dozen.
'See this?' said one, letting the amulet swing backwards and forwards in front of Drake's nose, 'we want to know the truth about this.''Truth, yes.''Truth your tongue, lest you end up face down in the sea.''Yes, if lucky enough to have facejeft to you.''What truth are you after?' said Drake.
'The truth of your thieving. Accomplices. Conspiracy. A plot for treason.'
So they were not trying to convict him for theft. They wanted to do him for treason!
'I want a lawyer!' cried Drake. 'I'll have the Regency on you!'
This drew laughter.
'Man,' said one of the interrogators, 'we give no allegiance here to the Regency. No. We're for the prince. We'll see empire true before we' re finished.'
But this declaration meant nothing to Drake, who was still ignorant of the politics of Selzirk.
'Until I get a lawyer,' said Drake, 'I'm saying nothing further.'
And he shut his mouth and refused to speak, despite kicks, blows and a thorough cudgeling.
'What shall we do?' said one of the interrogators, 'Shall we pull his fingernails out?'
'Best speak to the prince, first,' said one of the others. 'He might want to work on this animal personally.'So Drake was taken back to his cell.
After three days in captivity, Drake was told he was to be brought into the presence of Watashi. By now he knew a little more about the fellow, including the fact that Watashi liked to be addressed as 'Noble Prince'.
'You're lucky,' said one of the lawmen who came to collect Drake from his cell.'How so?''We're keeping the Mucks away from you.' 'The Mucks?'
'The Goudanites, or whatever they are. Those people who worship fire.' 'Oh, Gouda Muck!'
'That's the mob. They think you're a dybbuk or something. They want to burn you alive.''And they know you've got me prisoner?'
'Oh no! But they know you're somewhere in the city. They're offering rewards for your head.''Is that legal?'
'You're a regular little law clerk, aren't you? When you come back – if you come back – I'll get you to write some letters for me.'-'Man,' said Drake. 'I can't even read, let alone write!'
'Of course you can. You're just lazy. But I've ways to unlazy people, oh yes, that's part of my pleasure in life.'
And Drake, with that happy news to refresh him, was ushered into a curtained cab, which took him from the Santrim Watch-house to somewhere elsewhere. Then, with his head hooded, he was led by way of halls and stairs to a big bare room of grey stone, where he was unmasked.'What now?' said Drake to his guards.'Now we wait on the prince's pleasure,' came the reply.
And wait they did. For a long time. Nobody bothered to offer them refreshments. Drake picked his nose clean, excavated earwax, dug dirt from under his fingernails, practised curling his tongue and, concentrating very hard, managed to make his ears wiggle. Then, with fingertips lightly touching each eyebrow to monitor their position, he practised raising one while keeping the other steady.
Someone, somewhere, was playing a fipple-flute. Two orthree notes. Then silence. Then a few more notes, broken off by error. Drake wondered how long he had been waiting. He wished there was some sun in the room, so he could watch shadows move.'I have to piss,' he said, abruptly.'Out that door then hard right,' said a lawman.
Drake went, and found himself on a high balcony overlooking much of the city. This balcony was an excrescence of a modern tower built hard up against the gatehouse keep of the ancient wizard stronghold which served the Kingmaker Farfalla as a citadel-palace. While much of the old battlements remained, together with the original wizard towers, enormous additions had been made.
Drake relieved himself at a urinal set in the balcony's low wall. A rill of his urine went trickling down a funnel into a gargoyle which spat his wastes into the air. Where would those wastes fall?
Drake looked over the wall, and found himself staring down, down, down into a yawning gulf at the bottom of which, far, far below, lazy dragon-backed flames writhed slowly. He realized he was looking into a flame trench. He was not impressed. Compared to what he had seen at Drangsturm, this was nothing.
He raised his eyes, and looked out over the realms of the free. A lean wind keened across the city, begging for bones. Dull clouds dampened out the sun. Drake could see half a dozen galleys and a string of gabbarts on the river's pewter, which wound away to the west, to a menace of clouds which obscured any possible view of the distant sea.
Drake experienced a peculiar sensation of desolation. He longed to be home, yes, truly home, at his parents' hearth. How long was it since he had seen a decent coal fire?
'You'd best be back,' said a lawman, who had come to see what had happened to the prisoner. 'The prince is approaching the audience chamber.'
That chamber was the same big bare grey room which Drake had already sat in for so long. He waited. In came a tough, fierce-faced swordsman wearing plumed helm, glittering greaves and battle-ready mail. Behind him came half a dozen men more simply dressed.
'Watashi?' said Drake, getting to his feet. 'Man, I've got a few-'
'Shut up,' said the swordsman. 'No – don't sit. Stay on your feet. The prince will be here soon.''Who are you then?' said Drake.
'I am Thodric Jarl, warrior of Rovac. And these are the prince's guards. Lawmen, you may go.'
There was an exchange of courtesies, then the black-clad lawmen retired, leaving Drake to the mercies of the prince's guards.
'Man,' said Drake. 'It's great news, you being a Rovac warrior and all. I used to know one myself, he calls himself Rolf Thelemite.'
'Thelemite?' said Jarl. 'So the oath-breaker still lives! Very well. Once the prince is finished with you, I have business with your flesh. If it still lives. I will have your knowledge of this Thelemite. Yes, and see him dead.'And Drake thought:
Then into the room came a haughty man of about age twenty-five, battle-scars on his face. Brown hair, brown eyes and dark-brown skin. Robes of blue silk, boots of white leather. A sword at his side.
'I am Watashi,' he said, 'hero of war and rightful inheritor of the Harvest Plains. Down on your knees, peon! Come on! Get down!''Make me,' said Drake.
Watashi's guards proceeded to do just that. After
Drake had been roughed up a bit, he was allowed to stand. Bloodied but still unbowed.
'It's wrong to treat me like this,' he said. 'I'm an honest peddler, from Runcorn, I demand-''You demand nothing!' barked Thodric Jarl.And gave physical emphasis to his words.
'That's enough,' said Watashi, at length. 'We don't want him dead before we have the truth out of him. You – who are you, and what?'
'I've told you,' said Drake, belligerent as ever. 'I'm from Runcorn. A peddler. Aye, and an honest man.''Honest? Then why did you steal my bard?''Your bard? What means this bard?'
'This!' said Watashi, dangling a familiar object in front of Drake.
It was a glossy black lozenge which, as it dangled from the slim black chain which sustained it, turned to reveal first a sun then a moon with stars.
'I never stole anything,' said Drake. T got the – the bard thing down in Ling.'
'You not only stole it,' said Watashi. 'You damaged it as well. There's a gouge ripped right through the skin under the sun.'
'That? Man, that's just a nick. Some fellow tried to knife me in Narba.''In Narba?''It's a seaport, down south where-'
T know where Narba is! It was your veracity I was questioning, not your geography.'
'Veracity. Aye. You mean my truth. Didn't think I'd know the word, either, did you? Well, man, it's all true enough. Oh yes, and it's a great tale into the bargain. Sit yourself down, get some wine laid on, and I could keep your ears buzzing for the next sixty years. Aye, truth and wonders, that's what I've seen.'
This offer was meant to be conciliatory. But Watashi was not in a placable mood.'I've no interest in fairy tales,' said he.
