Hugh Cook - The Walrus and the Warwolf

Jon Arabin sprang through the Door. He saw fire, and smelt smoke. Breathed smoke, too. Coughed. The fighting thirteen were standing in tinder-dry eucalyptus forest through which wildfire was spreading like – well, frankly, like wildfire.

'Knobs of gods and bollocks of bulls!' quoth Slagger Mulps. 'Out of the dragon's pantry and into his oven!' 'I think-' began Sully Yot.

Then he too coughed because of the smoke, and, if he continued to think, did not pronounce on the fact.

'Move your arses,' said Jon Arabin, jabbing his newfound sword in the direction of the Door. 'Into it!'

'But we don't want to go back there!' protested Simp Fiche.

'Haven't you got it into your head yet?' said Arabin. 'The Door goes round in a circle!'

'Then let's get on with it,' growled Ish Ulpin, jumping back onto the marble plinth. He collided with a foreign warrior who was exiting from the Door. 'Bloody bad

manners,' said Ish Ulpin, swatting the foreigner and breaking his jaw.Then he went through the Door.

Drake jumped onto the plinth. A grey monster with an armoured frill round its neck almost gored him as it thrust its horned head through. He plunged his sword deep into its eye, withdrew the weapon as the monster backtracked-Hesitated-Then fell through the Door as Arabin booted him again.

Drake hit the ground rolling, came to his feet with a fighting scream, and danced round with blade in hand, menacing each direction in turn.

'Nobody here, man, but us ship rats,' said Ish Ulpin, as Meerkat came through the Door.

As the others joined them, Drake took stock of his situation. They were on a small, flat, sandy cay in the middle of a flat, glittering ocean. At the far end of the cay, some fifty paces distant, was a rowing boat turned on its side. A man rose from its shadows and strode toward them.'Who be he?' asked Whale Mike.'How the hell would I know?' said Jon Arabin, irritated.

The man closed with them, halting at twice sword-blade distance. He was a big, burly brute, a man of middle years with high cheekbones, dark eyes, big jug-handle ears, and a large nose with wide-flared nostrils.'Who you be?' asked Whale Mike.

'Who asks?' said the stranger, putting his hand to the hilt of his sword.

At that moment, a Penvash monster burst through the Door. Roaring it came, scraping its great armour-plated body through the steel arch. It started scrambling off the plinth, tripped, rolled, fell on its back, lay for a moment with belly exposed and the brutal stumps of its four claw-equipped legs kicking in the air-

Then kicked no more, for seven men had sunk swords into the softness of its belly.

'Kalman-chay,' said the stranger softly, using an expression unknown to the Galish Trading Tongue as he withdrew his bloody blade. 'Blood and water! What is it?'

'No member of my family, you can be sure of that,' said Jon Arabin, wiping his own blade.

A feeble tremor ran through the creature's legs. Arabin suspected it was not necessarily entirely dead. It was smaller than most of the Penvash monsters – otherwise it could not have forced itself through the Door.

'Come on,' said Arabin. 'Let's be getting while the getting's good. Mulps – lead the way, darling.'

'Sure, Jon, me pretty one,' said the Walrus. 'That I will.'

.Stepping through the Door, he vanished.'Where does this Door go to?' asked the stranger.'You know about Doors, do you?' said Jon Arabin.'Do bears shit in woods?' said the stranger.

'How would I know?' said Jon Arabin. 'They're not in my family either.'

Something strange came through the Door. What? Just a gust of leaves and smoke from the burning eucalyptus forest.

'This Door goes to hell for all I know,' said Arabin, once the last of his men was through. 'But I'm taking it!'And he jumped through himself.

The stranger hesitated for a moment – then two warriors jumped through, swords in hand. There was some vigorous hacking and slashing before both were disposed of. Then the stranger, not bothering to clean his blade, looked round, shrugged, and leaped through the Door.

They were, this time, in a landscape altogether different, dominated by a huge hell-hammering trench of flame which snaked through the landscape just to the north of them, an arrowshot across if it was a fingerlength.

The marble plinth here stood in the fringes of some tough, low-living forest dominated by dense drifts of gnarled trees with dark green spiked leaves which, on examination, were more like thorns than the pine needles they superficially resembled. Nearby was a tall tower, with an outcrop of fortifications at its base. A couple of leagues to the west stood another such tower, and, further west again and on the far (northern) side of the flame trench, a third.

Directly north, on the far side of the flame trench, rose a monstrous pink buttress of rock. Off to the east were some purple-coloured mountain-hills.

'Hell's name!' said Meerkat, raising his voice above the thunder of the flame trench, which shook the very ground. 'Where are we?'

'We're on the wrong side of Drangsturm,' said the stranger they had lately acquired on the ocean cay. 'We stand in the fringes of Defelfankarzosh, which means the Forest of Desolation. It is impassable, even to Southsearchers. The towers you see on our side of the flame trench are Nidbelzik and Torameer, the twin Pillars of Exile, unused now for generations. The rock north is Girik, which means Footstone.'

'How do you know all this?' said Arabin. 'Who are you?'

T have gone by many names in many places,' said the stranger. 'But know that I am truly Guest Gulkan, rightful ruler of Tameran.'

'Aye,' said Ish Ulpin boldly. 'But Tameran decided it couldn't be ruled by something which looked that bad-ugly.'And he laughed.

Drake ventured toward the flame trench, partly so he would be out of the way if Ish Ulpin came to blows with the stranger, partly so he could satisfy his curiosity.

At last, he was able to peer into the depths of Drangsturm, where whirlpools of molten red seethed and snapped. The rock of the nearest edge lay in ridged ropes, but on the far side it stood in regular masonry-blocks, albeit blocks of outlandish size. Drake smelt something burning. The soles of his boots! Ouch! That was hot! He retreated swiftly to the others.'-or can we walk it?'

Thus spoke Jon Arabin.

'Of course we can walk it, all things being equal,' said the stranger, Guest Gulkan, pretender to the realms of the Lord Emperor Khmar. 'After all, it's less than a hundred leagues from the Central Ocean to the Inner Waters.'

'But even if we reach the Castle of Controlling Power,' said Ika Thole, 'we'll be on the wrong side of Drangsturm.'

'You ignorant old pessimist!' said Drake. 'Have you never been to the castle? I have! There's bare basalt between the end of Drangsturm and the sea.''The lad speaks right,' said Guest Gulkan.

'Not about my age,' said Ika Thole. 'For I'm young still. Though this risk is like to age me to death by nightfall. Why walk those leagues when we've got the Door?'

'Known dangers are safer than an unknown Circle,' said Guest Gulkan.'Aye,' said Drake sagely.

He had his own reasons for wanting to get to the Castle of Controlling Power, even if it was half a hundred leagues away, give or take a bit. That was where he had last seen the high-breasted Zanya Kliedervaust, the love of his life. True, that was long, long ago – but some wizard would know where she had got to. Surely.

And there was the matter of magic liquor, too. Stuff like that he had sampled at Brennan. The cure for sobriety! In just a few days, he might, with luck, be raging on a real skull-splitting dog-vomiting drunk!

Belatedly, he remembered that a sentence of death awaited him if he reached the castle. But – a little matter like that? He'd handle it easily. Surely. He had his amulet still, didn't he? He'd buy his life from the wizards with that magic medallion.'Water,' said Rolf Thelemite.'Water,' said Guest Gulkan, meeting his gaze.