Hugh Cook - The Walrus and the Warwolf

Then the Dragon sailed to a mountainous part of the coast of Chorst, and hove to by night while her boats went back and forth filling water barrels from a generous shoreside stream. This operation went smoothly, for every pirate concerned had helped often with these water-raids.Only then could the ship run south.

'At least there's nothing to delay us further between here and Ling,' said Drake. He was wrong.

For, as the Dragon cruised southwards in the vicinity of the Gaunt Reefs, the lookout in the crow's-nest spied something on those wave-lashed rocks which might have been a wreck. And Jon Arabin ordered the Dragon to heave to.

While Drake paced up and down the deck, near ready to kill himself with frustration – every day took Zanya closer to death, and here they were wasting time sending boats to look at some smashed-up driftwood on some desolate sea-rocks! – a cutter from the Dragon ventured to the reef.And returned with the sole survivor of a shipwreck. That survivor was Sully Yot.

Miphon's dream: to learn to breed the paratopic; to teach this knowledge to the world; to benefit all humanity by ending sickness, drunkenness and addiction for once and forever. This dream, which Miphon has come to cherish, allows him to persuade himself that Drake's intentions are strictly honourable.

When Sully Yot was brought aboard the Dragon, goose-pimples standing out on his skin like an extra set of warts, the first person he recognized was Drake. Who promptly drew his sword.

'Belay that!' said Jon Arabin, with anger in his blue-sky eyes. 'Sheath that blade on the instant!''I'll see Yot dead first,' snarled Drake.

Upon which Yot swooned, thumping to the deck like a derelict sack of potatoes.'You kill him, and you die yourself,' said Jon Arabin.

Seeing the Warwolf was serious, Drake reluctantly sheathed his sword. He then argued strenuously for the immediate lynching of Sully Yot.

'He's useless meat,' said Drake. 'We've got ballast enough already.'

But both Walrus and Warwolf refused to countenance such execution. Both felt they had seen far too much pointless death in the last few years.

'He's an old shipmate of ours,' said Jon Arabin. 'You can't kill him off just like that!''He stole that magic star-globe from the rest of us when

we were in the Penvash Peninsular,' said Drake.

'Aagh, that's ancient history,' said the Walrus. 'And if we're to speak of stealing, what about that tinder-box? Anyway, that ball of stars was no good to anyone. All it did was open a Door from one place of horror to another – and who'd care to chance such a second time, having survived it once?''I've – I've personal quarrels with Yot,' said Drake.

'Then you'll not settle such quarrels aboard the good ship Dragon,' said Jon Arabin. T charge you with the care, comfort, safety and security of Sully Yot. Punishment, if you fail, will be unlimited!'

Arabin followed this order with specific instructions. Amongst other things, he warned Drake not to let Yot fall overboard at night while sleepwalking, eat poison, fall on knives, tumble down a companion-way, or accidentally strangle himself.'If he dies,' said Jon Arabin, 'I'll know who killed him!'

Thus it was that when Yot regained consciousness, the first thing he saw was Drake Douay leaning over him. Yot lay helpless, staring up at him. What was the most vicious, crippling thing Drake could say? He thought swiftly, then said it:'Gouda Muck is dead.''What?' said Yot.'Dead,' said Drake. 'Muck. He's dead.' 'You always did tell a good lie,' said Yot. And fainted.

When Yot came round, Drake started on at him again. 'Muck really is dead, you know. He was mad. Here, drink this.'

So saying, Drake fed Yot some tepid broth. They were in Jon Arabin's master-cabin, which had been temporarily reserved for the invalid. Yot had been almost dead when rescued from the Gaunt Reefs.

While feeding Yot, Drake spun a long and involved tale about the madness of Gouda Muck, and about Muck's death. This part of his story was true. Slowly, as detail gathered on detail, Drake saw despair register in Yot's eyes. Yot believed. For Drake's account of Muck's final madness made sense in the light of Muck's life.

Strangely, while telling the history of Muck's last days, Drake felt his anger subside. Muck had been mad, true. So who could rightly hold his actions against him? Yot had always been sane, of course – but feeble-minded. Could Yot help it if he had a brain as soft as stinking cheese? And they had been friends, of a sort, in the years of their apprenticeship . . .

'No doubt you'd also like to hear,' said Drake, 'about the death-stone and the magic red bottle and such.'

'Nothing,' said Yot weakly, 'could be further from my mind.'

'We know each other too well to be believing that,' said Drake. 'The truth is that Morgan Hearst lost his temper with Blackwood and Miphon when we were all beseiged together in the western gatehouse of Lorford . . .'

Thus Drake began telling a pack of total untruths. He made Yot believe that Hearst had seized the death-stone and the red bottle before parting company with Miphon and Blackwood.

'Then I guessed wrong,' said Yot. 'I guessed where you'd go – that part I got right.'

'Yes,' said Drake, 'yes, you did well to guess the first part.'

'But I also thought… I also thought you'd have bottle and death-stone with you. So I chanced my life for nothing . . .'

'Never mind,' said Drake. 'It's all over now. We're to be friends.''We are?' said Yot. 'Aye,' said Drake.

He almost hoped that this was true. In any case, he would be safer if Yot thought of him as a friend.

With Yot slowly convalescing on board, the Dragon proceeded south.With her lean, long lines, the Dragon was a fast ship, and a wet one. The deck was a slather of spray and water in seas where the old Warwolf would have been near enough to bone-dry.

A day after they had cleared the Gaunt Reefs, they became embroiled in a two-day tussle with the tail-end of a cyclone. As the ship pitched and heaved, Drake was heartily glad that Zanya was safe in the red bottle, where – or so report had it – the horizons were always stable no matter how much the bottle was shaken.

Drake spent much of the storm in the cabin with Sully Yot, going over the details of Muck's final madness time and time again. Each time he told the story, his attitude to Muck softened.

'Aye,' said Drake, one day of storm. 'I remember the day when I was to be thrown to the sea beyond Stokos. Muck came to the waterfront to see me off. Brought clothes for me. Trousers, aye, and a jersey of greasy wool. That was before his madness set in. Likely those things saved my life – so I can't hold too much against him.'

'We've . . . we've been through a lot together,' said Yot.'Aye,' said Drake. 'In Penvash and all. . .'And nostalgia claimed them as the storm worsened.

After the Dragon had survived the storm-weather, the days smoothed out nicely as she sailed for the south. She kept well clear of the coast, but a silt-brown discoloration told when she was abeam of Androlmarphos and the Velvet River v

Further south, the crew sighted a smudge on the eastern horizon. Jon Arabin averred that the smudge was the western coast of Stokos. Drake gazed on it for a long time, thinking of his mother, his father, his brother Heth. There were tears in his eyes when he turned away.

'Why are you crying?' said Yot, happening upon this scene of homesickness.'Man,' said Drake, T was thinking of Zanya.''Why so?''When we reached Anvil,' said Drake, 'she decided she could live no longer with the blue leprosy. She cut her throat. Aye, like my sister did on Stokos.''I'm . . . I'm sorry to hear that,' said Yot.