Hugh Cook - The Walrus and the Warwolf

'Who thinks to conquer Stokos overnight? We'll be years gaining the place, if we gain it ever.'Years! Drake did not like the sound of that at all.

The next day, his sealing boat entered the Inner Sleeve, where lay three ships only.

One was the Walrus, which seemed to be deserted. The second was the Warwolf, from which came sounds of hammering. The third ship was the Tarik. Drake found King Tor still living aboard the Tarik in a hold roofed by a tarpaulin.

'So you're back,' said Tor, without much enthusiasm, when Drake reported.

The ogre had toothache, constipation and a bad migraine – hence his enthusiasm for life was diminished.

'Yes,' said Drake, a little hurt at such a cold reception. 'Do you want to hear where I've been? What I've done?'

'Whatever your tale, it can't make me feel worse than I do,'said Tor. 'So tell.'

Whereupon Drake launched into an account of his deeds and doings which was one part of fact to twenty parts of fiction. Then asked after his brother Heth.

'Your brother,' said Tor, 'has gone on a raiding expedition to Stokos. We don't expect him back for twenty days. Meanwhile … I believe the one they call the Walrus has a proposition to make to you.'

'That's interesting,' said Drake. 'Maybe he wants to reward me for defending his retreat from Burntos.'

'Maybe he does,' said Tor blandly. 'You'll find him, I believe, in the Ironbar.''The Ironbar?' said Drake, blankly.

'It' s a new place, only open for twenty days. It' s at the top of the Thousand Stairs, wherever that is. They say there used to be a brothel up there, the Drumroll.'

'Oh, that place!' said Drake.' Yes, I know how to find it!'

And off he went, climbing the Thousand Stairs which wound their way up through the rock in utter darkness. Once he bumped into a raving madman who was suffering from delirium tremens, and twice he stepped on bodies which felt more than a little dead.

At last Drake won through to the Ironbar, a pirate tavern occupying a monstrous cavern set high in the cliffs of Knock. Gaunt daylight breathed in through a cavemouth which gaped to a killing drop free-falling to the wave-wrinkled sea.

When Drake entered the Ironbar, there were half a dozen groups of pirates lounging back in the comfort of bean-bags, drinking, gambling, talking or sleeping. Most had been there for half a dozen days or more already. At the back of the cave, a bare-breasted whore was dancing to the slovenly music of a drunken trombonist. Closer to the daylight, some gamblers were feeding rats to a spider the size of a wolf which occupied a cage of gleaming copper.

Drake looked around for the Walrus. But Slagger Mulps saw him first.

'Aaagh,' said the Walrus. 'So here you are! Brought your blood with you, have you, in payment for treachery?'

'Treachery!' said Drake, cursing himself for being so stupid as to have ventured to the Ironbar without a weapon. 'What's this treachery you speak of? I shared every risk of your voyage, aye. Then risked my life to cover your retreat when we were attacked on a certain island I could name.'

'I'll name it, no problem,' said the Walrus. 'The island was Burntos, where we provisioned after capturing the Neversh in the terror-lands. Aye. Then you tempted us into a little raiding on the side – and betrayed us to the soldiers of the place. You gut-knot sprogling brat!'

'That's fighting talk!' said Drake, measuring the distance to the door to the Thousand Stairs.

'Aye, it is,' said the Walrus. 'And you've brought no weapon. Well – have this one.'

So saying, the Walrus took the sword worn by Simp Fiche, one of the half-dozen cronies gathered around him, and tossed it through the air to Drake, who caught it by the hilt. The weapon balanced nicely in his hand.'You still talk of treason, then?' said Drake.

He slipped a third of Simp Fiche's blade into a crack in the cavern floor then applied pressure. The blade was battle-worthy: it did not break.

'I talk the truth,' said the Walrus, gripping the hilt of his own blade with his two-thumbed fist.

'You'll talk apology,' said Drake, who doubted he would survive for long in the Teeth if he got labelled as a traitor, 'or our blades will talk death.'

'Oho!' said the Walrus, his green beard shaking as he laughed. 'Death! That's a big word for a little boy. Do you mean it as a challenge?'

T do,' said Drake, his voice harsh and hard, like hammer against anvil. Now he was armed, he had no need to run. Mulps, from the sound of him, had been drinking. Drake should be able to kill him easily enough, if it came to a fight.

'Withdraw your challenge,' said the Walrus. 'Withdraw it, aye, then cut off four of your fingers as punishment for treachery. Do that, and we'll forget about the past.'

'Four fingers!' said Drake. 'You must be mad, man! The challenge stands!'

'Then I,' said Ish Ulpin, rising to his feet, T will champion the Walrus in this matter.'

As Ish Ulpin rose, Slagger Mulps sat down, smiling.

'What's this?' said Drake, alarmed. 'Is friend Walrus scared to meet me, man to man?''You're not worth his time,' said Ish Ulpin.

And, drawing his blade, he strode toward Drake Douay, intent on a kill. Drake hurled Simp Fiche's sword at Ish Ulpin and fled, descending the Thousand Stairs with a speed nothing short of amazing.

He was still breathless by the time he gained the deck of the Tarik, where he reported his plight to King Tor.

'You ran away!' roared King Tor. 'You disgusting little coward!'

'Man,' said Drake, 'you don't understand! Ish Ulpin's a killer, aye, fought for years in Chi'ash-lan, killed fifty men as a gladiator, I've heard the stories!'

'I'm not a man,' said Tor, 'so don't address me as such. I'm an ogre. And proud of it. And I'll tell you this – it'll be an ogre my daughter marries, not a man. I've had my doubts about you for a long time. Now they're confirmed. You disgusting cowardly little bit of scuttling vomit! Get out of here before I crush you spineless!'

Drake, in terror, quit the Tarik, running so fast he almost became airborne. Tor hurled abuse – then hurled a water-cask. The barrel hit the raw-rock flanks of the Inner Sleeve just above Drake's head, exploding into a shower of wood and water. Drake ducked into the nearest tunnel, ran deep into the shadows then cowered there panting, as shaken as a rat pursued by a pack of hunting dogs.'Man!' muttered Drake. 'This is but rough!'

How had things gone so wrong so fast? He had returned to Knock expecting to be welcomed as a hero – expecting to claim his share of the glory of the capture of a Neversh by the Walrus, to win the acclaim of brave men and bold, and to have his rights to King Tor's daughter and the throne of Stokos generously confirmed.

Instead – well, it looked like he'd be lucky to get off the island alive. What's my options?

He could run, stealing a boat if need be. In which case Ish Ulpin would eventually hunt him down and kill him, unless he left the Greaters. He could take service with Lord Menator. But that hard-nosed warlord might perhaps hand him over to Tor or the Walrus, as a gift. Heth, Heth, I wish you were here.

But Drake's brother Heth was far away, in Stokos or elsewhere. He had to handle this one on his own. He soon saw he had only two chances of sure survival – to leave the

Greaters entirely or to find a pirate captain to shelter him.

I'll not leave. The game of power, that's played out here. If I want a share of Stokos, I've got to stay. Aye. Throat it out to the finish. We'll conquer the island soon enough. Aye. I want to be in on that, if just for the fun of slicing up Gouda Muck. As for pirate captains . . .

Abousir Belench might have me. Or maybe not. What do I know about him and the Walrus? Is it kisses or knives? I don't know, man. Maybe they're lovers from way back. Or maybe at war to the knife. Man, if Belench proves a friend of the Walrus. . . no, I can't risk it.