Hugh Cook - The Walrus and the Warwolf

Likely those from the Warwolf would throw in their lot with the Walrus men. Likely the men would relieve their frustrations by battering Drake to death. Which would suit Mulps just fine.'He won't do it,' said Simp Fiche loudly.

'Yes I will,' said Drake stoutly. 'And you'll come too, to help me. And – and Yot there, come on, Sully boy, get in behind. And – yes, Bucks Cat, you'll do. Thelemite, man, let's have the Rovac with us. Jez! Yes, you, Jez Glane, you're not that bothered that you can't hear me. Ish Ulpin, yes. And you – Haze, isn't it? And you – what's your name? What was that? Chicks, is it? Then fall in, friend Chicks.'

'Hang about!' said Slagger Mulps. 'Most of those are my men! Why are you taking mine?'

'Because yours are the best,' said Drake, blandly. 'Aren't they? I tell you what, I'll take Jon Disaster too. Grab some rope, Jon. We'll hang some locals once we've loosed Jon Arabin.'

And soon Drake was ashore with his negotiating team, each man kitted out with one or more sharp-edged instruments of pirate-style diplomacy. If all went wrong and most got killed, then Drake – if he survived – would return to the Sky Dancer to find the Walrus more in a minority than he had been. On the other hand … he might just light out for the furthest sand dune he could find, and hide there until the Sky Dancer departed.

Sweating and breathing heavily – it was only three leagues, to be sure, but few of them had walked even half that far for years – Drake and his nine death commandos arrived at the Bildungsgrift.

'Stop here,' said Drake, sitting in the semi-shade of a tall plant which was the local excuse for a tree.The pirates obeyed without question.

'First,' said Drake, like a veteran. 'Clarification of the aim. Then reconnaissance.'

He had learnt those big words from a couple of Galish-speaking soldiers while kicking around idle on Burntos, before the trouble started. They sounded good, and meant he had to do nothing for the time being but sit and stare at the broch.

The Bildungsgrift was not much, as castles went. The moat had filled up with windblow sand some five hundred years before; scurvy grass, docks, stinging nettles and wild radish (not ordinary radish, but the rare bitter-radish of Carawell, which is actually more of an onion) grew right up to the castle walls.

Those walls were not terribly tall, being scarcely twice the height of a man. Only a hastily arranged clutter of barrels and baulks of timber barred the gateway. No proud flag fluttered from the battlements – only a pair of women's bloomers, mounted on a fishing pole (and even those did not flutter, there being no wind). No helmeted warriors lined those walls, only some over-excited villagers armed with stones and fish-gutting knives.

'It's not much of a place,' said Rolf Thelemite. 'One good rush would take us through the gateway with no trouble at all.'

'Yes,' said Drake, proceeding with heavy irony and a masterly grasp of strategy. 'No trouble at all – until we got inside. Then, methinks, thinking being one of my fortes, we'd be outnumbered a hundred to one.'

The word he used for 'fortes' was 'chagcheex', a term from the High Speech which he had picked up from the wizard Miphon.

'Chagcheex?' said Jez Glane, quoting it back to him in bewilderment. 'What does that mean?'

'No idea,' said Drake, who in fact had a hazy idea that it meant octopus-raping abilities. 'But it sounds good, doesn't it?'

'It sounds better than those odds of yours, for sure,' said Glane. 'A hundred to one? Perhaps we'd better go home.'

'Aagh, stop talking like a mother-doll,' said Bucks Cat in disgust.

'Yes,' said Ish Ulpin. 'They're only peasants, not warriors.'

'And the odds, I warrant, are no worse than ten to one at worst,' said Rolf Thelemite.

This was optimistic. The odds were, in truth, closer to fifty to one. Though more than half of those in the castle were women and children, Drake was right in guessing that the pirates would get nowhere by force.'Comeon,' said Drake, 'let'sgo forward.''All of us?' said Yot.

'Yes,' said Drake, 'in caseasudden opportunity presents itself. We have to be ready to snatch our beloved captain if they give us the chance.'

At the back of his mind was the thought that, if the locals started throwing things, more targets would minimize the chances of Drake getting personally battered.

Beforethey could start their advance, Chicks, acoward at heart, faked an epileptic fit. Afterwards, he lay still, pretending, no matter how hard they kicked him, to be unconscious.'I'll wake him up,' said Jon Disaster grimly.

And kicked Chicks so hard in the head that the man was knocked truly unconscious.

'Grafbegrik,' muttered Drake, and led the way forward, leaving Chicks in a heap on the sand.

'Maybe I should stay behind and look after him,' said Simp Fiche.

'Were you born with a cock or weren't you?' said Ish Ulpin.

Simp Fiche made no reply, but kept pace wit h the others as they advanced. Several fish-heads were flung in their direction, but these fell short.'Piss poor thowing,' said Jez Glane.

'Here's far enough,' said Drake, halting thirty paces in front of the gate.He challenged the castle, using Bucks Cat as an amplifier.

'Hoy,' muttered Drake, his throat still scratchy from last night's boozing.

And Bucks Cat shouted, in a voice that made Drake's head feel as if it was splitting from stem to stern: 'Hoy! You farts up there!'

' Don't embellish,' muttered Drake.' Just the plain words will do.'

'Don't embellish!' roared Bucks Cat. Then paused, and asked of Drake: 'What does embellish mean?''It's another word for tattoo,' said Drake.

'Oh,' said Bucks Cat. Then roared out: 'Don't tattoo the Warwolf, unless you want your head shoved up your arse until you suffocate!'

Drake groaned and sat down, covering his face with his hands.

'Is something wrong?' asked Bucks Cat. 'Don't you feel well?'

'I had a hard night,' said Drake, allowing himself to be helped to his feet again. 'I think … I think I'll go into the castle to talk with them direct. Face to face, aye, that's the stuff.''I'll go with you,' said Rolf Thelemite instantly.

'Ah. . .Rolf, man. . .I,ah. . . I think we may have to do a night attack.' Thus spoke Drake. He scratched through his memories of soldier-talk on Burntos, then continued: 'I want you to reconnoitre the rear approaches. Make a sketch map so we can show the others, back at the ship.'

'A sketch map,' said Thelemite. 'Anyone got any writing materials?'

Strangely, none of the pirates had about them quill, ink or parchment. Or, for that matter, a tuning fork or a cookery book,achestnutoracolander,orachunkofthemoonofthe month before.'I've got some tobacco,' volunteered Jez Glane.'Thanks,' said Drake, heavily.

Fortunately, Simp Fiche had a small money-bag made out of human skin. While Bucks Cat held Jez Glane in an armlock, and Ish Ulpin went through his pockets looking for the tobacco, Simp Fiche unpicked the seams of his money-bag.

'What were you planning to do with these?' said Ish Ulpin, pulling from Jez Glane's pockets a full half-dozen high-class condoms, each made from the caecum of a lamb.'Screw your mother backwards,' said Jez Glane. Ish Ulpin cuffed him.

'Belay that!' said Drake, in a voice so loud it hurt his own head.

His throat felt as if it had been torn open by the shout. But it got results, as Bucks Cat released Jez Glane. Ish Ulpin, perhaps momentarily ashamed of his uncomradely behaviour, even turned over to Glane a tenth of the tobacco just stolen from him.

Then, as Ish Ulpin began to glove his fingers one by one with the condoms taken from Glane, Rolf Thelemite took the unpicked bag of human skin from Simp Fiche.

'I'll get the map done on this,' said Thelemite, bravely, as a Rovac warrior should. 'I'll find a thorn, draw my blood, then map out our war with that.''Good, good,' said Drake. 'Yot – you come with me.'