The Wordsmiths and the Warguild (3 page)

       
"Ah!" said the
old man, eyes bright with revelation. "That explains everything! The
barbarities inflicted on the human ear in the name of music. The provincial
manners of the local peasants. The - "

       
"Are you calling me
- "

       
"Tog," said
Day. "Don't argue, you're only encouraging him. He's a poor harmless old
man. Why not have the servants show me to a garrow for the night? Alternatively
- "

       
At that moment a rowdy
party came barrelling out of the banquet hall - seven or eight reeling drunks
laughing and jostling as they staggered out into the fresh night air. Amongst
them was Cromarty, Togura's hefty half-brother, who was three years his senior.

       
"Why, hey!"
said Cromarty. "It's Spunk Togura and little girl Day. Hitting the
eiderdown tonight, chids? Getting in some of the old kerna tamerna?" His
cronies guffawed and ribbed each other. Then Cromarty saw the stranger.
"This is new, boys, hey hey? What ho! I say, grandad, past your bedtime,
isn't it? Shall we put him to bed, boys? Hey what?"

       
"You can help me
fix my ship if you would," said the ancient mariner. "If not, I'll do
it by daylight once I've slept."

       
"A ship, hey. Boys,
this we have to see. Snaffle the lantern, Lanks. Nids, you salvage the
other." On Cromarty's orders, the two lanterns guarding the banqueting
hall's entrance were snaffled and salvaged. "Come along, grandad,"
said Cromarty. "Show us your ship. Coming for a sail, Day? Come along
now!"

       
Cromarty's bounders
seized her.

       
"Let her go!"
said Togura.

       
He waded into them,
flailing wildly, but he was grossly outnumbered. The scungers grabbed him, and
he was frog-marched into the night. As they swaggered along with lanterns
swinging wildly, the drunks roared out the Kanover drinking song.

       
"Where now, grandad?"
said Cromarty.

       
"This way,"
said the ancient mariner. "This way!"

       
Gaining a small knoll,
the drunks dropped Togura face-first into the long rough grass. This, of
course, was dew-damp and appeared to contain more than the usual quota of
gorse.

       
"What ho!"
said Cromarty. "The ship, hey?"

       
Getting to his feet,
Togura saw, by lantern-light, a clutter of sticks which looked like a
gargantuan parody of a crow's nest. Cromarty hefted one of the heavier sticks.

       
"Careful with that,
boy," said the old man sharply. "That's the rudder."

       
"Rudder, hey? Then
this is the jakes, suppose, suppose."

       
And Cromarty hauled out
his penis and began to piss on the sticks. The old man swiped at his buttocks
with his shepherd's crook. Cromarty, startled, lost control of his shlong, and
pissed all over his pants.

       
"You klech!"
shouted Cromarty, tucking away his shmuck. "You ornskwun vig of a
hellock!"

       
And he gave the old man
a push, sending him reeling back into one of the drunks, who dropped the
lantern he was holding. It smashed, leaving them with a single light.

       
"That's enough,
Cromarty!" said Togura. "You're disgracing the estate!"

       
"Why so," said
Cromarty softly. "Our little Spunk Togura is riding the angers, hey? All
up and on about the precious estate. It's my estate, little boy! I'm the one
who inherits."

       
"Then behave
yourself until you do," said Togura manfully. "Now pack your rabble
out of here. Go!"

       
"Not so swell, my
hearty," said Cromarty, unshipping a knife.

       
Togura was unarmed. He
grabbed for a stick, but one of Cromarty's scungers stepped on it.

       
"Cut him,
Crom!" said one.

       
"I will," said
Cromarty, his face turning ugly. "Oh, certain, certain. It's ribbons for
little Togura!"

       
"No fighting,
children," said the old man, trying to intervene. "Pitilkin doesn't
like fighting."

       
"Stand aside,
grandad," said Cromarty, giving him a hearty push.

       
"Kill him,
Crom!" yelled an eager admirer.

       
"I will," said
Cromarty. "For sure."

       
"And he moved in on
the attack. He slashed at Togura, who leapt backwards. Cromarty advanced. He
was good with a blade. Even when drunk, he was good.

       
"Stop this!"
screamed Day.

       
She tried to intervene,
but was restrained. Cromarty's mobsters had their blood up. They were shouting:

       
"Into him,
Crom!"

       
"Scallop him!"

       
"Finish him!"

       
Suddenly the old man
swung his shepherd's crook. The stout wooden staff smashed Cromarty's wrist.
Quick as a flash, the old man demolished the surviving lantern. There were
shouts, roars and cries of pain in the darkness. Togura hit the dirt and stayed
down. Someone trampled over him, fleeing for shelter. He heard the vicious
whistle of the old man's stick slicing through the air.

       
Then it was all over.
Cromarty and his friends had fled. They could be heard swearing in the
darkness; then, as their cries diminished in the distance, Togura became aware that
music was still playing in the banquet hall. While he had been in danger of
being sliced and diced, his father's guests had been amusing themselves all
unawares of the drama taking place out in the night.

       
"Tog!" called
Day, loudly, almost directly overhead.

