'You cannot,' said Plovey, running a gentle hand over the nape of Drake's neck. Smiling. Sweetly. 'You cannot prove your story, for that's all it is. A story. Nonsense about flying ships and sea serpents. What we want, my dear, is the truth. That's all.'
'Would you like my body?' asked Drake, hoping desperately. 'We could come to a very nice arrangement.'
'Ah, darling boy!' said Plovey. T regret to say I have never been able to conjure up a lust for male flesh. So many opportunities lost! Yet the sad truth is, I like women only. I'm married to one. She satisfies my needs entirely.'
'Then tell me tell me tell me,' said Drake. 'Please, please, for the love of mercy, tell me what the others are saying, so I can say it too. I only want to please. For the love of mercy, tell!'
'I love not mercy,' said Plovey, making ready to leave. 'Only justice. Be assured, dear boy, that everything done to you here is entirely legal. Torture is an acknowledged road to truth, and we will follow that road until we get the truth.'
He left, humming to himself, ease in his stride and confidence in his carriage.
The next day, Drake was strapped down for torture as per usual, but there was a change in the normal routine. For, instead of his usual interrogators, in came Thodric Jarl.
'They've brought me in on the case because they said you were proving hard to break,' said Jarl. 'I'm sure we can soon change that. Cut off his feet!'And a minion set saw to ankles.
'Stop! Stop!' screamed Drake. 'I'll tell, I'll tell, anything, everything.'
'Oh, we've heard that before,' said Jarl. 'This time we're going to cut your feet off to show you we mean business. Then we can start thinking about serious torture.'Jarl nodded to the man with the saw.The blade ripped into Drake's flesh.Drake screamed. Then:'Stop!'cried a voice.
It was Plovey, from the Regency. Rescue! Yes, Drake was sure of it. Just from the look in Plovey's eyes he knew. The man had come with news which would save him.
'Why are you interfering?' asked Jarl. 'We were near to breaking him.'
'I'm interfering,' said Plovey, in excitement, 'because his story may well be true. Let him loose! Bandage his wounds!'
So Drake was released, and bandages put on his ankles, where the saw had cut through his thin shin-flesh right down to the bone. Then he was led from the torture chamber to another place entirely, a long hall lined with tapestries. Many men stood on either side.
' Walk down the hall, dear boy,' said Plovey.' Walk down the hall, looking to left and to right. Stop when you see someone you know.''Very well,' said Drake.
He walked. Looking to left and to right. So many men. How normal they looked! Neat beards, clean clothes, well-fed faces. As if the whole world was not a rolling nightmare but a place where decent folk could live decent lives untroubled. Aye. Well. Perhaps, from their point of view. . .
Inthathall, amongst so many people, Drake felt the desolation of utter loneliness. None of these people cared for him. He meant nothing to them. He experienced a surge of nostalgia for his time in the Collosnon prison pit on the island of Chag-jalak, when he had shared food with Whale Mike, Salaman Meerkat and all those others .Aye. Ish Ulpin with his walnuts. Jon Disaster and the orange. Harly Burpskin, dragging out that great wodge of salami.
'I'll kill you!' said Andranovory, who did not try to do any such thing since he was standing between two soldiers. 'A traitor twice!'
'Betrayed you?' said Drake. 'Man, you and your stories got me into so much trouble-' 'There was Burntos-' 'At Burntos-'
'Now now,' said Plovey, in soothing tones. 'Come along, we've business to attend to.'
And on down the hall they went, until Drake stopped again.
'This,' said Drake, 'is Melf Keif, the burlesque actor from the Harlequin Theatre.'
'Why, so it is,' said Plovey. 'It's months since I've been: I must go again. Come along now, he's not the man we're interested in.'
'Who are we interested in, then?' said Drake. 'And where do all these people come from?'
'Most of these people are tax defaulters,' said Plovey. 'We use them for . . . for what we do in this hall. It's part of their punishment for them to thus part with their time. Andranovory – why, he was just there for my own amusement. But the people we're really interested in – why, march on, and keep your eyes about you. You'll see.'
And on down the hall they went. Drake wondered what the hell was going on in this hall. He still didn't understand. Maybe he should think it through. But he was so worn, so tired. Shattered. Aye. Like a cracked-up statue just ready to fall into pieces. A friend. If only a friend-But-Who was that? Was it. . .? Yes, it was!
'Jon!' cried Drake. 'Jon Arabin! Oh Jon, man, it's sweet to see you! You've saved me, Jon!'
And, crying out thus, he ran in delight to the man he had recognized. It was indeed Jon Arabin, the Warwolf himself. Who would make everything all right. Who would tell Plovey it was all true, everything Drake said, he meant to tell the truth, he wanted to tell truths, had told them.
'Jon!' said Drake, joyfully. 'How did you get here? You've saved my life!'
'If I've saved yours then you've cost me mine,' said Arabin heavily. 'I had them half-way convinced I was a Galish merchant until you came in.'
Drake, shocked, stepped back. His face seemed to wreck itself. His mouth crumpled into misery. He moaned. Next moment, he was weeping.
'You weren't to know,' said Arabin. 'You weren't to know.'
And he stepped forward, meaning to embrace Drake. But guards grabbed Arabin, and other guards grabbed Drake. Both struggled as Jon Arabin was marched away.Plovey put a hand on Drake's shoulder.
'That's good,' said Plovey. 'That's good. You've proved our prisoner to be the man we thought he was. You've also proved your story.'
'You bastard!' sobbed Drake. 'You filthy bastard! You made me betray my best friend!'
'I,' said Plovey, smoothly, sadly, 'am but a servant of the law. You've proved your story – is that not something? Come, walk on. The game's not finished.'
'I'll not hunt out anyone else for you,' said Drake. 'I'd rather die!'
'Nevertheless,' said Plovey, 'walk on down the hall. Walking can do no harm, can it? Come now, darling boy – proceed. Or would you rather be dragged?'Drake proceeded.
And, while he had thought he would betray no others to Plovey, suddenly he saw a familiar face, a green- haired green-bearded green-eyed face belonging to a gangling man with extra-long arms, each arm ending in a double-thumbed fist.
'You!' said Drake, jabbing a finger at the Walrus as if to kill him. T know who you are, standing there so sweet and innocent!'
'Who is it, darling boy?' said Plovey, in a voice sweet with the melody of triumph.
'It's Slagger Mulps, the Walrus himself,' said Drake. 'You know him from the truths I've told you. Aye. It's all down on paper. A cruel man, aye. Gave me to Andranovory when I first became his prisoner. Aye. Then An'vory hung me from my ankles by way of torture when I wouldn't give him a suck.'
'Drake!' said the Walrus, with grief in his voice. 'Don't speak against me as an enemy! What's past is past! I took you south with me to Burntos, didn't I? You stowed away, yet I let you live.'
'Aye, and challenged me to death when I got back to the Teeth,' said Drake. 'Then made that mad challenge with Jon Arabin in the forest of Penvash. A lot of trouble that caused, too! But, man, I'd pardon you for that, except for one thing. You're the enemy. Jon Arabin's enemy. And any enemy of his is a mortal foe of mine. If he's to die, then so should you.'
'Man,' said the Walrus. 'You've got things wrong, for things have changed. I'm now his blood-brother true.'
Thus Drake was a second time dismayed. And his discomfort increased when the Walrus, overcome with sorrow and the fear of death, went down on his knees, sobbing.
'Come,' said Plovey. 'No need to listen to that. We're finished.'
