Hugh Cook: The Wordsmiths and the Warguild

And he pulled down one eyelid in a very suggestive gesture.

"Oh," said the baron, losing interest.

He turned away and set off for the Suets. He would challenge them and find out where they had hidden his son. If the Suets failed to yield up Togura, then there might be feuding about this.

Within the Wordsmiths' organisation the ranks, from lowest to highest, were:

1. servitor;

2. scribe;

3. translator;

4. wordmaster;

Brother Troop was a wordmaster. As befitted his rank, he wore a multicoloured harlequin robe and felt slippers. He was a short, bouncing, jovial man with a ready smile which showed him to be both pleased with himself and pleased with the world. He wore much of his worldly wealth beneath his skin, but Togura, after his recent encounter with Slerma, could not bring himself to describe the Brother as fat.

"So you're the hero," said Brother Troop, rubbing his hands together.

"I suppose I am," said Togura, with some surprise.

He had been given a change of clothes and the chance to cleanse himself of monster muck, but he was still a little disorientated.

"Ahaha!" said Brother Troop, not quite laughing and not quite not. "You suppose you are. Of course you are! The vigour of the very young. Amazing, isn't it?" And he touched his nose. "Youth is a wonderful thing."

"You're not so old yourself," said Togura.

"Perhaps not, but I was never as wild as you. I was born sensible. And more's the pity. A great handicap, I think. All power to the brave and reckless, eh? Hey? Ahaha! Come, I'll show you around."

"Well, really, I'd – "

"Later," said Brother Troop, giving him to chance to say that he'd really like a little to eat, a little to drink and a lot to sleep. Instead, the good Brother swept him away on a whirlwind tour which took him through the kitchens – too quickly, alas – sleeping quarters, lecture rooms, study rooms, dungeons and cloisters, and then to the main courtyard of the Wordsmiths' stronghold.

"Here's where it all happens," said Brother Troop. "And that, my son, is the odex."

"That?"

"Believe me. You stand in the Presence."

The odex was a thin grey disk; Togura could just have spanned its diameter with his outstretched arms. Seen side-on, it appeared to disappear entirely. Seen from an angle, it acted as a mirror, reflecting the surroundings.

"Stand in front of it," said Brother Troop.

Togura moved round in front of the odex, which hung in the air, standing knee-high off the ground without any apparent means of support. As he came directly in front of it, the mirror surface broke into discordant cascades of colour and light. These shimmered, swirled, stretched, contracted and pulsed.

"Is it angry?" said Togura warily.

At his words, a puff of red mist broke loose from the surface of the odex. It twirled lazily in the air.

"Who knows?" said Brother Troop.

At his question, the red mist broke apart with a sound like a breaking harp string; a dozen bubbles of bright light frolicked out of the odex and began chasing each other through the air. Similar manifestations and dispersions continued as the two spoke together.

"Where do these things come from?" said Togura.

"From the odex, of course. You can see that for yourself."

"Is it dreaming?" asked Togura.

"No," said Brother Troop, uncertainly; it had never occurred to him that the odex might dream. "We don't think it dreams. We don't really think it's alive. After years of study, we've come to think that it's like a knife. It means neither good nor ill. If it cuts, that's due to our clumsiness. We don't think it dreams – or gets angry."

"But it sent you the monster," said Togura. "Why did it do that?"

"It does nothing on its own," said Brother Troop. "Left to its own devices, it just sits there meditating. We speak. We summon. We call things from its infinite resources."

"Then how did you summon the monster?" said Togura.

"By accident."

"Could you summon another?"

"Only be another accident. You see – "

A tangle of spiderweb came floating out of the odex. Brother Troop knocked it aside with a casual sweep of his hand. It grabbed hold of him, battened onto his flesh and began to feed. It hurt. His senses demolished by pain, Brother Troop fell to the ground, flailing at the invader. Togura helped him destroy it. They succeeded, but there was a violent red rash on the wordmaster's hand where the web had been feeding.

"Look!" said Brother Troop.

Overhead floated an ilps. It was a large one, mostly teeth, horns and trailing tentacles. It had just escaped from the odex.

"Who are you?" shouted Brother Troop.

But the ilps was nimble. It floated fast and high, soaring up and over the roof and out of sight.

"Let's go inside," said Brother Troop. "We've endured the Presence quite enough for one day."

At his words, there was a roar. Both of them jumped. But, fortunately, the odex had not generated another monster. Just the roar of a monster.

Inside, Togura asked a question:

"Why does questioning destroy an ilps?"

"Because every ilps is anomalous," said Brother Troop. "They don't belong in our world. We don't think they belong anywhere. They're birthed at random by the odex every time we excite it. Make the anomalous question its own nature, and it destroys itself."

"How do we excite the odex?"

"By the use of words, young man. You should have guessed that much from what you've seen today."

"Then what words do what?"

"Different words do different things. That's for certain. But our real problem is that the same words also do different things every time they're used."

"Hmmm."

"Very much hummm! Marry a woman who doesn't speak your language, and you'll be chatting away merrily in less than a year. Our conversation with the odex began in my father's day. We still don't know how to say hello."

"At this rate you never will," said Togura. "So why bother?"

"Because of the treasure, my boy. The treasure!"

Brother Troop took him to the treasury so he could see. A day's conversation with the odex would usually produce at least one real, solid, genuine piece of treasure.

By the time they reached the treasury, Togura was eagerly expecting to see miracles. He was bitterly disappointed by the motley assortment of oddments which was actually on view.

"This is it?" he said.

"Won with great pain, my boy," said Brother Troop. "Won with great pain."

There were two lightweight diamond-shaped objects with holes in them – possibly buttons, and possibly not. There was a disk of think metal stamped with concentric circles; it had jagged edges, and was rusting. There was a pale, slightly translucent object, very thin and sharp, about the length of a finger, which Togura was almost certain was a fishbone.

Next there was a curious square box, blue in colour, which was riddled with holes. Togura was about to explore the holes with his fingers when Brother Troop slapped his hand down.

"No, my boy, don't do that. Brother Dorban lost a finger to that little box."

Togura stared into the holes and saw a wavering ever-changing light inside. The box was humming.

"I'll tell yo9u one thing for certain," he said. "You'll never find out what this is for."

"Ah, my boy," beamed Brother Troop. "We know already. It's an insect trap. It lures them and kills them – or, at least, they go inside and they're never seen again. Fleas, flies, cockroaches – it doesn't discriminate. Leave your clothes by the box overnight, and they'll be free of lice by daybreak."

There were more things. A pile of old rags. A curious stone globe which appeared to be filled with stars. Some objects made of lead which might have been said to imitate the shape of knucklebones. A length of strong, translucent green cord which appeared to be made all of one seamless piece; it was slippery, and difficult to knot. A stone adze, bearing cryptic markings in paint. A friable, lumpy grey object which Togura was far too polite to identify as a rather old and shabby dog turd.