There was in fact every reason for the most urgent hurry imaginable. But, by insisting on this delay, Jarl was putting pressure on Sarazin. Jarl suspected – rightly! – that Sarazin was withholding important information. With enough pressure, Sarazin would crack.
'So,' said Sarazin, taking a deep breath, 'we wait, then.' And the two glared at each other.
Sarazin suspected – and he was of course correct in his suspicion – that Jarl suspected Sarazin of holding out on him. Moreover, Sarazin suspected that Jarl suspected Sarazin of suspecting Jarl of such suspicion.
'While we wait,' said Sarazin, 'how about telling me the thief's name? Is it anyone we know?' 'No,' said Jarl. 'He's Drake Douay. Nobody I know.' 'Nobody I know either,' said Sarazin.
When he finally fell asleep, he dreamt of this Drake Douay who was now his enemy. The thief who had made off with his bard, unique treasure of Untunchilamon. And with his prophetic book, his documents
… and his enchanted valuables.
'Douay,' said Sarazin, in his dreams, 'when we meet, you die.'
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Drake Douay: a man arrested by the Watch after a brawl in Libernek Square, and subsequently found to be wearing a piece of jewellery which his captors recognised as Sarazin's bard.
After Drake Douay had been in captivity for three days, Jarl concluded that Sarazin was not going to crack and confess whatever secrets he was hiding. By this time, Jarl was near cracking himself, for every day's delay increased their danger.
So Jarl had the thief Douay brought to Farfalla's palace. Jarl and Sarazin dressed up in their most impressive costumes – princely silks for Sarazin and ornate armour for Jarl – and, after letting Douay stew for a while, proceeded with the interrogation.
Sarazin had imagined that Douay would be a dark and dirty inarticulate thief with a scowling mien. Instead, Douay proved to be blond and dirty. And young, smooth- tongued and as cocky as they come. Both Jarl and Sarazin were infuriated by his attitude.
Douay seemed completely unaware of the enormity of his crime. Worse, at first he refused to confess his guilt, and told the most absurd lies. The young punk claimed, for example, that he had once won dozens of bards by fighting in some place called Ling. Of course Sarazin was not fooled by such a tale for even a moment, for he had learnt from Epelthin Elkin himself that the bard was a unique object, there being only one in all the world. Two things in particular annoyed Sarazin.
First, that Douay had managed to damage the bard in the short time it had been in his possession. There was a gouge ripped through the skin of the precious thing, suggesting the punk Douay had tried to cut it open to see what was within.
Second, that Douay had not the slightest idea who Sarazin was. Sarazin's dearest wish was to have his battle-name, 'Watashi', on the lips of every citizen of the Harvest Plains. But to Douay the name appeared to mean nothing. The fact that the Watch had reported that Douay was also ignorant of Farfalla's existence was scant consolation.
Eventually, after a most unsatisfactory interview, Douay was gagged and taken to an abandoned store room. Over the last three days, this had been converted into a horror house. Many ugly instruments of iron had been gathered together; a torture bench had been installed; and Jarl had slaughtered a chicken in the room to make sure it was suitably blood-bespattered.
Sarazin did not follow Douay to the torture chamber. To tell the truth, despite his anger Sarazin was somewhat fearful of what might happen in that ugly room. Torture was an acknowledged road to the truth, of course, and was much used by Selzirk's judicial system. Even so… somehow Sarazin did not like the idea.
However, nothing dreadful happened inside the torture chamber. Once Douay was ungagged he started talking very, very quickly. Then, as soon as a saw was applied to his ankles, he screamed – and confessed. According to Douay, Sarazin's quarters had been burgled by criminals from Jone. Douay named and described the ringleaders – and said where they could be found.
Whereupon Jarl had Douay thrown into solitary confine- ment, conferred briefly with Sarazin, then organised a raiding party to capture those ringleaders and bring them in for interrogation.
Jarl's raiding party left for Jone at nightfall. Sarazin waited anxiously for the raiders to return. He waited for a long time. What could be keeping them?
Sarazin doubted that anything serious could have hap- pened to Jarl, and suspected the Rovac warrior had faked a delay simply to put more pressure on Sean Sarazin.
– He'll play head games till I crack and tell all. Well, let him! For I won't crack!
Jarl knew Sarazin had a secret, but had no idea what it was. And could not possibly guess.
– But what if Douay gets tortured more? What if he tells of the bottle, the ring, the candle? Well, let him. Mention of such means nothing to anyone ignorant of the magic of such things.
Surely everything stolen from Sarazin would eventually be recovered? His prophetic book, his documents and his enchanted objects. It would then be a delicate job to regain possession of his magic without anyone else realising it was magic…
– I'll say those things have sentimental value. That'll do it. If only… if only I could get the truth from Douay myself.
Unfortunately that was impossible. Sarazin could not steal Douay away and torture him for the full truth in private, because Sarazin commanded no men in his own right. He had to work through Jarl. Which, since he was playing a double game, was perilous indeed.
At last, some time after midnight, Sarazin gave up waiting, and went to sleep.
'What do you want?' said Sarazin, groggy with sleep. 'Your mother wants to see you,' said Bizzie. 'Now? Is she crazy?' 'Thodric Jarl has been arrested.' 'What?!' said Sarazin, now very much awake.
Very shortly, he was in his mother's High Court, hearing the dreadful truth.
Thodric Jarl had taken a dozen men on a raiding mis- sion into Jone. They had captured two of Douay's criminal confederates, had put them into sacks, had thrown the sacks onto a dung cart, and had started the return journey from Jone to Santrim. But in Kesh they had been ambushed by some of their captives' gangster friends.
Unfortunately, the gate-tower at Kesh was not controlled by the Watch but by the army. Soldiers had broken up the fight, and had taken Jarl and his men prisoner.
'Shortly,' said Farfalla, with grim satisfaction, 'they will doubtless be tortured by judicial order. Then the truth will come out. All of it.' 'What truth?' said Sarazin.
'Don't play innocent with me!' thundered Farfalla. 'I know you've been playing games of treason and con- spiracy. Plovey knows too. I've called him to a conference. He'll be here soon.' 'Plovey!' said Sarazin.
He looked around wildly. There was no escape. Farfalla's guards would cut him down if he tried to flee.
'Calm down!' said Farfalla. 'I'm not betraying you. I'm trying to save your neck – and Jarl's. So tell me what you know. Everything!'
Sarazin prevaricated, but Farfalla soon had the truth out of him – or at least a part of the truth. He denied taking part in a conspiracy, but admitted that he had had some potentially incriminating documents in his possession. That these documents had been stolen. That one of the thieves, Douay, was a prisoner in Farfalla's palace at this very moment. And that Jarl had gone hunting for Douay's confederates.
In due course, Plovey arrived, and Farfalla went to work. Sarazin learnt a lot that night about negotiations – negotiations of the toughest kind imaginable. Talk was still going on after sunup. In the end, a deal was struck.
As things stood, Plovey was due to go on trial on a charge of forging a warrant, a charge of false arrest and three dozen associated charges relating to assorted technical infringements of the law. If these matters came to court, Plovey would likely be found guilty and be executed.
So: charges against Plovey would be dropped, and, in return, there would be no charges laid against Jarl or any of his men. Farfalla and Plovey, working in concert, could easily arrange this. 'You agree?' said Farfalla to Sarazin.
