Philip Pullman: Once Upon a time in the North

'Yes, Mr Scoresby, I have.'

'And is it signed and countersigned?'

'It is.'

'Then, Mr Aagaard, I invite you to stand aside, sir, and let my client go about his lawful business.'

'I...this is not regular,' said the Harbour Master, whose cat-daemon was scratching at his leg to be picked up. He bent stiffly and carried her to his breast, where she hid her face. He went on, 'I know nothing of these

other laws, but Captain van Breda has not paid the duty on these articles, and

'Mr Harbour Master, just to save you any further trouble and embarrassment, I should remind you that the duty you refer to is a duty on importation and not on exportation, so in this case it doesn't apply. A simple and honest mistake for you to make. My client is willing to forgo any claims for compensation provided you release the goods at once from the warehouse. Furthermore, if it's a matter of duty payable and not a fee, as your own words before these fine and honest witnesses clearly indicated, then it's a Customs and Revenue matter, and the office of Customs is fully satisfied with Captain van Breda's right to move his cargo, and has no intention to levy any duty on it. Is that not so, Captain?'

'It is.'

'And do you have a letter to that effect?'

'Indeed I do.'

'Then there is no more to be said. Good day, Mr Aagaard, and we shall trouble you no further.'

'But...' the Harbour Master began unhappily, and then thought of something else. 'But that bear is wearing an illegal piece of armour, and he has no right to be on the quay.'

'A proper and reasonable response to unreasonable provocation, Mr Aagaard,' said Lee.

He stepped decisively forward, and the Harbour Master moved indecisively aside. The crowd had been still, trying to follow the arguments, and several of them looked less sure than they had been a minute before;

but Lee was more concerned about the little knot of men further along the quay. He knew the look of men like that.

'Nice piece of oratorical flamboyancy, Lee,' said Hester.

'Captain,' said Lee, 'you got any weapons on your ship?'

'I got one rifle. I never used it.'

'Ammunition?'

'Sure. But like I say, I never had to fire it.'

'You won't have to fire it. You bring me that rifle and I'll fire it if there's any firing to be done. Now if you began to load the cargo say within the next hour, could you leave with the tide like this?'

'The harbour is plenty deep. It will be fine.'

'That's good, because I might have to come with you. We both might. Now look out. These desperadoes are spoiling for an exchange of hot words. Say nothing and leave it to me. York Byrnison, once again I'd be obliged if you could cover the rear.'

The crowd had fallen back a little now, sensing that the mood of the events had changed, as Lee and the bear and the Captain walked on towards the five men who stood between them and the schooner. Hester was checking all around for other figures lurking in the alleys between the warehouses, or at a window above, or across the water on the west quay; for a handy shot with a good rifle could pick them off easily.

Lee was very conscious of the sound of their boots on the flagstoned quay, of the ceaseless scream of

seagulls, of the chugging of the steam crane across the water and the clank and crash of the great bucket as it unloaded coal from the hold of the tanker and dumped it in the wagons. Every separate sound was bright and clear, and Lee and Hester both heard the little click at the same moment. It was the sound of a revolver being cocked, and it came from up ahead, Lee thought; but \ tester's ears could pinpoint an ant on a blade of grass, and she said at once, 'Second man, Lee.'

The men were standing abreast in a line about fifteen yards ahead. Three of them were holding cudgels or sticks, but the other two had their hands behind their backs, and before Hester had finished saying 'Lee', Lee's pistol was in his hand and pointing straight at the second man from the left.

'You drop that gun right now,' Lee said. 'You just let go and let it fall behind you.'

The man had stiffened in surprise. He probably hadn't expected Lee to move so fast, and quite possibly no one had pointed a gun at him with intent before; he was just a boy no older than twenty. His eyes widened and he swallowed nervously before dropping the pistol.

'Now kick it over here,' Lee said.

The boy groped behind him with the toe of his boot and sent the pistol bouncing over the flagstones. The Captain bent to pick it up.

Then the man at the right of the line, the other man with his hands behind his back, did a stupid thing: he swung his right hand round and fired a shot from the big pistol he was holding.

But he didn't take time to aim properly, and the bullet went over Lee's head. The crowd behind screamed and scattered, but Lee had fired before the first cry arose, and his bullet caught the man's hip and spun him round so that he fell right at the edge of the quay, and then, unable to hold himself safe, he fell into the water, taking the gun with him. His cry was caught short by the splash.

Lee said to the other men, 'Now he's going to drown unless you pull him out. You don't want that on your conscience. Hurry up and do that, and get out of our way.'

He strode forward. The other men fell aside sullenly, and two of them slouched to the help of the man in the water, who was now splashing and shouting with pain and fear.

'Let me see that pistol, Captain,' said Lee, and the Captain handed it to him. It was a cheap and flimsy piece, and the barrel had bent when the boy dropped it. Anyone who fired it would be in danger of losing his hand. Lee tossed it into the water with regret, because he knew, in the moment he squeezed the trigger of his own revolver, that the cylinder had stuck for good. That was the one shot he was going to get.

'I'm going to need that rifle of yours real soon, Captain,' he said.

He put his gun back in the holster and looked around. The crowd behind was much bigger now, and the sounds had changed: across the water, the steam crane was still, the operator and the ship's crew staring across at the place where the shots had come from. In the absence of the clank and crash of the great bucket, Lee could hear the steady chugging of the dredger near the harbour mouth, and the excited murmur of the crowd behind.

The three of them moved on. They were not far from the schooner now, and Lee could see the crew gathered on the poop, watching wide-eyed as the little group made its way along the quay towards them.

But then one of them pointed at something back in the town, and the others shaded their eyes to look, and Hester said, 'Lee, you better look and see what's coming.'

By this time they were level with the stern of the ship, and opposite the last warehouse. A little alley ran between that and the one before it. Lee looked down the alley, looked up at the two rows of windows in the warehouse facade, looked across the harbour at the steam crane and the coal tanker, checking everything before looking back where Hester was indicating, and lie noticed the bear doing the same.

'What the hell is that?' said the Captain hoarsely.

A large machine powered by some kind of gas- engine was making its way along the waterfront, and turning on to the quay. In the moment or two Lee saw it in profile he remembered the model he'd seen the night before in the parlour behind the stage at the town hall - the model of the gas-gun the Larsen Manganese people had been showing off. It was monstrous. The steel wheels and the half-track behind were grinding

their way along the flagstones, and the crowd shrank back against the Harbour Master's office wall to make room for it.

'A gun?' said Iorek Byrnison.

'Yep,' said Lee.

'I do this.'