The Walrus and the Warwolf

But Watashi was not as credulous as the guard Drake had frightened earlier, and Drake's swift-flowing horror-talk was cut short by Hearst.

'Business,' said Hearst. 'Elkor Alish is playing a trick with this fellow. A trick he learnt from Selzirk. He holds two of the man's friends as hostage, requiring, for their release, proof of delivery of two letters.''How does that concern me?' said Watashi.

'One of those proofs must come from me,' said Hearst. 'But the other needs come from you.'

'I give no proofs to this thieving whoreson bastard,' said Watashi.

'You will give proofs,' said Hearst, waving a letter, 'or I will give this document to the Regency.' 'What says it?'

'This letter from Alish to you invites you to join with him in making war on the Regency and installing yourself as emperor of the Harvest Plains.'

'That speaks of no crime on my part,' said Watashi. 'It's no crime to be made an offer, no matter how criminal. Crime lies only in the acceptance, which I'd never make – and which none could prove against me.'

'I know little of the filthy politics of this city,' said Hearst, 'but I'm sure your Regency would make great play of this letter. You might win clear to freedom, for sure – but is it not better to give the man his proofs, and avoid all chance of such embarrassment?''Why do you take his part?' said Watashi.

'Honour acts,' said Hearst. 'It does me no harm to give proof to Elkor Alish that I have seen his letter, and thus release two men held hostage.''No harm? Such proof might see one hanged!'

'No,' said Hearst. 'For I will simply date a piece of parchment, write on it that the petition of Drake Douay has been refused, then sign it. That will be proof enough. You will do the same. You cannot be hung, young lordling, for refusing an unspecified petition. That's no crime I know of in any law.'

Watashi, grudgingly, did as Hearst obliged him to. Then Hearst dismissed him.

'So,' said Hearst, holding up two pieces of parchment, 'you have your proofs. Satisfied?'

'I'd be more satisfied if they could be delivered,' said Drake boldly. 'For I've no wish to leave Selzirk. There's a lady I wish to claim, aye, first for love, and second to spite the senile old whoremaster who holds her captive. Have you couriers to Runcorn?'

'None,' said Hearst. 'But such I can find. I'll see your proofs get through.'

Then Hearst dismissed Drake, and dismissed the whole queue of petitioners as well. For he wanted to be alone, so he could think over the letter which Alish had written to him.

But what was in that letter, and what Hearst made of it, and what he did as a result . . . those things were of no concern to Drake Douay, who had other business on his mind.

Zanya, my heart, me dearest princess. Despair not! 'Tis I, the lordly young Dreldragon, who rides even now to the rescue! I will fight to thy dungeon and free thee from the fiend. Even if I must slay a watermelon stand to do so!

52

Law. the rule of past over present, the dead over the living, precedent over pure reason, syntax over sense and of absurd fictions over urgent realities.

Drake the Doughty, rightful king of Stokos (with Tor dead, who had a better claim?), questing hero extraordinary, star of the Great Arena in Dalar ken Halvar, cocksman and shivman both, thought himself safe enough when he went in pursuit of the red-skinned Zanya Kliedervaust. After all, he had received a full pardon for all crimes he had committed, both in and out of Selzirk. Thus he was safe from the law – or thought he was. And he was confident he could deal with Gouda Muck and his bully boys.

In Jone, Drake found many of his former friends, and persuaded them to come to Santrim with him for a bit of fun. They fronted up to Libernek Square, where Muck was preaching to the usual jeering crowd. Drake, safe with his comrades to support him, slanged off at Muck, and called on him to yield up the fair lady Zanya.

Muck had no dogs, crocodiles or watermelon stands which he could set upon Drake Douay, so sent his Flame-clad stave men to do battle with the questing hero. The crowd joined the fight – on Drake's side – and Muck's men had to beat a hasty retreat.The next day, Drake returned.

'Send out your bravos!' he bawled, brandishing a knife. 'I've sworn to take five scalps by sundown!'

When nobody came forth from Muck's temple to do battle, Drake and his colleague sang scatological songs in three-part harmony. The crowd joined in. The next day, Drake returned again. He found the crowd larger, more enthusiastic. Great stuff!

'Come out, Muck!' yelled Drake. 'Or I'll storm your gates!'

Muck stayed out of sight, and Drake judged that the crowd was not quite yet ready to take Muck's temple by force.

Tomorrow, maybe. We'll see. A riotous mob, that's the thing!

The fourth day, Drake fronted up for further fun – and was arrested by the Watch. And the day after, he was hauled into the New Courthouse to hear the charges Gouda Muck had preferred against him. The trial came up so quickly because the general pardon, given to celebrate the liberation of Androlmarphos, had cleared the backlog of the courts entirely.

Drake was brought in front of Judge Syrphus, who held court in the traditional glory which tradition decreed for a person in his position. Thanks to tradition, Judge Syrphus wore uncured goatskins and a feathered head-dress, sat on a throne made from the bones of traitors, and wore heavy gold bracelets littered with garnets and bits of black glass.

The proceedings were in the Churl of the Harvest Plains (not High Churl or City Churl or Field Churl, but Legal Churl, which took a good five years for the brightest brains to master) and were translated into Galish for Drake's benefit.

'Are you Drake Douay, runaway swordsmith's apprentice of Stokos?' he was asked by the Clerk of the Court.

'Yes,' he said, fearlessly. 'And you've no jurisdiction over Stokos, so let's hear nothing about running away, aye, or thieving masterswords, or hacking up royal trees or any other such nonsense. Aye, and while we're at it, I've got a pardon for all crimes I might have done in or out of Selzirk – not that I'm admitting any, mind – and here's the document itself. Not that I can read it, but the wise, who ought to know, say it's a pretty enough bit of paper.'

This resulted in some colloquy, after which Drake was told:

'The Court is aware of your pardon, but it has no relevance to this case. In this case, the Court is being asked to subject you to preventive detention on the grounds that you are a public menace. You can be perfectly innocent of all crime yet still be a public menace. So the pardon does you no good.'

'So you're putting me on trial for things I've never done and maybe never will do.''Precisely.''Then I'll have a lawyer, thanks.' 'What money have you?' 'None.'

'Then you get no lawyer. Call the first witness for the prosecution!'

The witness was called. Into court he came. Gouda Muck! There followed several exchanges between Drake and Muck. They swore, cursed and damned each other, engaged in the wildest insults and used the most shameless, filthy language. Fortunately, they did all this in Ligin, which nobody else in the Court could understand.

Drake Douay and Gouda Muck were, with difficulty, called to order. Then Muck was introduced to the Court as a master swordsmith and a peaceful minister of religion.

'Do you recognize anyone in the Court?' asked the prosecutor.

'Why, yes,' answered Gouda Muck. 'The man in the dock. I know him as Drake Douay. He was my apprentice on Stokos, until he ran away some four or five years ago.''When did you see him next?''In Runcorn.'

'Runcorn? What was he doing?' 'He ruled the place. He'd founded a truly monstrous religion. I hold a copy of the doctrines of that religion.

This document is The Book of Witness. Know that Drake Douay was at this time going under the name of Arabin lol Arabin.'

After Muck had been questioned further, The Book of Witness was read into the