The Walrus and the Warwolf

'Then sit down, man. Take a seat – aye, there on the rope, that's comfortable enough. Tell us about it.''And why would you want to hear?' said Drake.

'Why? Well, we'll be tangling with such soon enough, won't we now? It's nice to know what we're up against.'

Drake realized that Ish Ulpin really did want to know. On inquiry, he found that nobody aboard had been further south than Narba. The waters of the Drangsturm Gulf were, to the crew of the Walrus, largely an unknown quantity. So Drake settled himself, and began to tell his tales.

Drake was a good story-teller. Under pressure – with a life to lose if he failed to interest – he became an even better story-teller. Others of the crew gathered round to listen.

One tale led to another, and thus, as the days went by and the ship cruised steadily south, Drake got to know the crew well. Bucks Cat – who proved to be boisterous, good-humoured, intelligent, and perhaps the most competent sailor aboard. Ish Ulpin – who, as Drake had suspected, was a dangerous man, too careless with himself to value others.

Tiki Slooze, a feeble, querulous man who reminded Drake of Jez Glane. Rolf Thelemite, an intense character who claimed to be from the fabled islands of Rovac (claiming, too, that his blade was firelight steel from Stokos – though he never let anyone see it). Simp Fiche, whom Drake had met before – he lived for rape and torture.

And others. Ching Quail, Trudy Haze, Praul Galana, Morton Seligman, and close to three dozen more.

Drake found himself popular. Except with Andranovory. But that drunken bully was scarcely loved by the rest of the crew. Nor was he a match for Drake in a fight.

So far, so good. But what happens when we get to the terror-lands? What happens when we get to the Deep South?

Drake expected at least some men to jump ship when the Walrus reached Narba. But, though all the men got shore leave, none fled. All, it seemed, were ready to brave the terrors of the lands beyond Drangsturm. To do battle with the monsters of the Swarms. To dare the horrors of creatures worse than nightmare. And Drake?

He was fearful. Yet was proud. And fiercely ambitious. He had to survive this test. To win the hand of King Tor's daughter. To win the throne of Stokos. And prove himself equal to the heroes of the Walrus, who faced the prospect of absolute horror with calm – almost, indeed, with indifference. Who would have thought they could be so brave?

They're brave, perhaps, because they think no Swarms exist. Aye. But they do. I've seen them, clear enough. The Neversh – chest to chest. And the other monsters, crowded on the shore.

As the Walrus braved south, Drake developed a nervous tic. He slept poorly – woken often by nightmares. He got acid indigestion. Under the stress of fear, he became irritable, short-tempered. Then at last, by night, he saw the flames of Drangsturm reflected from clouds on the horizon.

Come morning, the Walrus anchored by a small offshore island. A day's sailing – or less – would take them to the shores of terror beyond the protection of Drangsturm.

'What island be this?' said Drake, staring at massive low-slung buildings on the island.

'This is Burntos,' said Bucks Cat. 'Landguard troopers are garrisoned here. They hold the island against any monsters of the Swarms which fly this way.'

'It's a low, barren, ugly place,' said Drake. 'What do we want here? We've food, water – everything but women. Have they a brothel ashore?'

'Not that I know of,' said Bucks Cat. 'But with luck, they've got a monster they can sell us.''Sell us?'said Drake.'But of course. We need a monster to show to Menator.' 'But – but – but we-'

Bucks Cat slapped his thighs, and threw back his head and laughed uproariously.'Oh man!' he said. 'Are you innocent!'' What' s the j oke?' called Praul Galana.

'This young hero here,' said Bucks Cat, pointing at Drake, 'he really thought we were going to hunt the terror-lands f or a monster. Oh man! That' s rich!'

Bucks Cat laughed till tears ran down his face, and others laughed with him.

'But,' said Drake, starting to get angry, 'the day we left Knock, I spoke with the Walrus. He told me true that we were hunting monsters. Aye. He spoke of death and glory.'

'Well, man,' said Bucks Cat, recovering himself a little, 'helikesajoketoo.'

