Ish Ulpin: a lean, pale man with a thin, mirthless mouth. He is given to great anger; he loves to kill. Once was a gladiator in Chi 'ash-Ian; later, sailed with the Orfus pirates of the Greater Teeth. Now works for King Tor as executioner and torturer, but is not averse to a little private enterprise on the side. In anyone's language, this man is dangerous.
Bucks Cat: a tall man with a wrestler's build; black hair; ebony skin; a knife-scar grinning on his throat. Born on Island Talsh in Sponge Sea. After capture in slaving raid, worked for many years in a quarry in the Ashun Mountains. Led slave revolt which took three years to suppress; spent five years on Greater Teeth before settling on Stokos.
Whale Mike: an ogre built as tall as King Tor. Has a trace of human ancestry (ogres can breed with humans, as wdlves can with dogs) as evidenced by a face showing what is almost a standard human configuration. Small eyes of incontrovertible imbecility; cheeks bulging as if a full-moon resides within each; sallow yellow skin. He has no ears, only holes in the side of his head where ears should be. (His hearing, even so, is acute.) His past is unspeakable.
The day was bright; the sun glittered on the sea and glinted from the blue and green tiled rooves of Cam. The clouds were few, white and very high. Drake felt strangely tranquil as he watched the whitewashed buildings of Cam
receding into the distance. Three leagues was a long way to swim. But he had every confidence of success. In fact, he felt he had energy to spare. By way of showing off, he offered to row.'You not row, man,' said Whale Mike. 'You sleep.'
'I don't need to sleep,' said Drake. T know what's best for me.'
'You like kitten,' said Whale Mike. 'Eyes not open yet. You not know which way up.'
'It doesn't matter what he knows,' said Ish Ulpin, with a laugh which suggested no humour. 'It'll all be over soon enough in any case.'
'What?' said Drake. 'You think I'm going to drown or something?''Shut up,' said Bucks Cat.
'You make nice sleep,' said Whale Mike. 'That always good thing. Not much sleep in water. That not so?'
Drake hated to take advice from anything which looked so stupid, but, in the end, he made himself as comfortable as he could and closed his eyes. And slept, right enough. Dreaming of munched frogs and dripping blood. After a while, he woke to hear someone – Ish Ulpin, by the sound of it – talking about Andranovory.
'We should have taken old Andranovory's offer,' said Ish Ulpin. 'It's our chance to get back to the Greaters.''Yes,' said Bucks Cat.
'You really want go back there?' said Whale Mike. T not like that. We happy here, that not so? In Greaters, nobody trust anybody. That not nice.'
'Who cares about nice?' said Ish Ulpin. 'I care about money.'And Drake thought: Well, and so do we all.
Then drifted off to sleep again. Waking considerably later. What had woken him? A gull, yes, the harsh cry of a gull. Lament of the ages. He sat up, blinked. His eyes hot, red, sore. Infected from the dung heap? Maybe. The boat rocked. His arse was sore. His back was sore. A boat was no place to sleep.'Hey,' said Drake. 'Where are we?'
He looked for the shore. It was a fair way distant. Well, to be exact: an unfair way distant. The whitewashed buildings with their roofs of blue and green tiles were shrunk by distance to the size of flecks of paint.'This is more than three leagues!' said Drake.
And promptly leaped overboard. The sea was so wet! So big! So dark! Drake was most unhappy about it. But he was even less happy when Ish Ulpin picked up a harpoon and threatened him.
'Back in the boat, boy,' said Ish Ulpin. 'Get in, or I spear you.''What is this?' said Drake.'Don't argue,' said Ish Ulpin. 'Get in!'
Drake paddled back to the boat. Whale Mike hauled him aboard, then took his turn at the tiller. Buck Cat and Ish Ulpin continued rowing.
'Hey, man,' said Drake uneasily. 'Three leagues is but six thousand paces. We're that far from shore already, I'll swear to it.'
He got no answer. He felt stupid, sitting there dripping wet, so stripped himself naked, wrung out his clothes then put them back on. Leaving his boots off. Those lovely new boots had felt dangerously heavy when he had been swimming in the sea. He bitterly regretted making his bet with Sully Yot, because it was clear enough now that he was going to lose his five shangles. Yes, and Yot would never let him forget it.
'Hey, boys,' said Drake, 'row me most of the way back in and I'll let you have three shangles. That's one each. That's a lot of money.'Bucks Cat laughed, and pulled on his oars with a will.'You're going too far!' said Drake.
