Hugh Cook - The Walrus and the Warwolf

'Tired?' said Plovey. 'Perhaps the two of you would like to rest.'

Drake and Zanya accepted this suggestion. They retired to the bedroom, but they did not give themselves to love, for both were emotionally exhausted. Instead, they cuddled into the safety of each other's arms, and went to sleep.Drake slept.

Systole and diastole, his heart maintained his life while his mind wandered in the world of dreams. He dreamed of an orphan's cry, of a homeless woman weeping, of vagabond winds roaming a plain of dust and ruins, of nations hungering to starvation … of a time a thousand generations hence, when all his world had passed out of memory. . .Drake woke.Tears were in his eyes.

Zanya lay in his arms breathing softly, sweetly. Familiar smell of her breath. Strand of red hair trailing across her lips. Flickers of dream beneath her eyelids. He kissed her, gently, lightly, then closed his own eyes once again.

And fell asleep to dream of eating, of turtle soup and dragon steaks, of basilisk pie and ribs of gryphon, of bananas and peaches, chicken and duck.

So dreaming, Drake slept until Darlinda woke them with the news that the first course of the evening meal would shortly be served.

That evening, a lutist played for their entertainment, and Plovey's darling wife served them the most marvellous meal. Wines free of sediment were brought to them in cut crystal, which even Drake knew to be fabulously expensive and wondrous rare.

Drake and Zanya exchanged many glances, saluted each other quietly in wine, and touched feet beneath the table. Their sleep had revived them. Both knew they would be ready for all kinds of wickedness once the meal was done.Candles were lit as the evening darkened.

Course after course was served, with many delicate things to tempt the palate. There were freshwater crayfish from Chenameg, and tender scrawls from the seacoast. There were interesting stews served in dainty bowls, and nuts to knapple on between courses.

But the piece de resistance was a rich, hot curry full of bizarre and exciting tastes. To Drake, it felt like eating fire. He glutted himself on it.

Then the dishes were cleared away by Plovey's indefatigable wife (who had not yet eaten herself), a flutist joined the lutist, and Plovey offered round cigars which contained an interesting mixture of opium, hashish and tobacco.

'Friend Drake,' said Plovey, as they drew on the rich smoke, 'I was interested in your trial today. For you denied yourself to be Arabin lol Arabin.''So I did,' said Drake.

'Yet, under interrogation,' said Plovey, 'you insisted often that you'd ruled in Runcorn.'

'Ah,' said Drake, 'but there was a simple reason for that. I knew this Arabin lol Arabin to be a freak of nature, fit to eat any poison. So I made a pretence at being him, that I might get myself fed poison.'

'So that was your game,' said Plovey. 'To escape from torture through suicide.'

'Precisely,' said Drake, with a sidelong glance at Zanya, who smiled in love and anticipation.'So you've no stomach for poison,' said Plovey.

'Why,' said Drake, 'no more than any other mortal man.'

'Then that is strange,' said Plovey, 'for a most special portion of curry was served to you this evening.' 'How so?' said Drake.

'Dear darling boy,' said Plovey, 'the portion served to you had arsenic in it, and cyanide, and strychnine, and an extract of belladonna and fine-chopped portions of a dozen other poisonous plants besides.'Drake stared at Plovey.

'You joke,' said Drake, 'for if what you said is true, then I'd be dead.''No,' said Plovey. T spoke true enough.'

And he clapped his hands, sharply, once. At that signal, guards entered to seize Drake. He fought. But it was useless: he was unarmed, and outnumbered eight to one. Zanya,-screaming with rage, started to batter the guards with a chair. Plovey grabbed her round the waist. She thumped him, knocked him insensible then threw him across the room.Upon which another four guards joined the fray.

Many bruises later, both Drake and Zanya were dragged away, still struggling.Plovey zar Plovey was unconscious.

Plovey's darling wife Darlinda seized her opportunity. She grabbed a pillow case, loaded it with all the gold, silver, jade and coinage she could lay her hands on, then quit the house. At dawn, she boarded a galley going downstream towards Androlmarphos: and she was never seen in Selzirk again.

The Swarms: diverse monstrous colony creatures dwelling in the terror-lands south of Drangsturm; are controlled by an entity known as the Skull of the Deep South; are prevented from invading the north of Argan by a watch maintained at Drangsturm by the Confederation of Wizards.

The retrial of Drake Douay was curt. Gouda Muck could not give evidence against him, for Muck had fled Selzirk to escape a warrant which would have had him arrested as a public menace. However, Plovey of the Regency was there to testify against him.

Drake was convicted of being a public menace, and was sentenced to life imprisonment in the House of Earthly Enlightenment, which stood next to the Zingrin warehouse in Jone.

Zanya was put on trial for perjury, was convicted and was sentenced to slavery. Plovey of the Regency bought her as a concubine, then visited Drake especially for the pleasure of giving him the news.Drake wept.

But weeping did him no good. So he tried curses, and prayers, and a couple of chants which he'd learnt which were supposed to be magic.

All to no effect.

Each day he woke in the same prison cell. It was an enormous stone-walled room which held ninety-seven men. Light (and wind, rain, moths, mosquitoes, flies,

beetles and dust) came in through the myriad slit windows built into one wall. There were a dozen small holes in the centre of the floor for use as toilets. There were no chairs, no beds, no pallets.

But at least Drake was left with the clothes on his back. And at least he had plenty of company.However . . .

Very quickly he began to doubt the value of having company in such quantity. It meant, for a start, that there were bitter arguments over the daily dole of food and water.

The water was brought from the Velvet River in casks which had once held fusel-oil. The food was a hunk of ironbread per man per day, plus a bowl each of a tepid, fuscous broth which occasionally contained some inscrutable fabaceous objects which, despite their shape, were certainly not beans. Sometimes this was supplemented by a bit of gristle or a bone with a few rat-pickings still adhering.

For the first ten days, a larger man bullied Drake, stealing half of his food and a third of his water. After which Drake lost patience, and fought back. The gaolers removed the larger man's corpse without comment. Perhaps they failed to notice his broken neck, and thought he had simply succumbed to the river water as so many others did.After that, nobody picked on Drake.

But there was no escaping from the constant arguments, from the banter of gamblers playing at sharps and knuckles, from the monotonous sing-song of very tame geniuses competing against each other in mental games of dragon chess, and from the whining complaints of old men with face-ache and arthritis. Some of the ancients, Drake found, had been stuck in this prison cell for as much as thirty years!He determined he would escape.Yes.And kill Plovey of the Regency, kill him slowly, with great care. And rescue Zanya. And escape with her to the Far South, to Drangsturm itself, and seek employment with wizards.

First, Drake tried to bribe a gaoler with imaginary monies. Despite Drake's skill at deception, this ploy failed. Then he tried for liberty by offering his body to one particularly villainous-looking turnkey, a brute with a swollen, depraved face and a great big bloated kyte. But the man had got himself castrated years ago, when he was seeking a position as a eunuch in a palace at Voice, in the Rice Empire.