'How did he know of this Burntos place since he's never been this far south?' said Drake.

'Oh, we hear of this place in Narba,' said Bucks Cat. 'It's no secret.'

'Well,' said Drake, 'if you never planned to dare the terror-lands – how come everyone was so hot to hear my stories?'

'Why, for you tell a good tale, and that's reason enough,' said Bucks Cat. 'Besides – we're not home dry, are we? If there's no monster for sale ashore, maybe we will have to hunt one.'

And, thought Drake, maybe, even if they secured a monster, bad weather would see the Walrus endure some adventures as wild as those which had befallen the Warwolf in the waters of the Drangsturm Gulf. Though he had to admit the weather had treated them fair enough so far – the Walrus had had dry skies, hot days and favourable breezes ever since leaving Narba.

Drake was on the first boat which went ashore to Burntos. The others with him were Bucks Cat, Ish Ulpin and Slagger Mulps. In honour of the occasion, the Walrus had shed his sealskins, and had dressed himself in silken robes embroidered with astrological symbols. Drake thought he looked daft – but the green-haired man was obviously very pleased with his appearance.The boat scraped against stones.

Drake jumped into the sea, and helped haul the boat ashore. A single old man was picking his way along the shore, gathering driftwood. Otherwise, nobody was in sight.

'Hey,' yelled Bucks Cat. 'You got any monsters for sale?'

The old man paid them no attention. 'Maybe he speaks no Galish,' said Drake. 'Maybe he's deaf,' said Slagger Mulps. 'Maybe,' said Ish Ulpin, 'selling monsters is against his religion.''Chel!' said Slagger Mulps, meaning 'avanti!'

And led the way toward the low-slung buildings. Massive buildings. Built of huge stone. Slit windows. Strange, narrow doors.

'Drake,' said Slagger Mulps, as they came on the nearest building. 'Inside. Sus it out.'

Drake, with some trepidation, ventured through the narrow door. He found himself in a long, cool, gloomy room. On either side were rows of pallets. On every pallet were identical stacks of folded blankets and folded clothing. At the end of every pallet was a pair of boots. A little dust danced in the shafts of sunlight come through the slit windows.Drake went outside.'Man,' he said, 'this place is for sleeping.'

They explored further. Finally, surmounting a small rise, they gained a view of a huge paved square. Half a thousand men – or were they statues? – were standing there. In rows. Spears in hand. Utterly motionless.'Here's our people,' said Slagger Mulps.'A parade,' said Ish Ulpin.And spat, in disgust.'What are they doing?' said Drake, bewildered.

'Soldier stuff,' said Bucks Cat. 'This is – this is kind of holy. I've seen it in the Rice Empire. We'd better stay clear till they've finished.'Drake watched.Nothing happened.

Were these real soldiers? Impossible! Surely they were statues. Then-

One of the spearmen went down. Crunch. Falling flat on his face on the paving stones. He stayed down. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Shadows shifted slightly as the sun eased itself across the sky. A fly settled on Drake's face and began to feed. He slapped it. Then was embarrassed by the noise. But nobody looked in his direction. A tiny dust-devil whirled across the courtyard, then faded to nothing.The soldier who had collapsed was still flat on his face. 'Craziness,' muttered Drake.And turned away from the parade. If everyone on the island was going to stand paralysed in the sun, maybe this was a good time to go looting. He wandered off amongst the buildings, peering through the slit windows. Eventually, he came upon a kitchen. Inside were upwards of a dozen women, hard at work preparing corn and potatoes for a meal.'Flesh is hope,' said Drake.

And dared himself to the door of the kitchen. Being as attractive to women as he was, with any luck he could chat up one of the ladies and get in a quick one before the soldiers finished their daft parade.

As Drake stepped into the kitchen, the women stopped their work and looked at him. A couple spoke to each other in some foreign tongue, then giggled.'Hi, girls,' said Drake.

As he spoke, a tall red-skinned woman came out of a side room, her arms white to the elbows with flour. She glanced at him indifferently. Was it . . . Zanya? Yes! It was Zanya!'Zanya!' yelled Drake.