Hugh Cook - The Walrus and the Warwolf

Ten days after midwinter's day in Khmar 18 – that is, soon after Drake learnt of his place in the demonology of Goudanism – Jon Arabin called a crew-conference.

A number of Arabin's wives were pregnant, so he could face the prospect of more murder with equanimity. With the Warwolf properly overhauled, he was ready to try an audacious plan formulated during his long and bitter captivity in Lorp: to raid Cam, in Stokos, and sack the Orsay Bank.

'It's far,' complained the faint-hearted. 'And it's winter.'

'For sure it's far,' said Arabin. 'But Narba is further, let alone Ling. You've all at least been to Narba. As to the season, why, winter means they won't be expecting us. Anyway, it'll be warm enough down in Stokos.'

Drake was enlisted to draw maps of Cam, and help model the harbour for the inspection of Arabin's officers.

'We'll come as a merchant ship,' said Arabin. 'We'll fly the flag of Chi'ash-lan. We'll have silk on our backs, sheep on the deck, and a bare-breasted woman as figurehead. By night we'll raid the bank. Quick, aye, in and out. Meanwhile, our fire parties set flames amidst the city. Thus chaos while we retreat.'

It was a cunning plan, yet simple. And extremely dangerous – which was part of the reason why Drake had mixed feelings about the operation.

Previously, a voyage to Cam would have meant an ideal opportunity to escape. But flight to Stokos was now the last thing on his mind. Gouda Muck would have him skinned alive then burnt at the stake – or worse.

He would love to see Stokos again, if only for a day. But should he raid his own people? Even if madness had made them flame worshippers, they were still the true blood of Stokos, the meanest wight amongst them worth more than any ten uitlanders.

'Troubled?' said Arabin, sensing his confusion. 'Worries about killing your own, is it? Well, I'll give you a choice on this venture. Will you come, or not?''I'll think about it,' said Drake.And think he did.

The Walrus returned to Knock after a successful raid on the docks of Runcorn. This time, Slagger Mulps and his men proved their success by spending gold like water. Sully Yot made a special point of flaunting his wealth in Drake's presence, while boasting of his daring. Drake, violently jealous, thought Arabin's plans might be worth pursuing if only to win triumph equal to Yot's.

But, while Drake was still weighing the pros and cons, all plans for the raid were interrupted by the unheralded arrival of a foreign adventurer. Menator, he was called: and he came to the Teeth with five ships, three hundred men, and half his own weight in gold.

Almost immediately, he gained a reputation for ambition. Then came public proposals so brash and rash they made Arabin's outrageous plans seem the ultimate in conservative caution. Word went out to all the islands of the Greaters, and the pirates began to gather in to Knock.

The pirates met in general assembly to pass judgment on Menator. Crowding a huge cavern lit by light filtering down twenty air shafts, and by half a hundred smoking torches, they gave off a communal stench which could have seriously competed with a legion of dead seals or any army of dung-soaked dogs.

Drake, in the middle of this mob, was surprised at what a crowd they made.

Menator spoke eloquently in the Galish Trading Tongue. He was, after all, the only person present who had Galish as his native tongue, for all that it was their lingua franca.

He wished to unite them for war and for conquest. To bring Stokos under their yoke. To seize the Lesser Teeth. To build an army. And then to start empire-building in earnest.

Some men jeered, and Drake was one of them. Menator became angry.

'The Greater Teeth could control all the west of Argan,' said Menator. 'If only you could see it. But no. Here you sit, on your walrus-infested rocks-'

This provoked mirth in certain quarters, scowls in others. Menator, puzzled by this reaction, looked around carefully then continued:

'You sit on your rocks, fighting for fish with sharks and skua gulls, when you could rule in palaces of silk and gold, with hot wet women tight between your legs. All it takes is will. An alliance of will. Believe me.'

Promises of paradise will always find buyers, and Menator's speech met with an enthusiastic reception.

'So,' said Menator, thinking this was all going very nicely, 'is it agreed?'

'Hang about!' shouted several voices. 'We haven't heard the other side, yet,'

The pirates wanted a proper debate. They believed strongly in democracy: meaning, among other things, a full and frank discussion of issues of public importance. Menator, who had never before encountered such plebian lower-class attitudes (he came from the better class of Galish merchant, and had mixed with the right kind of people for most of his life) was shocked.Still, there was nothing he could do about it.

First speaker for the negative was Slagger Mulps, who provoked applause just by rising to his feet. Since he was so very tall, he could be seen by almost everyone. And his shock of green hair identified him even in that poor light. His supporters started to chant in unison:'Walrus! Walrus! Walrus!'

Raising one of his double-thumbed fists on high to acknowledge this applause, Slagger Mulps swaggered to the podium (a heap of ale casks stood on their ends) and Menator was forced to yield it to him. The din slowly died down.

Drake, who had brought along some dead fish, threw one. But missed Slagger Mulps – and hit Menator slap-bang in the face. There was a roar of applause. Some of Menator's men drew weapons – but their leader brought them to order with a few curt words.

'Boys,' said Slagger Mulps, with a grin. 'At least you can say this for the Teeth – we've got plenty of fish to spare.'(General applause. From Menator, a scowl.)

'And,' continued Slagger Mulps, 'if the Teeth are infested with Walrus, what's wrong with that?'

(Mixed laughter, cheers, boos. Several dead fish were thrown, but missed.)

'These rocks have got a lot going for them,' said Mulps. 'For a start, they're ours. Nobody else wants them. But once we go seeking hegemony over foreign lands, well, then we're into some really heavy competition.'

(More noise from the audience. A loud-voiced obscene joke about 'herd riding', which was the literal translation of the Galish Mulps had used to say 'hegemony'.)

'Of course,' said Mulps, 'we could do it if we really wanted to. World conquest would be easy compared to sharing these islands with the Warwolf.'

(Uproar. A walrus head was suddenly raised on a battle-spear in the middle of the crowd. Scuffles broke out, continuing until the head had been hauled down and kicked to pieces, thus ceasing to become an object of contention. Slagger Mulps, unperturbed, continued.)

'But, boys, why try enslave the world? We all know how useless slaves are. Won't work unless kicked, and then so tough in the arse you'll as like break your toes as bruise them. Free men work best, boys, as do they now – loading the finest silks and the silkiest women on ships which by the morrow, mark my words, will be idling straight toward our jaws.

'Boys, let's think real. A conquered city sounds sweet, but like as not we'd burn it down the first time we set out to party. Here's a cheer for the Teeth! The walls are solid. They don't rot, they don't burn, or crack if you smash a skull against them. Why, on rock like this, you could even break up the pig bones which skull-plate the Warwolf!'

(Renewed uproar, continuing until the Walrus, satisfied with his eloquence, bowed gracefully and yielded the podium to the next speaker.)

The next speaker was Atsimo Andranovory. The great big barrel-chested black-bearded brute confronted the audience in silence, swaying slightly. Drake, gazing on him with hatred, bitterly regretted the fact that he had no more fish left to throw. Suddenly, Andranovory gave a prodigious belch. Someone clapped. Someone cheered. Then Andranovory vomited – then collapsed. The whole gathering applauded this performance.