       
"Here," said
Togura, feeling for her in the darkness as he tried to get to his feet.

       
His blundering hand slid
straight up her dress to the warmest part of her flesh. She screamed. He jerked
his hand away as if it had been burnt.

       
"Tog," said
Day, uncertainly. "Was that you?"

       
"What the feck and
fuckle did you think it was, girl?" said the ancient mariner. "An
octopus? Come on, children, pull yourselves together."

       
They did not answer, for
they were now embracing.

       
"Tog, oh Tog,"
said Day, holding him close and tight. "I was so worried. Are you all
right?"

       
"Fine," said
Togura. "If only I'd had a blade! I would've cut him from spleen to
kidney. I would've - "

       
"Leave your heroics
for later," said the old man sharply. "If we can't work on the boat
tonight, I want to sleep. Where's my bed for the night?"

       
"You've got a
nerve!" said Togura, who bitterly resented the fact that it was this
querulous old madman who had just saved his life or his beauty, or maybe both.

       
"Come on,"
said Day. "Don't be nasty. I'm sure we can find him a place to stay for
the night."

       
"Oh, all right,
then," said Togura. "Let's go."

       
They went back to the
banquet hall, where they met Quail the rouster. He was bearing a lighted
candle, which he was trying to shield with his hand. As they drew near, he
recognised them.

       
"Master
Togura!" said Quail. "Have you seen the doorway lanterns by any
chance?"

       
"Why, has someone
lifted them?" said Togura.

       
"Yes. Some of your
young friends, perhaps? That little sod Cromarty was on the muck tonight."

       
"Is that so?"
said Togura. "Well, a couple of lanterns isn't the end of the world. Tell
me, man Quail, can you bed down this gentleman for the night?"

       
Quail peered at the
ancient mariner.

       
"Are you sure we
want to house this individual, Master Togura?"

       
"Pitilkin sleeps
quietly," said the old man, his voice quavering. "No trouble, no
trouble."

       
"Just for the
night," said Togura.

       
"It won't do any
harm," said Day.

       
"Well ... just for
the night then," said Quail, doubtfully. "There's probably a spare
garrow at the backstop, if the incest twins haven't bedded themselves down for
the night. Otherwise, I'm afraid it'll be the stable."

       
"Thanks," said
Togura, turning to go.

       
"Oh, and Master
Togura - if you see Cromarty and his spry young brags, ask them about the
lantern, will you?"

       
"We will,"
said Day. "Thanks for everything."

       
Togura took her hand and
they walked off into the night together. His hopes were high, but they were
soon to be disappointed: he did not lose his virginity that night.

Chapter 3

       
"I don't suppose
you know how your brother damaged his wrist," said Baron Chan Poulaan.

       
"I don't keep track
of his business," said his son Togura.

       
The baron harrumphed,
but did not press the point.

       
The two were riding side
by side. They were on a road, or what passed for a road in those parts, which
led to the city state of Keep. The baron was riding a brindled mare and his son
was riding a donkey. Following on behind, riding Kloggles the Mule - and it
took a brave man or a foolish man to venture that - was Prick, the baron's
venerable secretary.

       
"The fog seems to
be closing in," said Togura, looking around.

       
"I'd noticed
that," said his father.

       
"Perhaps we should
stop till it clears."

       
"We might be here
all day," said his father. "We'll go on."

       
And they did.

       
Visibility swiftly
became zero. The road abruptly became peat bog. After floundering around in the
mist for a while, they staggered out of the bog, hauling their animals along
with them, only to find themselves waist-deep in flourishing gorse. The baron
cursed and struck out with his sword, accidentally clouting Prick with the flat
of the blade.

       
Fortunately, it then
began to rain, causing the fog to dissipate swiftly. Unfortunately, they found
themselves on a small gorse-covered island surrounded by peat bog.

       
"There's the
road!" said Togura, pointing to an indeterminate ribbon of mud and stones
lying some distance from the island.

       
"Your powers of
observation astound me," said the baron grimly, leading the way back into
the bog.

       
Kloggles the Mule was
most reluctant to leave the little island, but, after a savage battle with no
holds barred, they forced him back through the bog to the road. By this time,
they were mud from ankle to shoulder. Fortunately, the rain was rapidly
becoming a solid downpour, suggesting that they might be able to strip off
their dirty clothes, take a shower in the rain then change into clean clothes.
Unfortunately, they had no clean clothes to change into.

       
"I think,"
said Togura, "that perhaps this is not the best of days on which to go and
visit the king."

       
"You are young, my
son," said his father, "but not entirely devoid of wisdom. Come, let
us make for home."

       
And they retreated back
down the road, which was rapidly becoming a quagmire.

       
The next day, in fine
clear weather, they set out again. The road was muddy, but they reached the
outskirts of Keep in good order. It was then that they encountered what appeared
to be a free-floating monster.

       
In some places, this
apparition might have been taken for a ghost, a hallucination or a trick of the
light, but this was Sung, and they knew the intruder for what it was - an ilps.

       
The ilps was very large.

      
 
It had seventy-nine teeth,
shared between two mouths of generous dimensions.