Hugh Cook - The Werewolf and the Wormlord

‘As I said,’ said Ursula Major, ‘kill the orks if that’s what you wish.’

Alfric glanced at the orks. The grey-skinned creatures had shrunk away from him. They were huddled together, holding hands. And both were crying. He was embarrassed.

Well?

Should he murder them?

Alfric made a cold-blooded calculation, and decided there was no profit in killing orks. It would win him no prestige with the Yudonic Knights. It would not serve to prove his courage; which, in any case, had been adequately proved already. He had threatened to plunge Wen Endex into war, and Ursula Major But wait!

Was she bluffing?

Was she waiting to see whether he really would go ahead and challenge one of the orks?

Alfric looked again at Ursula Major, saw the depth of her frustrated rage, and decided that, no, she was not bluffing. She wanted him dead. Even if a war with the ogres was the price of his death.

Alfric cleared his throat.

‘You invite me,’ said Alfric, ‘to murder two ambassadors. I do not think such an invitation civilized, nor do I intend to accept that invitation. Nevertheless, let all here bear witness to the fact that you extended such an invitation to me.’

‘You were the one who suggested it!’ shouted Ursula Major, unable to contain herself.

‘I felt it my duty to point out the grievous error you had made,’ said Alfric coldly. ‘I would never take advantage of such an error, for I love my country. But others would not be scrupulous. Whether I live or die today, I do not want you to repeat your error. I do not want Wen Endex driven to war on account of your foolishness.’

This excited the Yudonic Knights again, and Guignol Grangalet had difficulty in silencing them. Alfric knew he had scored a decisive blow in this battle of wits. The odds were against him, but maybe, just maybe, he could undermine Ursula Major’s authority to the point where she got laughed off the throne.

As Alfric was so thinking, he was engulfed in the arms of an ork. It was Morgenstem.

‘Thank you, Alfric,’ said Morgenstem, giving him a big slubbering kiss. ‘Oh thank you, thank you, thank you so much for sparing us.’

The Yudonic Knights broke into open laughter, and Alfric knew all the ground he had made up was lost. He was enraged. He wanted to break Morgenstem in half, to smash the soft and slobbery creature. But he knew it was too late. The ork had made him look ridiculous, and he could not recover his dignity by killing the thing, an action which would only lead to an embarrassing scene with Cod.

‘So,’ said Ursula, as Morgenstem released Alfric, ‘we see this thing for what it is. A lover of orks.’

More laughter from the Knights.

‘We wonder what other strange passions it leamt in the Qinjoks,’ said Ursula. ‘Many times it went there, did it not? Many dealings it had with the ogres. Secret, those dealings, but we won’t ask it what happened in those meetings.’

What was this? A subtle accusation of treachery?

‘I went to the Qinjoks at the behest of the Bank,’ said Alfric. ‘All men know that, and women too. I brought back a treasure of jade, tribute to be handed over to the ambassador from the Izdimir Empire. ’

‘Yet the treasure every year became leaves and sticks,’ said Ursula. ‘Strange, is it not? What really happened, Alfric? And does what happened help to explain your fine rich house on Vamvelten Street? Never mind, we-’ ‘I mind!’ said Alfric. ‘How much more nonsense can we listen to? Do you really think I took the ogres’ treasure? Are you really accusing me of theft?’

‘You stand guilty of treason,’ said Ursula Major. ‘Therefore there is no point in us trifling with lesser crimes. Let it be noted, however, that you appear to love the denizens of the Qinjoks more than your own kind. These last three nights, you’ve sheltered with orks when no house of humans would have you. ’

‘Orks took me in,’ said Alfric. ‘True. Orks sheltered me. I could quibble, oh yes, I could quibble with a minor point, and say the house in question was not a place of orks but, rather, an inn owned by one Anna Blaume. But I won’t trifle with such points. Rather, I’ll ask the big question. Why have orks proved more constant in friendship than humans? I believe it is because the humans have erred in their judgement.’

Alfric took a deep breath.

If he was going to talk himself out of this one, he must make himself acceptable to the Knights. He could not repudiate the orks, because the evidence of his affiliation with those blubber-oil beasts was too strong. But he could stress that he was in truth a Yudonic Knight, a hero equal to any out of saga.

‘Humans have erred,’ said Alfric, ‘and any who think on what I am and who I am will realize the depth of that error. I am a patriot. I am Alfric Danbrog. A hero! The killer of Herself! Whatever you think of — of the political advantages of having a monster on the loose, I’m entitled to the gratitude of the nation. ’

Alfric paused.

Actually, his heart was not really in this. While he had always had a very high opinion of himself, he had never been one for open boasting. And, what was more, he was starting to despair of winning victory through words.

‘The gratitude of the nation,’ said Ursula Major, sneering as she said it.

‘Yes!’ said Alfric. ‘And — and I tell you this. You want me dead? Very well. You can have me dead. But I won’t die alone. I gladly take the opportunity to prove my innocence in trial by combat. Naturally, I’ll die. Sooner or later. But this I promise: I’ll kill the first man who comes against me.’

So saying, Alfric looked as fiercely as he could upon the Yudonic Knights. They looked back with undisguised hostility. Indeed, with hate.

But why?

Why did they hate him?

His association with orks could make him look ridiculous, but it could scarcely make him hateful. And surely nobody could believe the accusations of crime which had been made against him. Something else had caused the breach between Alfric and the Knights. Did they really believe that he had deliberately shunned the funeral of his father and grandfather? And even if they did believe that, was that enough to condemn him to death? And could they not see that he would make a good king, maybe even a great king?

Many of these Knights were the very same men who had marched with Tromso Stavenger to do battle against Herself, yet Alfric saw not a hint of sympathy on any of their faces. He started to suspect that they were ashamed of their cowardice (as well they should be!) and that their hostility was consequent upon their shame.

Their cowardice haunted them, and so they wanted to forget the past. They did not value Alfric Danbrog for his heroism; rather, they resented his triumph and what that triumph said about their own timidity. Thus the momentum of the movement to put a Danbrog on the throne had been killed entirely. For the Yudonic Knights it was far better (as far as their egos were concerned) that Alfric be known as a murderous fool, an anarchic underminer of stability, a self-serving careerist, an enemy of the State.

Thus Ursula Major’s smooth-voiced logic had a potent appeal for the Knights, and there was no way Alfric could argue effectively against it.

He saw that, now.

All his rhetorical efforts had failed, and had always been doomed to fail.

So.

It had come to this.

He must meet the Yudonic Knights of the hall in combat. One by one he must meet them and kill them. Naturally, if he tried to do any such thing he would surely die himself, on his first duel or his second, or the sixth or the seventh. So he could give up. Now. He could let himself be dragged away by the executioner. He could submit himself to a coward’s death.