Hugh Cook - The Wicked and the Witless

'No,' said Lod, bitterly, 'it's but part of a ploy to free yourself from Selzirk. Why did you do it? Do you hate me? Or what?'

'I don't understand!' said Sarazin, dismayed. You called, I came. You petitioned Farfalla, you-'

'Dolt!' said Lod. Tvfo trial in Chenameg can start until every witness sought by the defence is on hand. Hence my petition. By demanding a witness forever unavailable I delayed my trial forever, my conviction forever, my execution forever. I made myself immortal! Till you damned me to trial then death.'

With that said, Lod began to weep. Helplessly. As tears ran down his jail-grimed face, Sarazin, dismayed, said: 'But I – how was I – I mean…'

You stupid sod,' said Lod. You stupid stupid sod. If you don't know the law, why not ask a lawyer? You suck- face fool! You've killed me!'

Sarazin's first thought was to flee from Shin to save Lod's life. So he sought an audience with King Lyra at which he said:

'My lord, it is not meet that I should dally here in Shin. Now that I have escaped the terrorists, duty compels me to Selzirk. There must I enlist with the army, for such is my doom, as all who know the Constitution of the Harvest Plains know well.'

"Nonsense, boy,' said King Lyra. You must stay for Lod's trial, for he wants you as a witness. We've scheduled it for after the Phoenix Festival.' The Phoenix Festival?' said Sarazin. Ten days of song, dance, feasting and poetry,' said King

Lyra. 'It starts on Midwinter's Day. We have hunting, too. Excellent hunting.'

'If it's going to be so long before the trial starts,' said Sarazin, 'surely I could go to Selzirk now then return after Midwinter's Day.'

'Oh no,' said King Lyra, shaking his head. 'Lod's lawyers will want you on hand from now till then to help prepare your testimony. No, I forbid it. You must stay here.'

'But,' said Sarazin, 'what if those in Selzirk think me lingering here in deliberate dereliction of my military duty?'

Your brother Celadon is here as military attache to the embassy your countrymen maintain in our fair city. Ill send him home with tidings of your fate. Thus Selzirk will know you are held here by my decree, not by your own choice.' "May I speak with the ambassador himself?' said Sarazin.

'Impossible,' said King Lyra, 'for the ambassador is dead of a fever. Relax, young man, relax. No harm will come to you from this adventure.'

'I fear,' said Sarazin, trying one last move, 'that the terrorists who plucked me from Selzirk will seize me here in Shin. I was lucky to escape from them the first time. I doubt I'd manage it twice.'

'I've thought of that already,' said King Lyra. 'By my command, Thodric Jarl remains in Shin as your body- guard. With thirty of the finest fighters of Selzirk's Watch to guard you he'll keep you safe enough.'

Well! Sean Sarazin had certainly tried. On realising his presence doomed Lod to defeat and death, he'd done his level best to quit Shin. But King Lyra had made that impossible. So what could he do but make the best of a bad thing?

He resolved to get on with the business which had really inspired him to come to Shin in the first place. To seduce Amantha (and marry her), to kill Tarkal (and perhaps King Lyra as well) and set himself up as king of Chenameg.

He would strike at Lod's trial, after midwinter. The trial would bring all Chenameg's dignitaries together, so Sarazin could capture all in a coup. King Lyra had but two dozen men of arms serving under him, and those were of dubious quality. Since Sarazin commanded (or thought he commanded) the loyalty of Thodric Jarl and the men of the Watch, the weight of numbers appeared to be on his side already. He would also, of course, have the advantage of surprise.

King Sarazin. It had such a nice ring to it that he could hardly wait. King Sarazin? Perhaps he should use his new name and style himself King Watashi. That sounded even better!

CHAPTER TWENTY With literacy hath no trivia its termination For print preserves all paltriness forever; With literacy can no man recall his paradiso Or conjure forth the glories with his tongue. Thus Talaman said of the librarians: 'Kill them, lest they mute us.' Quite rightly.

– Arez Stone, 'With Literacy'

'He's coarse,' said Hanny, peering at Sarazin through one of the spyholes cut in her fan. 'He's incredibly conceited,' said Jilth, giggling.

'He amuses me,' said Amantha, fanning herself lightly. 'For the moment.' 'He has no breeding whatsoever!' said Flanny. 'Neither,' said Amantha, "has my parrot. Yet both amuse.'

Sarazin was a novelty, hence – for the moment – fashionable. Novelty was in season, for it was Midwinter's

Day, the start of the Phoenix Festival. To the delight of all, the winter rains had taken a rest, and the day was graced with sunshine. Everyone consented to ignore the mud.

By way of preliminary entertainment, they listened to the famous Arez Stone, a wild-eyed ancient with flowing beard and glittering eye, who held that literacy was the cause of all social evils.

To prove his point. Stone had elaborated his thesis in some 5,037 cantos in 473 different languages (some dead, some living, some three-parts missing), and planned to write a further 4,761 cantos before he dropped dead. Unfortunately, Stone's wisdom would inevitably die with him, since he refused to allow his productions to be written down, and nobody but himself could master the memorising of his epic productions.

After Stone had finished (he had been restricted to a recital of a mere two of his cantos) two minor poets performed. Then all gathered in the grounds of the Phoenix Temple where they were to watch the arrival of the phoenix itself, which was due at noon.

Once the phoenix used to arrive in Chenameg on Midsummer's Day. But, thanks to a curse put upon the land during the War of the Witches, it now arrived on the coldest, shortest day of the year, which of course considerably reduced the potential of the occasion as a tourist attraction.

The audience awaiting that arrival first had to listen to a scholarly dissertation by King Lyra, who was endeavouring to prove that the phoenix is in fact a reptile (though every reputable treatise available names it as a bird).

Sarazin was troubled to find himself profoundly bored by the king's dissertation. Maybe there was some ineluct- able flaw in his character which prevented him from appreciating truly aristocratic intellectual pursuits.

At last, the king finished. Sarazin breathed a sigh of relief – then felt ashamed of himself. As it was noon, they all looked around for the phoenix. 'Why hasn't it come?' said Sarazin.

'It only does this once in every half a thousand years,' said Amantha, 'so maybe it's having trouble remembering the way.'

Sarazin wondered whether Phoenix Day was going to be another crushing disappointment – like the city of Shin, which had proved to be a dismal lumber town with unpaved streets and gloomy high-gabled wooden build- ings. However, at last the bird of wonder came flying in from the east. It looked very much like a stork, except its feathers were every colour of the rainbow. Where does it live?' asked Sarazin.

'Somewhere in the dragonlands,' said Amantha, 'Ssh! Watch!'

She had spoken too late. People were already staring at them. Sarazin realised he had made a faux pas. He was acutely embarrassed. What he really needed in this place was a reliable guide to courtly behaviour whom he could consult in private. In that respect, Thodric Jarl had proved a total disappointment.

What was the phoenix doing? Circling overhead. Was it supposed to go round in circles? Maybe it had heard him speak. Maybe he had scared it off. Then what would happen to him?

To Sarazin's relief, after another half-dozen circles the phoenix landed on the altar of the Temple. There was a glitter like water on diamonds as it burst into flames. Incandescent, it writhed in an uproarious conflagration.