Hugh Cook - The Wicked and the Witless

Sean Sarazin had two questions which needed urgent answers.

First: why had Selzirk's mob tried for his blood? Second: did his mother still live? 'Glambrax!' said Sarazin, 'find me Farfalla!' But the dwarf, who had been trotting at his heels but a moment before, had vanished himself.

Drangsturm: flame trench guarded by Confederation of Wizards. Lies 500 leagues south of Selzirk. Runs length of narrow isthmus between Inner Waters (to the east) and Central Ocean (to the west). Divides Argan North from terror-lands of the Deep South where lurk the monsters of the Swarms.

Sean Sarazin had failed.

He had pursued his ambition relentlessly, had won his princess and his kingdom, and then had lost both. He had only been saved from deadly peril by a legal technicality. How humiliating! Could he still succeed?

Could he still be a hero triumphant, a conqueror, a leader of men, a ruler, a king? Could he – to come right down to specifics – regain the throne of Chenameg which Tarkal had stolen from him? Perhaps.

If he quested to the terror-lands, found the tectonic lever and threw it then he would be a hero true. With such heroic status, a few mercenaries and a good public relations expert surely he could seize and retain the throne of Chenameg.

The beauty of the plan was that the Harvest Plains would be unable to interfere with such an ambition, for if he threw the tectonic lever then Selzirk's lands would be drowned by the Central Ocean. But how would he find the lever? He had never formally researched the subject but, nevertheless, was aware that precious little was known of the geography of the terror-lands south of Drangsturm.

Besides, the more he thought about it, the more the notion of throwing the tectonic lever seemed absurd. A criminal madness, even. To sink Argan? To drown the Harvest Plains? To kill people by the million? Impossible to justify! He had been taught by Lord Regan that ambition was good: good for the individual, good for the world. But there were exceptions to every rule.

Yet he had sworn himself already to the quest. At his wedding with Amantha he had taken an oath to go questing for the tectonic lever. He had no choice!

'Stop talking nonsense,' said Thodric Jarl, when Sarazin spoke to him about it. "You did not swear to find the tectonic lever, or to throw it. Your vow was to go on the traditional quest undertaken by all heirs of Chenameg.' 'But that is-'

'Is to quest until wounded, and no further. Surely you got a couple of scratches or such between arrest in Shin and safety here.'

Sarazin thought Jarl would have made a good lawyer, but dared not venture an insult so unpardonable. Instead, he said:

You call this safety? The mob has stormed the palace once. Why not twice?'

'Mobs cannot be roused to anger on a daily basis,' said Jarl.

Yet the mob attacked once,' said Sarazin, 'so surely hates me fiercely.' 'The mob hates Farfalla more than you,' said Jarl. 'Farfalla?' said Sarazin, puzzled. 'But why?'

'Because she perverted justice for her family's benefit,' said Jarl. 'I don't understand,' said Sarazin.

'Did you think your judge botched his sentencing by chance?' said Jarl. 'No. Qolidian wasn't made governor of Androlmarphos by accident. That was a bribe.' 'Did – did Farfalla tell you this?' said Sarazin.

'I've not asked her about it,' said Jarl. 'But share my opinion with all Selzirk. How else did Qolidian become governor?'

Sarazin, seeing the inescapable logic of this, was profoundly shaken by this proof of his own ignorance. Shortly, pursuing the truth to the death, he challenged his mother over the matter.

'Of course I bribed Qolidian,' said Farfalla. 'Everyone knows it. Everyone! The people, the courts, the Regency, Lord Regan of the Rice Empire, yes, and the pirates of the Greater Teeth for all I know. My credibility is zero.' 'Will the Regency… will they…?'

What?' said Farfalla. 'Impeach me? Over this? No. They can prove nothing. They'd lose in the courts. But, Sarazin my son – watch yourself! Before, they merely suspected you of ambition. Now they have proof of it. Sean Sarazin, king of Chenameg -, what on earth were you thinking of?'

"Myself,' sard Sarazin simply. "My duty to myself. To be what I can be.'

'At what expense to others?' said Farfalla. 'Do you realise what you've cost me? Leaving aside that-'

What followed was another long, exquisitely painful lecture. From which Sean Sarazin learnt at least a tem- porary caution. Thus when certain members of the Watch approached him directly – having given up hope of getting to him through Thodric Jarl – he rebuffed them.

In his new mood of caution he did not trust anyone from the Watch, even though it was members of that organi- sation who had defended him when the mob rioted. He did report the approach to Jarl who commended him for his caution.

"Your one task at the moment is to get fit,' said Jarl. 'So you're ready for whatever position Imbleprig wins for you.'

'What are you talking about?' said Sarazin. 'Imbleprig is but a lawyer. How can he win me position?'

'So you've not been told,' said Jarl. 'Well then, listen, and a tale I will unfold…'

Thus Sarazin learnt that his entanglement with the law was not yet over. Childermass Imbleprig was seeking damages to compensate Sarazin for having been wrong- fully sentenced. Imbleprig sought not just money for his client but status and position as well.

'For,' argued Imbleprig, 'my client has been victim of such a cruel injustice that unless the court intervenes it will be impossible for him to fulfil his talent and follow the career which should by rights have been his.'

Imbleprig laid it on so thick that Sarazin was positively embarrassed. Sarazin, in his innocence, fully expected the court to throw out his case on the grounds of its patent absurdity. But, as it happened, the intricacies of the Constitution, the details of law and regulation made since and the court rulings on the seventy-seven relevant precedents were all on Sarazin's side.

Midsummer's Day arrived, initiating the year Alliance 4326. Sarazin, reminded by his mother, did his duty to the sungod. And his court case continued.

After much palaver, the court ruled that Sarazin had indeed been grievously wronged, and was therefore due for compensation. The court declared that the state must pay Sarazin's legal costs and, furthermore, give him a position of high responsibility. It directed the Regency to see that this was done.

There followed a secret conference of the Regency after which Plovey, spokesman for the Regency and one of the most powerful players in the politics of Selzirk, approached Sarazin to offer him command of an army tasked with destroying marauders presently active near the source of the Shouda Flow.

'These invaders,' said Plovey, 'are pretending to be barbarians from the Marabin Erg, but our spies tell us they are in fact from the Rice Empire.'

'No matter,' said Sarazin. 'I'll harry them hard then drive them south with their heads between their legs.'

"With their what?' said Plovey, not quite understanding this foreign idiom.

'Never mind,' said Sarazin. 'What I'm saying is that I'll do the job. How many troops do I have?'

'Five hundred horse,' said Plovey. 'But we're thinking of increasing the number by adding some infantry.'

Indeed, the Regency was thinking very hard. It shortly made a public announcement to the effect that there would be a pardon for anyone in prison who would march with Sean Kelebes Sarazin as a foot soldier. This met with an enthusiastic response from the prisoners, and every convicted pickpocket, rapist, perjurer and cock-cutter in Selzirk flocked to Sarazin's banner.

Sarazin, meanwhile, had discovered to his dismay that the five hundred cavalrymen who formed the core of his army were the remnants of the notorious Kelebes mutiny. Judging by their reputation, they would be more dangerous to him than the enemy.