The Walrus and the Warwolf

'Man, then I'll tell you none,' said Drake, 'for I've never seen a fairy. But I've seen elves, aye, elves with handfuls of legs apiece on a flying island. And a dwarf, yes, right recent. Down at the Eagle, in fact. A friend of mine stepped on him.'

'That was my dwarf!' shouted Watashi. 'His name's Glambrax. You cracked his ribs!'

'Man, no need to shout,' said Drake. T can hear you from here. Anyway, it wasn't me that stepped on him. And cracked ribs heal up nice enough. Why, I got me ribs bust in a fight I could tell you about, a regular scramble it was, epic, aye, like those wars of the ancients. Why-''Enough of your nonsense,' said Watashi. 'Look here!'

And he snapped his fingers to summon a servant, who displayed a shield for Drake's inspection. On it was emblazoned a black rustre, with a crescent moon and seven stars arranged on the surrounding red.'What is it?' said Drake.

'It's a coat of arms, made for me last year. And proof that the bard was mine!'

'I got the amulet in Ling,' insisted Drake. 'There were dozens of them, each like to each as so many glips.''Glips?' said Watashi, who knew not that Orfus word.

'Aye. Little silver fish, a fingerlength each. Man, they'd look right handsome on your coat of arms, one chasing each of those seven fancy stars.'This suggestion was not well received.'I paid fifty skilders for that bard!' said Watashi.

'Well then, I'd like a cut of that money. Because it was likely stolen property you were paying out for. My property! Won with great cost in Ling, aye, fights with metal and all. Then stolen from me in Narba, yes, by some villainous pirates or such in a bar.'

'Enough of your cheek,' said Watashi. 'Some papers went missing when this bard was stolen. Very important papers. I want them back!'

'Man, I can't read nor write. What would I want with papers?'

'To sell them to the Regency, perhaps,' said Watashi. 'Give me the truth! Who was with you? Where did the papers go? Answer, or I'll choke the life out of you!'

'You won't get many answers from a choked-dead man,' said Drake.

'No, but I'd get a lot of satisfaction,' said Watashi, something ugly in his voice. This was getting serious.

'I want alawyer,' said Drake, who had fond memories of the games he had played with the City Fathers in Runcorn when the formidable Garimanthea had been in support.'A what?'

'A lawyer! Aye, then we'll have some fun. Aye, injunctions and mandamuses to start with. Then worse! Court costs and colloquy and such.'

'What are you talking about?' said Watashi, to whom these threats – couched as they were in an obscure variant of Galish especially invented for the law courts of Runcorn – were completely unintelligible.

'I'm talking about a quo warranto, to start with,' said Drake, getting excited, already imagining the looks of anxiety, contrition and terror which the right lawyer would bring to Watashi's face.'A what?'

' It means you have to prove yourself out as the prince you claim to be. Aye, then there's a better writ, I forget the name of it, which means you have to prove you exist at all. Oh, that can be a tricky one!'

'You seriously mean to try to bring me to courts?' said Watashi, incredulously, as he began to understand Drake's intent. T don't grabble in the courts with the common crowd! Take him away and interrogate him for the truth!'And Drake was dragged away by Watashi's guards.

Drake started shouting about civil liberties and Habeas Corpus. So the guards, knowing full well that Watashi's detention of Drake was in law no more than a kidnapping, gagged him lest someone should hear.

'Don't try anything stupid,' said Thodric Jarl, warrior of

Rovac and bodyguard to Watashi. 'Most of all, don't try to escape. For if you get out of here, the Mucks will catch you in the city. Then, if rumour's only half-way true, they'll skin you alive and strangle you with your own intestines.'

'Mmf eph gumph,' said Drake, speaking as best he could with a gag in his mouth.

But Thodric Jarl made no effort to remove Drake's gag, guessing that the angry young man was only trying to give voice to some obscenities which he knew well enough already, thank you very much.In fact, Drake was trying to say:'I can't breathe! I can't breathe!'

But he was still alive by the time they reached Watashi's very private torture chamber.

47

Morgan Hearst: one of the leaders of a band of questing heroes which had several interesting adventures with dragons, wizards and magic before mutiny split their ranks. While Hearst and others continued the quest, the mutineers – including Andranovory, Erhed and others – came down the Velvet River through Chenameg to Selzirk.

Watashi's private torture chamber was a soundproof room containing a narrow wooden bench, which bore a number of ominous russet stains, and many ugly implements of iron. Drake did his thinking – and fast. Clearly, posing as an innocent peddler was not going to save him. He would lose one or more bits of himself unless he did something drastic – and fast.Ungagged, Drake spoke quickly:

'Man, before we go much further, there's something you ought to know.''What's that?' said Jarl.'Man, I'm not a peddler at all,' said Drake.

'I didn't for a moment think that you were,' said Jarl. 'What are you then?''I'm an ambassador. From King Tor.''Tor?' said Jarl, blankly.

'Aye, man! Rightful king of Stokos! He's giving your troops a hell of a battering right now, in Hok.' 'Is he?' said Jarl, with indifference. 'There's more,' babbled Drake. 'Tor has promised me

his daughter's hand in marriage. That makes me rightful heir to Stokos. Don't you understand? That makes me an enemy of the Harvest Plains. You turn me over to the law courts, you'll be famous. Aye. They'll put me on trial, I'll get chopped to pieces, and you'll be a hero.'

'Bullshit,' said Jarl. 'The most bullshit I've ever heard in my life.''Why would I say it unless it was true?' said Drake.

'For you're the type who makes unlimited trouble once you get hold of a lawyer,' said Jarl. 'I know your sort! Haul you into a court of law and you prove immortal! Well, you '11 not prove immortal here, I'd swear my life to that.'

Jarl's analysis was fairly accurate. Drake was no stranger to argument. He had lost count of the number of trials he had attended – manyofthemhisown.He'dbeenontrialforhis life in places as far apart as the Iron Palace of Cam and the Castle of Controlling Power. He'd faced Jon Arabin's kind of justice on the deck of the Warwolf,ioo. He'd rather be in a court of law than a torture chamber any day of the year.

'Man,' said Drake, 'this war in Hok threatens the very life of the Harvest Plains. You could use me as a hostage, aye, there's a thought, send messengers into Hok to see if Tor wants to buy me. That way you could buy peace.'

'Selzirk cares nothing for Hok,' said Jarl. 'A few soldiers chasing bandits in the hills – what's that to the city? Nothing!'T'ma-'

'Shut up!'.said Jarl. 'Whatever you mean to Tor or Stokos, that's nothing to Selzirk. Only a mad ego could make you think yourself that important.'

'Oh,' said Drake, 'sol'mof no importance. Is that right! Then how about letting me out of here?'

'Tell me who helped you steal the bard and you can go,' said Jarl.

'I'd tell if I knew but I don't!' shouted Drake. 'Don't you understand that?'' Strap him down!' said Jarl. His men moved to obey.

'You'll get nothing out of me,' said Drake, as he was strapped to the torture bench. 'Never!''Cut off his feet,' said Jarl, curtly.

'No!' screamed Drake, as a man applied saw to ankle. 'No, no, I confess, I did it, I'll tell anything, everything.'The sawman paused.'Who was with you then?' said Jarl.

'Andranovory,' said Drake. 'We talked it up together. Him and me. And Erhed, yes, Erhed, that's the one,