Togura thought it safest to follow him.
He foudn a quiet corner then sat down and wept bitter tears of hate, spite, self-disgust, self-pity, remorse, frustration and despair.
Chapter 44
What now?
The only thing Togura could think of was to go to the island of Drum and get help from the wizard of Drum. Somewhere, other indexes were hidden. He would have to go and get one. He had to!
Anyway, first things first.
Furtively, Togura stole water from someone's rainwater barrel, and cleaned himself up. Then he went and sold his sword, to get some working capital. He still had a knife, after all, and lack of food would kill him sooner than would lack of a sword.
With a little of the money, he bought some roasted chestnuts, and wandered about, eating slowly, and brooding. While he was still undecided as to what to do next, he was hailed:
'Hi there!'
Looking around, Togura saw his half-brother Cromarty approaching with half a dozen grinning scungers flanking him.
'Long time no see, little brother,' said Cromarty.
'Pax,' said Togura, offering peace.
'Oh, we could always have pax with your bones, suppose suppose,' said Cromarty.
And advanced on him, with evil his obvious intent. Togura turned and fled. Whooping, Cromarty's mob followed. They ran him to earth near Dead Man's Drop. Caught in a cul-de-sac, Togura turned at bay, his back to the wall and a knife in his hand.
Cromarty drew to meet his challenge.
'This is the end, methinks methinks,' said Cromarty, closing with him. 'So it's goodbye little Tog-Tog.'
Steel against steel, they clashed, slashed, lunged, parried. Panting, they thrust and counterthrust, dared for a blink, hacked, countered, feinted, tried for a scalp.
'Blood his eyeballs, Crom!' screamed one of the mobsters.
'Bollock him!'
'Rivet him!'
'Into him, Crom!'
'A throat tattoo! Teach him!'
Then Cromarty slipped. Togura put in the boot. Cromarty went backwards. Togura stamped all the wind out of him, then grabbed him, knife to throat.
'Yield!' hissed Togura, digging his steel in just a little deepr than a tickle. 'Yield!'
Cromarty slowly got his breath back. He croaked:
'I yield.'
'Good,' said Togura.
And stood, and sheathed his knife. Cromarty's sidekicks promptly grabbed him.
'Let go!' shouted Togura, kicking, punching, wriggling, scratching, biting – all to no avail.
'Good,' crooned Cromarty, mustering up a smile. 'Very good. What shall we do with him?'
'Throw him over Dead Man's Drop,' suggested one.
'An excellent idea!' said Cromarty, beaming.
Togura started to scream with hysterical panic as they carried him through the streets to Dead Man's Drop. Nobody took any notice – private quarrels, after all, were private quarrels.
They reached the Drop.
'Take off his boots, boys,' said Cromarty.
They took them off.
'Hold him over the edge,' said Cromarty.
Togura was held.
'Watch,' said Cromarty, with sweet satisfaction in his voice.
He lofted first one boot then the other into the air. They went sailing down, falling away to the pinnacles far below. Togura, sick with fear, vomited weakly. His whole body was trembling.
'Please don't,' he begged. 'Please please please don't. I'll do anything!'
Cromarty tore the green bottle from Togura's belt, where it had been tied on with twine. He threw that over too.
'We're brothers!' screamed Togura.
'I'm no brother of yours, son of a whore,' said Cromarty pleasantly.
'Don't don't don't do it,' said Togura, almost too frightened to speak. 'I'll do anything.'
'Will you lick my boots?'
'Yes!'
'My arse?'
'Yes!'
'Well,' said Cromarty, sweetly, 'I don't want any boot-licking arse-lickers in my family. Throw him over,
