Hugh Cook - The Walrus and the Warwolf

But Arabin . . . aye, there's no love between him and Mulps. They're in it to the death. So that's my chance. Old Jon, yes, he was plenty angry before. But – fresh hate of the Walrus! That'll charm Jon for certain, I'm sure of it

Having thought such optimistic thoughts, Drake ventured back to the Inner Sleeve, and slipped aboard the Warwolf. He found himself face to face with Jon Disaster.

'Why, Drake, man!' said Disaster, clapping him on the back, clearly delighted to see him. 'It's been a long time!'

'Just a voyage or so,' said Drake. 'Not that long at all, though much has happened. Where's Arabin?'

'Why, the man's in his cabin, staring out charts and such. We sail for the south tomorrow.''Monster-hunting?' said Drake.

'Aye,' said Disaster, all enthusiasm. 'Slagger Mulps got a monster from the terror-lands, so we can too. If the Walrus can make admiral, let's have the Warwolf make admiral too.''Why so much love for Arabin's ambition?' said Drake.

'It's the treasure I'm thinking of, man,' said Disaster. 'An admiral's share, oh, that's rich for certain. If we go on conquest with Warwolf as admiral, we're sure for a cut of the loot. So we're more than ready to run the risk.'

'And so am I,' said Drake warmly. T wish to pledge my life again to the noble Warwolf, aye, and go on quests of high adventure with this ship and her noble crew.'

'Aaagh, and your farts sing sweetly too!' said Jon Disaster, with a laugh. 'But – Drake, man. Seriously. The Warwolf's a mighty proud man. Don't you understand that? When Arabin spoke against Menator's wars of conquest and you spoke for – he took that mighty hard.'

'So maybe he'll rip me sideways,' said Drake. 'And maybe not. It's a risk I'll dare.'

And Drake dared himself as far as Jon Arabin's cabin, where the Warwolf, stony faced, listened to his explanation of his plight.

'So you see,' concluded Drake, having spoken more honestly than was his wont, T need help, man, I need help bad. I can't face Ish Ulpin. That brute's a killer. The Walrus, oh, I could take him drunk – aye, maybe even sober. But Ish Ulpin? Never!'

'What do you expect me to do for you?' said Jon Arabin in a voice hard as thrice-baked sea-biscuit.

'Why, take me to sea with you, that's all I ask,' said Drake. 'A fair share of work, risk, suffering terrible, fear formidable and-'

'And nothing,' said Jon Arabin. 'I'll have nothing to do with you. I've made that plain already.''But you're my captain, man!'

'No longer,' said Arabin. 'You're the man who spoke against me when the pirates met in conference. You're the cook's boy who hoped to make me a servant of sorts if you came to power on Stokos.'

'Man,' said Drake, unhappily, 'if I remember right, I wanted to make you lord of all my seapower.''A servant,' repeated Arabin.

'But you're chasing a position of the same sort under Menator,' said Drake. 'Yet you hate the man, if I'm a judge of hates. But since Mulps may be admiral, you must be admiral too, aye, nothing else will serve. Well, then – if it's good enough for you to be admiral under Menator, then why not under me?'

Drake had failed to remember that nothing will make an angry man more furious than a touch of logic which threatens to destroy the legitimacy of his rage. Jon Arabin came to his feet with a roar – and Drake, wisely, fled yet again.

He'll cool down. Aye. Then come to reason. But it'll take time. And the Warwolf sails tomorrow! I've got to win time, man. I've got to be with old Arabin when his temper cools. Aye. So that means. . .Yes. . .

On the third day of the Warwolf 's voyage south, Drake Douay was discovered hiding in a sail locker, and was dragged on deck to meet the justice of Jon Arabin. The day was cool and almost calm. The entire crew gathered on deck to watch the proceedings. Even Harly Burpskin was there. He was supposed to be steering the ship, but, with the winds being so light, he thought it safe enough to lash the wheel and slip into the crowd to watch the fun.

Jon Arabin, face set like rock, came out of his cabin to deal with the stowaway. He came stalking down the deck, halted three paces in front of Drake and stared at him.'Hi!' said Drake, brightly.And smiled.No smile came in response.

Obviously, the Warwolf's temper had not yet changed for the better. Drake's smile crumpled. He looked at the silent faces all around, and saw there – death. His death. Friendless he was, alone amongst his enemies. He felt. . . not frightened, not terror-stricken, but . . . crushed. Desolated. Utterly lonely.

'Jon, man,' said Drake, striving to arrange a fresh smile on his face. 'Why so solemn?'Silence.No response.Then:'Quin Baltu!' said Arabin.'Yes?' said Quin Baltu, the foul-mouthed muscle-man.'Throw this rubbish overboard,' said Jon Arabin.

Then turned his back on the pair of them, perhaps because he did not want to watch. Quin Baltu looked at Drake, looked at Arabin's back, cleared his throat, then spoke:

'Jon, I've thrown him over. But he's so full of bounce he's come right back again.'Jon Arabin turned on him.'This is no joke!' roared Arabin.

'Aye, well,' saidQ uin Baltu, 'I didn't think it was. Death . . . that's never a joking matter, Jon. We kill fish, that's easy. Kill enemies, too. But friends? That's a difficult one, Jon.'

'He's your friend?' said Arabin. 'This snivelling little dwarf is your friend? Don't be crazy! Give him to the sharks!''No,'said Baltu.The two men stared at each other. 'Is this mutiny?' said Arabin.

'Jon, man,' said Baltu, slowly, 'I remember a time when there was near enough to mutiny aboard. We were running hard for the western coast of the Drangsturm Gulf. Aye. There were some of us hot for turning back, even if it meant the ship's destruction. We'd rather chance to the boats than risk that coast. But Drake Douay stood staunch beside you.

'You remember, Jon, as well as I do. Drake saved your ship from mutiny by talk of an island. Tor. That's the name of the island. So we ran west. We f ound the island. Ship and men were saved. But did Drake know the island was there? Man, you know better than me. I've thought it through since, and I know what I think. Jon – if the boy dreamed up the island by way of bluff, it means he trusted you. If he invented that island by way of bluff, it means he was sure you'd find us safety somehow to the west.'Jon Arabin was silent.Remembering.

Drake Douay had indeed helped save his ship from mutiny and loss at sea. The knowledge hurt.

'If the boy told a lie about an island,' said Arabin harshly, 'why should I save him for that? Because he's a liar?'

'You shouldn't save him!' cried the excited voice of Sully Yot. 'You should kill him! Gut him open! He's the enemy of Gouda Muck! He's the son of Hagon! He's the Evil One! He's-'

The tirade from the lean, lanky wart-faced Sully Yot ended suddenly as Ika Thole brought the blunt end of a marlinspike down on his head. Hard. Sully Yot collapsed unconscious on the deck. The red-skinned Ika Thole stood over his body and spoke:

'This useless piece of meat called Sully Yot, if he were my son I'd cut him up and use him as shark-bait. He yatters on about religion till he takes me to the very point of murder. And where did he come from? Why, off the Walrus, that's where he came from. So he was our enemy, once. Yet you took him in, Jon, because he spoke against Slagger Mulps when the Orfus met in assembly.

'Drake Douay, well, I didn't think much of him at sight, and don't think much more now. But if we were hungry enough to be killing for eating, he wouldn't be first on my list. This Yot would be first. We've taken on Yot, who was crewman under the Walrus. So we can take back Drake, whatever he's done or hasn't.'

With that said, Ika Thole gave Yot's body a kick, then looked hard at Jon Arabin.