Hugh Cook - The Werewolf and the Wormlord

‘So She was,’ said Ursula. ‘That was Her purpose. To stalk the nig ht and kill. To be a thing of terror. A thing to make hideous all beyo nd our walls. You understand?’ ‘No,’ said Alfric.

‘Of course you don’t understand,’ said Ursula scornfully. ‘But it is true. She did us a great service. She bound all of Wen Endex in a great alliance. Thanks to Her, the commoners ever found the swords of the Yudonic Knights a welcome asset rather than an irksome imposition. By killing as She did, She made our people see the ruling hierarchy as a chivalrous and self-sacrifidng order, as an asset rather than a burdensome ruling class.’ ‘You seem to be accusing me,’ said Alfric, ‘of stirring up revolution.’

‘Your actions, witted or witless, present us with that possibility,’ said Ursula.

‘I do not believe for one moment that there will be a revolution.’

‘Of course there will be no revolution,’ said Ursula. ‘For we will do what we must to prevent it. She helped secure our ruling order, and could help us yet; therefore, we will reinvent Her. As for the dragon, why, no doubt we can get another one, somewhere. In due course, we can also assist the swamp giant and the vampires to recover their reputations.’

‘You’re mad,’ said Alfric, in disbelief.

‘No,’ said Ursula. ‘I am not mad. I am simply better educated than yourself. You think yourself a coldblooded banker, whereas in fact you see the world through a haze of romance. Your vision of power is blurred by the glamorous impracticalities of legend and myth. You still think that power exists as a service to the people. In this you are a child.’ ‘For what then does power exist?’ said Alfric.

‘To serve itself,’ answered Ursula Major.

Alfric looked around at the silent assembly.

‘You dare say that?’ said he. ‘Here? In front of witnesses?’

‘All those here today are gathered together in an alliance of power,’ said Ursula Major. ‘In other times it may be politic to speak with greater circumspection. But today, this once, we can indulge ourselves in the truth.’

So she spoke. Then studied Alfric with a cold calculation which made him suddenly afraid, terribly afraid. She had planned his doom; he was sure of it. Her speech was just a preface to his death, or — or to something worse.

He had thought to come here to throw her off her throne, to dismiss her with a word. He must have been mad. Completely deluded. He should have fled from Wen Endex immediately after his father’s funeral. He would have been safer in Obooloo than here.

Suddenly, Ursula Major smiled.

Was Alfric reprieved?

No!

For Ursula said:

‘You are a criminal, for you have wilfully destroyed state assets to further your own ambition, and you have led an old and senile man to a hideous death. This amounts to treason. Therefore we pronounce your doom. You are guilty of treason. Therefore, you must die.’

That proved what Alfric had already guessed: he had hopelessly misjudged the situation.

Alfric had guessed that Ursula Major was prepared to destroy him, but not that she was ready to do so in public view. He had expected backstreet murder, knives in the dark, arson, poison, arrows fired from the shadows. He had feared death at the hands of Ciranoush Zaxilian Nom. But not this! Not a formal condemnation from the throne.

‘But,’ continued Ursula Major, ‘while you must die, we do give you the chance to die as a Yudonic Knight. If you wish, you can seek to prove your innocence by trial by combat. If you do not wish to be dragged away by the executioner, then you can seek to prove your innocence in challenge against this hall.’

‘Against the hall?’ said Alfric in astonishment.

‘Yes,’ said Ursula. ‘Do you need an explanation of what that means?’

Alfric made no answer, for the question was purely rhetorical. Of course he knew what it meant.

In trial by combat, one fights and kills to prove one’s innocence. The state puts forward one or more champions, and the accused criminal must murder all those champions to prove himself not guilty. On this occasion, Ursula Major had volunteered every single person in the hall to champion the state.

Which meant that Alfric would have to kill off the entire hall, man by man, to prove his innocence.

An impossible task.

But he did have one advantage.

It was his privilege to choose who he would fight first.

Alfric looked around, seeking a suitably weak victim. But he saw none. He suspected this had been planned long in advance. None of the old, the weak and the crippled was in this throneroom, though such people existed in the ranks of the Yudonic Knights.

However, there was Guignol Grangalet.

Alfric caught Grangalet’s eye, and the Chief of Protocol looked away nervously. He knew Alfric could kill him easily. But, what was the point of that? Who cared whether a civil servant like Grangalet lived or died? Ursula Major could get another Chief of Protocol easily.

Nothing would be served by murdering Grangalet.

So…

Alfric was doomed.

He might kill the first man to champion the cause of the state; and he might kill the second, the third, maybe even the fourth — but sooner or later, one of his foes would kill him.

Or was he doomed?

Surely… surely Ursula Major had made an error.

Alfric cleared his throat.

‘If I heard you rightly,’ said Alfric, ‘you volunteered everyone in this hall to fight for the state.’

‘So I did,’ said Ursula Major. ‘Such is my privilege.’

‘But surely you exclude yourself from that number,’ said Alfric.

‘I do not,’ said Ursula Major in a level voice. ‘I stand ready to meet you in combat if you satisfy the necessary protocol.’

‘And the necessary protocol is?’ said Alfric.

‘Very simply, that you prove yourself to be a woman,’ said Ursula Major. ‘For it is the law of the Yudonic Knights that a female cannot meet anyone in trial by combat excepting another female. If you can prove yourself to be a woman, Alfric, I’ll happily fight you.’

This roused a laugh from the Yudonic Knights.

Alfric let that laugh die away, then said: ‘So, if I’m not a woman, I have to fight the men. The males.’

‘Such is your destiny,’ said Ursula.

‘And I can choose… I can choose any male in this hall to be the state’s first champion.’

‘That is your privilege,’ said Ursula.

‘Since that is the case,’ said Alfric, ‘it would appear that you have put the lives of King Dimple-Dumpling’s ambassadors in peril.’

A babble of protest uprose from the Yudonic Knights. Ursula Major called for silence. She was not granted it.

‘Silence!’ she said. Then, shouting, this time: ‘Silence! Shut up, or else!’

Slowly, the noise from the Knights muttered down to almost nothing.

But Alfric knew he had unsettled them.

Ursula Major had designated ‘the hall’ to meet Alfric in challenge. Which meant that Alfric was entitled to choose any person in the hall to fight him.

If he chose one of the orks, then the ork would doubtless die, for any Yudonic Knight could cut such a blubbery creature to pieces with no trouble at all, regardless of what weapons the soft-natured thing might have in its hands.

Alfric could easily kill both of King Dimple-Dumpling’s ambassadors.

Which would mean war between the Qinjoks and Wen Endex.

Ursula Major now had no choice.

She would have to cancel the trial by combat.

Or Alfric would kill the orks and plunge Wen Endex into a ruinous war.

Ursula stared at Alfric in fury, then said:

‘You want to kill the orks? Very well! Kill them!’

Again there was an uproar from the Yudonic Knights. It did not cease until Guignol Grangalet joined Ursula Major in shouting the Knights down to silence.