Hugh Cook - The Witchlord and the Weaponmaster

Hence Guest was very much concerned to find out where

Penelope was, and what had happened to her. But Plandruk Qinplaqus was entirely unmoved by Guest's concerns.

"Penelope is of no account," said Qinplaqus. "We have greater matters to worry about."

"Yes!" said Guest, with a flash of animation. "The business of the Banks! Now that we have the x-x-zix – "

"We're not yet ready to take on the Banks," said Qinplaqus.

"But," protested Guest, "you said, you promised – "

"Guest," said his father, trying to shut him up.

"No," said Qinplaqus. "Our young friend is right to press his case. The Banks have sorely offended him, just as they have offended me."Guest was momentarily hard put to think what offence the Banks might have given Qinplaqus. Then he recalled that Banker Sod had imprisoned Qinplaqus in a time pod on Alozay, meantime fomenting revolution in Dalar ken Halvar in the hope of adding that city to his own possessions. But – what was a trifling matter of imprisonment compared to the far greater damage which Guest had suffered?

"You acknowledge my rights," said Guest, "but I'm not sure that you acknowledge my impatience."

"In this case," said Qinplaqus, "remedy may not lie in my province, even if acknowledgement does."

"What are you riddling about?" said Guest.

"Have you heard," said Qinplaqus, "of an entity known as Shabble?"

"Shabble?" said Guest. "Why, yes, I have heard of, uh,

Shabble. But – here? Is Shabble here, here in – in – "

In his stumble-tongued confusion, Guest found he had temporarily mislaid the very name of the city in which he was presently stationed. An unlikely mishap, one might think! But when one travels the Doors of a Circle, one can skip continents in an instant, and it sometimes happens that the mind is left behind in one city while the body is in another.

"No," said Qinplaqus. "Shabble is not here in Dalar ken Halvar. Shabble is on Alozay."

And Guest almost fell from his chair with the shock of sheer surprise.

Name: Shabble.

Place of Manufacture: Nadokov (a city on the planet Sendak

IV, a part of the Musorian Empire).

Occupation: High Priest of the Cult of Cockroach.

Status: messiah.

Description: a full-sized sun contained in its own miniature cosmos, and linked to the worlds of human action by means of a transponder the size of a fist.

Hobbies: ventriloquism; the making of music.

Quote: "Loneliness, loneliness, that's the worst thing. Be kind to the cockroach and you'll never be lonely, that's as firm as a promise."

Of Shabble's genesis and of Shabble's true nature no certain account can be given. But one thing is sure. This free-floating globular pyrotechnist was intrinsically more irresponsible than a sea dragon – which is saying something! – and was potentially far more dangerous.

Therefore, on hearing that Shabble was on Alozay – Alozay, of all places! – Guest Gulkan was much disturbed.

"Alozay!" said Guest.

The Witchlord Onosh then demanded to know who Shabble was – and what might this personage be doing on Alozay.

Then Guest explained that Shabble was a playful ball he had met on Untunchilamon, a ball which could shine at will with a brightness fit to rival that of the sun itself, and which could fly. Lord Onosh, who was inclined to doubt the truthfulness of this intelligence, then demanded to know the full story of Guest's travels on Untunchilamon, of which he had heard but the barest fragments since his liberation from a time pod in Obooloo's Temple of Blood.

"Well," said Guest, "it's, it's a long story."

"Then suppose you hurry up and start it," said his father,

"because the day's getting shorter by the moment."

But Guest was reluctant to begin, for he had no idea how he could possibly go about telling the full story of his exploits on Untunchilamon. For so many things had happened on that distant tropical island, and to explicate those happenings would require the telling of a tale so tangled that Guest could not so much as sort it out in his own head.

In truth, the Weaponmaster felt like someone who has been embroiled in a riot, and is put to the difficulty of reconstructing its events in the cold light of day for the satisfaction of a court of law. When one is placed in such a situation, it is very difficult to imagine that one ran around without any trousers, assisted in the skinning of a tax collector then proceeded to the local temple to have intimate connections with its vestal virgins.

Just as a person put in such a predicament is hard put to know where to begin their explanations, so too was Guest beset with perplexion when his father challenged him to outline that part of his history. Indeed, the Weaponmaster's hesitation was so great that Plandruk Qinplaqus was moved to violate the norms of civilized behavior by using his powers as a wizard of Ebber to look inside Guest's mind.

The Weaponmaster did not notice this wizardly intrusion into the intimacies of his psyche, hence did not resist it; but, despite the lack of resistance, Qinplaqus got no profit from his adventure. For Guest's mind was a moiling confusion in which images of Penelope's nakedness were entangled with sharks, dungeons, coral reefs, fireflies, mosquitoes, monkeys, coconuts, the claws of a crab and the shadow of a bablobrokmadorni stick, the leering teeth of Bao Gahai and (sheer randomness, this) a memory of a long-ago day on the island of Spradley Rock, which had been converted to one gigantic scrub-bath by the invasion of a horde of Yarglat barbarians.

Only Guest himself could possibly be the equal of sorting out such a mess, so, Power having failed, Qinplaqus resorted to interrogation.

"The salient points," said Qinplaqus "Uh, myself and the wizards," said Guest, "we ventured to Untunchilamon."

This brief preamble served to offend Thayer Levant, who considered that he had been an equal partner in that venture, and was aggrieved at being overlooked. Of course, Levant was being unrealistic, for a man does not say "I and my servant went venturing" any more than he says "I and my walking stick went venturing" – but his hurt was genuine, even if it was totally unreasonable.

"So," said Qinplaqus, "what did you find on Untunchilamon?"

"A therapist," said Guest. "A therapist, a dorgi, a Crab, a conjurer, a large number of bad-tempered sorcerers, the analytical engine, a madhouse, a slaughterhouse, a dosshouse… that's about it. Oh, and Shabble."

"What about a Cockroach?" said Qinplaqus.

"A cockroach?" said Guest in puzzlement, wondering if the Silver Emperor was at last lapsing into outright senility.

"Yes, yes, a Cockroach!" said Qinplaqus. "A Cockroach which commanded the worship of men, yes, and women too, and dogs cats and monkeys for all I know!"

"Oh," said Guest, belatedly remembering. "Yes, there was a Cockroach. It was a god, at least that's what Shabble said, and there were tax advantages – but that was long ago, and in a different country, and the insect must be dead by now."

"It is not dead," said Qinplaqus. "It is an immortal god which successively reincarnates itself in a series of cockroach bodies."

"Are you – are you then a worshipper?" said Guest, wondering if he had mortally offended the Ashdan's piety.

"No!" said Qinplaqus, hammering his pelican-headed walking stick against the floor. "I have no time for this trifling nonsense! But the problem with nonsense is that it becomes serious when enough people believe in it. Shabble and Shabble's god have installed themselves on Alozay. And this – "

"A god!" said Lord Onosh, interrupting with intemperate force. "Since when is a cockroach a god?"

"Oh, many things can be gods," said Qinplaqus. "Why, this walking stick of mine was once a god in its own right, though it is a god no longer. So. As I was saying, the world's worst nonsense must be taken seriously if enough people believe in it.