Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

‘Well, we’ve been away quite a time,’ Dacu said thoughtfully. ‘But keeping rats wasn’t common when we left.’

Ghreel looked unconvinced. His story had to make its full way out.

‘Vicious little swine it was. And teeth like I’ve never seen on any animal before.’ He made a futile effort to straighten up and draw his stomach in. ‘Mind you, my dogs would’ve had it if I hadn’t taken them in hand.’ He frowned. ‘And I had to, I can tell you.’ He indicated two large dogs asleep in the corner. Dacu nodded understandingly. ‘Rest assured, landlord, we’ve no rats or any other pets with us that you might need your dogs for. And if I hear of anyone coming this way I’ll advise them to leave their rats outside.’

This began to impinge. Ghreel’s face crumpled into a scowl. Dacu intercepted the pending reproach by standing up and taking his arm in a companionable manner. ‘I understand. You’ve a business to run here. Obviously you can’t have strange animals wandering in and out as they feel like it. It’d soon get the place a bad name. What was the man like? There aren’t many of us up there, as you might have gathered from the number who come here, so we might know him. We can speak to him about it if we see him.’

Partly mollified, Ghreel described the offending customer, concluding with, ‘And he’d a big hat, even though the sun was belting down.’

Dacu’s expression of recognition was not feigned. Nor was Tirke’s. ‘And the rat?’ Dacu pressed. ‘Are you sure it was a rat?’

Ghreel scowled again, though this time in thought. ‘He said it was a welci, or flooky, or something.’

‘A felci?’ Dacu suggested.

Ghreel nodded grimly. ‘Still looked like a rat to me.’ A fat finger prodded the table. ‘And I don’t want any more. You tell him, if you see him.’

‘I certainly will.’

‘And tell him I wasn’t impressed by that trick he did.’

‘Trick?’

‘Making it look as if it could talk.’

Dacu raised an eyebrow. The finger prodded the table again, then indicated the doorway. ‘Just when they were leaving. Stood on its hind legs over by the counter next door, thanked me for the meal, then laughed.’ He snorted scornfully. ‘Told me he was a teacher. Lying sod. If you ask me he was just another street clown who hadn’t the nous to make a living here and went scuttling home. Tell him I’ve seen better acts washing dishes. Him and his talking rat.’

‘We’ll be sure to mention you didn’t appreciate it if we run into him,’ Dacu said, signalling to the others to leave. ‘Was he heading back north?’

Jowls shook in indignant dismissal. ‘How would I know where he was going? He had some halfwit with him. I think he went north.’

In the courtyard, as they mounted, Dacu and Tirke looked at one another.

‘Atelon,’ they said, at the same time.

‘And Dar-volci, I’ll wager,’ Dacu added. ‘He wouldn’t be able to resist a parting jibe at the likes of our friend in there. What in the name of mercy were they doing out here? And who’s this “halfwit” he’s got with him?’

‘You know this “northerner” with his talking rat?’ Nertha asked.

‘It sounds like an old friend of ours,’ Tirke replied. Suddenly he was quite serious. ‘Atelon’s a Cadwanwr. He’s probably only about my age, but he’s lifetimes older. He stood with Oslang and the other Cadwanwr and kept Sumeral’s Uhriel from destroying the army with the Power. It took a toll I don’t think we can begin to understand.’

‘I didn’t mean to sound flippant.’

‘It’s all right. It’s just a little disturbing to hear about him like that.’

‘Do you think he might be in danger?’

‘I doubt it, he’s a Riddinwr.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning that like all the Riddinvolk, he and his horse together make a lethal combination. And, for a Learned Brother, Atelon’s more than a fair hand with a sword.’

But Dacu had reservations. He turned to Thyrn. ‘I’ve no reason for this, but I feel uneasy about what we’ve just heard. I’d like to press on towards home. See if we can catch up with him.’ He held out a hand westward towards the unseen Arash-Felloren, his face questioning.

Thyrn looked in the direction he was pointing, then thought for a moment. ‘Some other time. I decided not to come here once before, it’s not hard to do it again. I’m sure it’ll be here for some years yet.’

‘Thank you,’ Dacu said.

‘Besides,’ Thyrn added, ‘I’m intrigued by this talking rat.’

They moved out of the courtyard and, after watching the busy crossroads for a while, turned on to the emptier road that ran northwards.

‘This talking rat is almost certainly Dar-Volci,’ Dacu told Thyrn. ‘He’s a felci. One of the few that take a serious interest in people and probably the only one who’ll travel anywhere. They’re rock dwellers and they look nothing like rats.’ He smiled to himself. ‘If I’m any judge of our erstwhile host, he’s tried to set his dogs on Dar and they’ve been seen off.’

‘They were big dogs. I wouldn’t like to argue with either of them,’ Vredech interposed.

‘Size doesn’t really come into it,’ Dacu said. ‘They’re strange creatures, felci. Full of life, energy, mischief – lots of mischief – but very dangerous if they have to fight.’

‘And they actually talk?’ It was Nertha.

‘Oh yes. As I said, they’re strange creatures. They say their ancestry goes back to the time before the very beginning of things.’

‘Before the beginning?’ Vredech exclaimed.

Dacu gave a disclaiming shrug. ‘You’re the theologian, you tell me. That’s what they claim. I’m sure Dar-volci will be only too happy to discuss it with you – at great length.’

Vredech gave him a suspicious look. ‘I’ll confess to having passed the time with the occasional dog from time to time in the past, but I find it difficult to see me discussing theology – or anything, for that matter – with a talking rat.’

Both Tirke and Dacu laughed. ‘Well, if you’ll accept a word of advice, I wouldn’t call Dar-volci a rat to his snout,’ Dacu said. ‘He can be quite cutting. And I’d reserve your judgement on his intellect if I were you.’

Vredech’s suspicious look deepened. He looked to Endryk for aid. ‘Are you joining with your countrymen in this?’ he asked.

Endryk tried not to laugh at Vredech’s discomfort, but failed. ‘I’m afraid so,’ he replied. ‘I’ve never had the privilege of a conversation with a felci, but I’ve seen one or two and I’m afraid Dacu’s telling you the truth. And from what I’ve heard, they regard us as a rather inferior and troublesome species they have to keep an eye on.’

Vredech looked to his wife. ‘I’m beginning to suspect there’s something in the humour of these people that doesn’t travel.’ He returned to Dacu. ‘I suppose you’ll tell me next that this Dar-volci is a sort of king felci.’

Dacu chuckled. ‘No. They’d regard that as being very peculiarly human – extremely eccentric, not to say downright dangerous.’ Then his manner was abruptly almost sombre. ‘But he is exceptional.’ He glanced at Endryk to draw him into the conversation. ‘It was Dar-volci who killed Sumeral’s most powerful Uhriel, Oklar. The man – the creature – who cut a swathe through Vakloss with a gesture. Killed him just like that.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Whatever the felci are, wherever… or whenever… they come from, they’re not to be underestimated, and the Power seems to hold no terror for them.’

The expression on Endryk’s face told Vredech more vividly than any reassurances that he was not being made the butt of even a gentle joke.

‘I see there’s a great deal I have to learn about your country and its people,’ he said.