Hugh Cook - The Werewolf and the Wormlord

For a moment, Alfric was almost convinced.

Then he wondered:

Was it true?

Was any of what Xzu was telling him actually true? Furthermore:

Could it be true?

Communications between Galsh Ebrek and Obooloo were slow and tortuous, for the Izdimir Empire had no use of the Door which was located in Obooloo. That Secret was guarded by the Bondsman’s Guild of Obooloo, which was at particular pains to protect its Secret now that Aldarch the Third ruled the Empire. Had Al’three known of the Circle of the Partnership Banks, those Doors which linked places as far apart as Stokos and Chi’ash-lan, he would doubtless have sought to launch himself upon a conquest of the world.

‘I find it hard,’ said Alfric, ‘to know how we can be in communication with Aldarch the Third, unless one is to presume that he has mastered the Secret of the Partnership Banks.’

Xzu looked at him intently.

Then:

‘Izdarbolskobidarbix, my friend,’ said Xzu, ‘I am going to tell you a great secret. The Partnership Banks have given Aldarch the Third limited use of communication facilities routed through the Doors of the Circle.’

‘What!?’

Thus Alfric.

Shocked.

Appalled.

This was the one thing which must never happen! No ruler of empire must ever learn of the existence of the Doors. Otherwise the world would be plunged into a terrifying war as imperial ambition strove to master the Circle.

Xzu smiled.

‘Relax, Iz’bix. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Are you familiar with mediums? I mean, with those charlatans who pretend to communicate with the unborn and the dead at seances?’

‘I have never dabbled in such rubbish,’ said Alfric stiffly.

‘But Aldarch the Third does,’ said Xzu. ‘Through one of his most trusted mediums, he receives intelligence from spies in the World Beyond. He trusts this intelligence, because it regularly proves accurate, at least as far as events in Wen Endex are concerned.’

Alfric frowned.

‘It seems,’ said Alfric, ‘that you are playing a very dangerous game.’

‘Dangerous, yes,’ said Xzu. ‘But very profitable. Aldarch the Third pays highly for the intelligence he receives. Furthermore, even if we wished to avoid the danger, we could not. The Bank in Obooloo came up with this idea, and that Bank has forced this idea upon us. We must co-operate. You know how things are.’

The two men looked at each other.

For a moment, Alfric was almost convinced.

Then:

‘No,’ said Alfric. ‘I don’t believe what you’re telling me.’

‘You don’t? Believe me! It’s all true! Aldarch the Third really does have a medium. He really does believe!’ ‘Perhaps,’ said Alfric. ‘But basic logic tells me it makes no difference to Aldarch the Third whether I sit upon the throne of Wen Endex or whether Ursula Major rules. I am the Wormlord’s grandson. She is the Wormlord’s daughter. We are of the same blood, the same line. If Al’three thinks of us at all, he thinks of us equally as enemies. Surely. Therefore I deduce this to be no decision of the Izdimir Empire. Rather, it is the Bank’s decision. It is not Aldarch the Third who wants to deny me the throne. It is you!’

Alfric had grown heated while making this accusation. But Xzu did not respond with any anger of his own. Instead, he smiled, somewhat sadly.

Then:

‘Izdarbolskobidarbix,’ said Comptroller Xzu, ‘I’m disappointed with you. You are right, of course. Nevertheless, it would have been more diplomatic for you to have gone along with our little fiction. That would have preserved our good relationships, would it not?’

‘So you admit it,’ said Alfric. ‘It is the Bank which wants to deny me the throne.’

‘Is that not our privilege?’ said Xzu. ‘Are you not our creature? Did we not make you? Was it not the Bank which first urged you to quest for the three saga swords? Was it not the Bank which showed you how these swords might be won? Naturally you’re angry. But don’t fool yourself, friend Iz’bix. You didn’t make yourself into a contender for the throne. It was the Bank which made you that.’

‘Indubitably,’ said Alfric coldly. ‘But why the change of heart? Or was the whole thing an empty exercise right from the very beginning? Did you expect me to die on the quests?’

‘No, no, not at all. We did seriously consider making you king. We wanted you to succeed on those quests. But…’

‘But?’

‘But, before allowing you to claim the throne itself, we had to be sure of you. Our decision was that we wanted to test your ability to manipulate the Knights, for such a skill is essential to a king. So we set you a two-fold task. You were first to rouse the Yudonic Knights to action and second to stop them carrying out the very action to which you had roused them.’

‘That put me in a very difficult position,’ said Alfric, struggling to control his temper.

‘Agreed,’ said Xzu. ‘A position which was almost impossible. That was part of the test. We wanted to measure your true loyalties. To the Bank? Or to your family? Unfortunately, you betrayed the Bank. We told you we needed a seven day delay. You denied it to us.’

‘But I killed Herself.’

‘That is neither here nor there,’ said Xzu. ‘The Bank never cared whether She lived or died. What mattered to the Bank was whether you would obey us when we commanded you. That was what the test was all about. As far as the Bank is concerned, you failed the test, for you proved disloyal and disobedient. Therefore we will not have you as king. That is our decision.’

‘The decision is not yours to make,’ said Alfric.

‘Isn’t it?’ said Comptroller Xzu.

‘The Bank does not make or break the kings of Wen Endex,’ said Alfric coldly.

‘Doesn’t it?’ said Xzu. ‘Is that what you really think?’

‘I think,’ said Alfric, ‘that I’m going to find out. One way or another.’

Then he got to his feet and went to the door.

‘Iz’bix.’

Alfric turned.

‘What?’

‘Iz’bix, are you formally resigning from the Bank?’ ‘Are you askin g me to?’ said Alfric.

‘Iz’bix, we’re happy to have you stay. We are disappointed with you. But, as I said before, the Bank is not given to childish vengeance. You do have talent. You can be of great use to us. Your promotion to Banker Second Class is good and valid. In time, you can rise further. But… Alfric… if you strive for the throne then… then we will have to reconsider our position.’

Alfric paused.

‘May I… may I have time to think about it?’ ‘Certainly,’ said Xz u. ‘You’ve been mauled in battle, and you’ve been very ill. Go home, I z’bix. Rest. Sleep. Think it over. Then come back and tell us what you ’ve decided.’

‘I will,’ said Alfric.

But he was lying.

He had already decided that he would strive for the throne, regard less of the consequences.

The only question was:

How?

She was dead.

She would never again haunt the nights of Wen Endex.

With Her death, the Yudonic Knights were no longer governed by their duty to command the night against Her depredations. They were free to reclaim the day.

Butin honour of the fallen king, Ursula Major decreed that the Knights should continue to live by night until she commanded otherwise. Ursula Major further ruled that, as a token of respect to her dead father, no official business would be conducted in Galsh Ebrek until thee nights after the Wormlord’s funeral.

Ursula Major issued these decrees as regent.

A subtle move, this.

No Knight could rightly disobey such commands, for Tromso Stavenger was surely due such honours. Since Ursula Major’s commands were meant to honour the dead, to abandon night for day would be to insult the fallen king; and, likewise, to insist upon certain outstanding administrative matters being settled immediately would also be an insult. No Knight could bring himself to thus profane the dead. Thus the Knights continued to live by night, out of fealty to the deceased Wormlord if for no other reason. And, for like reason, the question of the succession to the throne was left in abeyance for the moment.