'A kind of dog trained for the purpose of rape,' said his mother-in-law, who never admitted ignorance on any subject.
'No, my lord,' said Sken-Pitilkin, who in company with Pelagius Zozimus was attending on this council, and who in the daring of his scholarship was prepared to prosecute the cause of truth even in the face of someone's mother-in-law. 'A bayonet is not a dog. Rather, a bayonet is a species of detachable knife sometimes found attached to a crossbow. It has a blade triangular in section, nicely designed for -
'
'A knife, is it?' said Sham Cham. 'Very well. If the thing be built for buggering, then let the Witchlord prosecute it to its purpose. I will happily accept that as the penalty of failure. But I have no thought to fail. Since the Witchlord will not surrender, we must perforce smash through his army. Smash, storm, shatter, seize the bridge, then push through the forest to Babaroth.'
'In this matter, my lord,' said Pelagius Zozimus, somewhat disturbed by Sham Cham's briskness, 'performance may not be as easy as speech.'
Zozimus had long fancied himself a military expert of sorts, and hence was quicker to put forward his opinion than was Sken-Pitilkin, who ever preferred the conquest of the irregular verbs to any elaborate schemes for the bloodying of bayonets and the heaping up of the dead. However, despite his scholarly proclivities, the sagacious Sken-Pitilkin was far from innocent of the studious organization of institutionalized bloodshed; and, though Sken- Pitilkin ever believed that the proper place for a cook is in the kitchen, he was inclined on this occasion to believe that the slug-chef Zozimus had a keener apprehension of military difficulty than did the revolutionary leader from Locontareth.
'It is true, my lord,' said Sken-Pitilkin. 'Speech is one thing, but performance another. And of the two, performance tends to be the more difficult.'
'Speech!' said Sham Cham. 'You talk of speech? Why, in Locontareth I said I'd raise an army – and having said it, did it.
To speak is to act. Such is politics.'
'To prove speech at swordpoint,' countered Zozimus. 'Such is war.'
'Then let us prove!' said Sham Cham, not acknowledging that he had been countered at all. 'We outnumber our enemies three to one. I would not claim to have mastered all the ingenuities of military science, but nevertheless would think brute force in such proportions to be a sufficient appliance for victory.'
'My lord,' said Sken-Pitilkin, seeing that Zozimus was in need of his support. 'I have long studied – '
'Then study some more!' retorted Sham Cham. 'But study elsewhere, and in silence. I take no hectoring from pedagogs.'
Sham Cham's earlier doubt was a thing of the past, and now he was resolved upon battle and victory. Or perhaps – there are people whose character is so constituted – his doubt was so great that he durst not admit to the slightest deviance from his chosen course. For often it is the man who is most frightened who is most resolute in action, for he knows that to reconsider will necessarily be to panic, and that to panic is to fail.
'Your wisdom is great, my lord,' said Zozimus, 'for Sken Pitilkin knows more of losing wars than winning them.'
A monstrous slander, this! And – insult upon insult! – a slander which Sham Cham greeted with an approving smile. 'Still,' said Zozimus, in his most conciliatory tones, 'my lord, to cross a river against the armed opposition of one's enemies is ever one of the harder exercises of war, and to force a way to Babaroth we must necessarily brute our way across the Pig.'
'I have heard,' said Sham Cham, 'that the Pig is a very torrent of destruction in the spring, but that the river lies slumped in its shallows in the heat of high summer. It is the heat of high summer now.'
'So it is, my lord,' said Zozimus, 'but the shallows of the river lie slumped between the steepness of its northern bank and the southern. The steepness of those banks gives the enemy considerable opportunity for defense.'
'Still,' said Sham Cham, 'I am sure I can force a passage across the river, even if our enemies should burn the bridge.'
'Then, my lord,' said Zozimus, 'having crossed the river, we should still have to fight our way through the forest which lies north of the river.'
'That is what I am here for,' said Sham Cham, a trifle impatiently. 'To fight my enemies.'
'True, my lord,' said Zozimus, the velocity of his speech evidencing impatient exasperation. 'To fight, yes, war is fighting, but only a boy would think it nothing but. War for men is equally a matter of choice and timing. I as a veteran bloody in my swordplay would choose to fight the Witchlord at the city.'
'The city?' said Sham Cham, quite confused by the rapidity of Zozimus's speech, which typically became nearly indecipherable in its speed when its temper was threatening to lose itself.
'Babaroth is no city. It is but a town.'
Sham Cham spoke in truth, for of course Babaroth was no more than a town – a town built on a small hill on the eastern shores of the Yolantarath, some two leagues upstream from the confluence of the Yolantarath and the Pig.
'The city which I had in mind,' said Zozimus, 'is the city of Gendormargensis.'
Then Zozimus outlined his plan. The wizard proposed that they retreat; and construct rafts; and ferry their army to the western shores of the Yolantarath under cover of night; and then march on Gendormargensis, leaving the Witchlord in his ignorance to stab at shadows and grope at dust.
'This plan is a nonsense,' said Sham Cham. 'As I have said already, our business is not with the capital but with the emperor.'
Sham Cham's intransigence dismayed the wizards. For the conquest of Gendormargensis would win them gold with which to pay soldiers; a population from which troops could be recruited; a fortified city from which to stand off their enemies; and a semblance of absolute victory, which would surely discourage and dismay those enemies.
Pelagius Zozimus said as much.
But was not believed.
'Gendormargensis is but a diversion from our business,' said Sham Cham. 'Our business is to smash the emperor in battle. When you say otherwise, I think you fearful of meeting this Thodric Jarl in battle. I think you have a pronounced over-respect of the
Rovac.' Sken-Pitilkin endeavored to support Zozimus in his wisdom.
'My lord,' said Sken-Pitilkin, 'in Gendormargensis – '
'In Gendormargensis,' said Sham Cham, interrupting the scholar, 'the dralkosh Bao Gahai awaits her enemies.'
'Why, yes, yes, so she does,' said Pelagius Zozimus, 'surely, yet she is but a witch, and the killing of a witch is no big matter for either man or wizard.'
Though both Zozimus and Sken-Pitilkin had from time to time taken the part of witches in the past – Sken- Pitilkin out of mercy, and Zozimus for reasons of unscrupulous ambition – neither placed any value on Bao Gahai's personal survival.
'The wizards of Argan,' said Zozimus, 'long ago disposed of most witches in a mighty pogrom. As a sometime member of Argan's Confederation of Wizards, let me assure you of the extreme limitations of the Witchwoman breed.'
'So Bao Gahai survived pogrom, did she?' said Sham Cham.
'She did,' affirmed Zozimus.
'Then,' said Sham Cham, 'clearly she is mightier than all your wizards federated in their anger!'
Thus did Sham Cham make clear his mortal terror of the dralkosh Bao Gahai, a terror which had conditioned all his thinking about the current campaign. Sken-Pitilkin found this terror quite extraordinary. After all, it is usual for people to fear what is near and discount what is distant, yet in Sham Cham's case things were quite the reverse – and, when put to the question, the leader of the tax revolt declared he would rather face an army than a witch.
'Well,' said Sken-Pitilkin, 'supposing you defeat Lord Onosh here and now, what say Bao Gahai marches forth against you? You see? One way or the other, you're doomed to face your greatest fear before you're finished.'
