Hugh Cook - The Witchlord and the Weaponmaster

"So he says, so he says," said Lord Onosh. "But I'm sure he was never the heir to an empire."

"What's that got to do with it?" said Eljuk.

At this, Lord Onosh looked fit to overheat and explode, in the manner of one of those notorious pressure cookers with which Pelagius Zozimus once experimented.

"You can't just throw away an empire," said Lord Onosh in great distress. "You can't just throw it away, just like that!"

But Eljuk could, and did, and had. For Ontario Nol, the great wizard of Itch who had lived for so long as abbot of Qonsajara and as ruler of the uplands of Ul-donlok, had tempted young Eljuk with prospects of knowledge, and insight, and arcane power, and life prolonged for millennia. This temptation had proved potent, for the scholarly Eljuk had no desire to be the lord of the sweat of ten thousand horses or the grease of an equal number of virginal vaginas, or to possess any of those other most useless and uncouth material goods which typically appeal to your average Yarglat barbarian.

So Eljuk abandoned an empire, choosing wizardry instead.

And Eljuk could not be dissuaded from his choice.

Lord Onosh had little time in which to attempt dissuasion, for Guest was conscious of the passage of time, and knew that he was growing short of this commodity. The Battle of Babaroth had been fought in the heat of high summer, and it had been hot summer still when Guest had defeated his father at Volvo Marp by making an ally out of an avalanche; but the season was rapidly advancing, and soon it would be autumn. Guest Gulkan remembered the winter journey which had seen him journey from Gendormargensis to an unwelcome exile on the island of Alozay. For a few people, well-equipped and well-clad, that winter passage had proved feasible. But Guest fancied that a thousand spears would be hard-put to scavenge a bare living for themselves on such a passage through snow and ice.

The rations which Guest had earlier looted from his father's baggage train and portaged into the mountains were running short; by no stretch of imagination could the mountains themselves feed his army; and so he was determined to be back in Gendormargensis before winter set in.

Being so determined, Guest Gulkan said a fond farewell to his brother Eljuk, and ordered his army to prepare for a march to the lowlands, the lowlands where the sun was exercising its strength in one last bravado display of luxurious heat.

Lord Onosh begged for leave to stay in Qonsajara, swearing that he would live out his life peacefully in the mountains of Ibsen-Iktus. But Guest was not fool enough to believe his father, so took the man with him, that man being still symbolically imprisoned with golden chains. Jarl likewise went as a prisoner.

Eljuk stayed. The text-master Eldegen Terzanagel wanted to stay, but Ontario Nol refused him house room. Nevertheless, Nol extended a hospitable mercy to a couple of poor fellows who were dying of tuberculosis, and to a witless fool who had broken his leg in five different places by attempting that suicidal activity known as mountain climbing. But the rest of the army marched.

Thus it came to pass that Eljuk Zala Gulkan, eldest son of the Witchlord Onosh Gulkan, stayed behind in the monastery of Qonsajara. And the bold Guest Gulkan said farewell to the wizard Ontario Nol and began his return journey to the Collosnon Empire, taking his father with him as a prisoner. Guest marched his men down the valley in force, hoping to provoke a minor war with King Igpatan. But that minor village lord wisely kept his fighting men away from Guest Gulkan's line of march, and let Guest loot as many chickens as he chose as he marched down to the shores of the Swelaway Sea. Guest then marched along those shores to the village of Ink, where he began to bethink himself of the boat-salesman Umbilskimp, who had once sold him a rotten boat. Guest had sworn to hang the fellow, and remained true to the resolution of his oath.

"But," said Guest to Sken-Pitilkin, "I do not want to give my biographer excuse to slander me. I wish to rule in justice, and to be seen to do as much."

"Then perhaps," said Sken-Pitilkin, "you may have to forego the pleasures of a hanging."

This was not the advice which Guest had expected to receive.

He had expected Sken-Pitilkin to show him some means whereby he could hang the unfortunate Umbilskimp out of hand while still maintaining his good standing in the eyes of his biographer.

Thrown back on his own resources of cunning, the Weaponmaster Guest soon schemed up a plot which was adequate to his purpose. He called for his slow-witted brother, Morsh Bataar.

"Morsh," said Guest. "I want you to ride ahead to the village of Ink. Say nothing of my army. Say that you speak for a party of merchants from the Ibsen-Iktus mountains. Say that you wish to buy boats, boats for a trip to Alozay. Three boats, four, whatever the money will stretch to."

Then Guest gave his brother gold, and sent him ahead with three stout fellows who would act as both bodyguards and witnesses.

By the time Guest Gulkan marched his army into Ink, his brother Morsh had successfully purchased five boats with the money which Guest had given him.

"Who sold you these boats?" said Guest.

"I bought them from Umbilskimp, Pedrick and Mung," said Morsh. "The three are confederated in a boat-selling partnership."

"Very well," said Guest. "Identify them! Then have them arrested!"

"Arrested?" said Morsh in astonishment. "But they sold me the boats, just as you wanted. I though you wanted to go to Alozay."

"No!" said Guest. "Alozay is the least and last of the places I want to go to!"

That was not entirely the truth, for Guest still thought often of Icaria Scaria Iva-Italis, the demon who guarded the stairway at the eastern end of Alozay's Hall of Time. Guest was still minded to go to Alozay. To pact with the demon Iva-Italis.

To rescue the Great God Jocasta from imprisonment in Obooloo's Temple of Blood. And to have himself made a wizard as a reward for the rescue. All this he would do – one day. But clearly he should first look to the security of the Collosnon Empire, for then the rest could be easily accomplished.

"So," said Morsh, soberly. "You lied to me. You didn't need boats at all."

"Lied to you!" said Guest, in outrage. "I made you an instrument of justice, that's what I did! Arrest those men, and I'll prove it to you!"

So Umbilskimp, Pedrick and Mung were arrested, and Guest set himself about organizing a proper trial which would prove his merits to his biographer.

The captive Lord Onosh was made judge of the case, which was prosecuted by the slug-chef Pelagius Zozimus, who went about his business with an uncommonly gleeful display of zeal. The text- master Eldegen Terzanagel was made defense counsel. Guest Gulkan,

Rolf Thelemite, Thodric Jarl and Hostaja Torsen Sken-Pitilkin testified for the prosecution. Morsh Bataar also gave evidence, and the boats he had so recently bought were hauled from the water to be examined by the court.

In this manner, Umbilskimp, Pedrick and Mung were given a proper trial before an independent judge. It was quick – it was all over in a single morning – but it was fair. It was proved that Umbilskimp had once sold a murderously rotten boat to Guest Gulkan and his comrades; that Mung had likewise deceitfully sold a hulk to Thodric Jarl.

As for the boats so recently sold to Morsh Bataar by the tripartite partnership, why, the belly of each proved as soft as a slug.

"So," said the slug-chef Zozimus, prosecuting his case to the hilt, "here we see nothing more nor less than organized murder undertaken for commercial gain. These men have years of boat- selling expertise behind them, therefore cannot plead ignorance.

They have made a career out of selling rotten hulks fit for nothing more than sinking. I demand the death penalty!"