'And we'll go further yet before you jump,' said Ish Ulpin, sunlight glinting on his fine white teeth as he smiled.Smiled without humour.
'What is this?' said Drake. 'Vigilante justice or something?''Exactly,' said Ish Ulpin.
'I'm a citizen!' shouted Drake. 'A very religious boy! Just a boy, a tender-hearted boy. I want to work hard and worship, to learn obedience under the law, yes, learn my lessons, pay my taxes, reform, be good. Why are you doing this to me?'
'Certain merchants have paid us to,' said Ish Ulpin. 'Aye, and paid well, too. Nice work for easy money.'
'Merchants?' said Drake. 'Who? The guy with the watermelon stand? Or that man with the daughter?'
'None of those,' said Ish Ulpin. 'Nay. Men of more importance. Men who fear to see a fool named Dreldragon marry King Tor's daughter.''What?' said Drake. 'They're in lust with her?'
'Nay. But they fear a fool like you as king. You marry her tomorrow, the king could be dead the next day. He's old enough to die.''He might last another thirty years,' said Drake.
'And might not,' said Ish Ulpin. 'The people who pay us want no risks.''You can't do this!' howled Drake.But got no reaction. Until Whale Mike said:
'He only boy, you know. We long way out. He not get back. This far enough, yes?'
'You always were soft in the head,' said Bucks Cat. 'I've swum further than this myself. He might do the same himself.'
'Unless we put a harpoon through him,' said Ish Ulpin. 'How about it?' 'Yes,' said Bucks Cat.
'Oh no,' said Whale Mike. 'That cruel. We not do that. We give him maybe just little chance. That nice, give some joker chance.'
'Was it you who gave Jon Arabin a chance?' said Ish Ulpin.
'What you talking about?' said.Whale Mike. 'When Slagger Mulps had him thrown overboard with all that iron tied to his feet,' said Ish Ulpin. 'You did the knots for the iron, didn't you?'Whale Mike's big foolish face split in a grin.
'Oh yes,' he said. 'Good knots, eh? Jon, he smart fellow. He get those knots undone real nice. I make knots so he have little chance. No much. But he come up all right. That good fun. Old Walrus, he real pissed off. Good stuff. Jon blow kiss, that cracked me up, that real funny.'
'So that's why the Warwolf survived,' said Bucks Cat. 'Because Mike was in one of his funny moods.'
'I had a sword called Warwolf,' said Drake. 'Who's the Warwolf you're talking about?'
'You shut up,' said Ish Ulpin. 'We've heard enough out of you.'
'Yes,' said Bucks Cat. 'Keep your mouth shut, or we'll tie the anchor to your feet before we throw you over. I'll do the knots myself. They won't come undone if I do them!'
Drake, seeing the threat was serious, kept quiet thereafter. He counted what gulls he saw. There were not many of them. How far did gulls fly from shore? Some, he had heard, lived eternally at sea, never touching ground from one year to the next. He looked at his toes. Wriggled them. There were little ginger hairs growing on his toes. That was funny, that his head-hair should be blond yet his toe-hair ginger.
Knowing he might be close to death, he started to review his life. What did he see?
Mostly, lost opportunities. Women never laid, foes never beaten, fruit never stolen. Well, if he got out of this, the world would see a change in Drake Douay. Yes. No more Mr Nice Guy! He'd go for what he wanted, yes, ruthlessly, yielding to nothing. Life was short, so: grab while the grabbing's good.
While Drake was thinking thus, the crewmen rowed on. Bucks Cat put a line out and trolled for fish, with some success. As each fish was hauled aboard, it was cut up then eaten raw. Drake was horrified.
'This good,' said Whale Mike, throwing Drake a lump of fish.'Eat!'
'No,' said Drake. 'Raw fish is poison. Everyone knows that.' .'I eat, I not hurt,' said Whale Mike.'You're not human,' said Drake.
'Oh, I human enough,' said Whale Mike complacently. 'Come on, you try. That way find things out.'
'So it is,' said Drake, remembering what he had been taught in his theory classes about the experimental method.
But, even so, he was most reluctant to eat something which almost all of Stokos regarded as deadly poison. Finally, compelled by hunger, he tried some of the fish. It was not bad at all. And he got no harm from it.
'Well,' said Drake, 'they do say that travel broadens the mind.'
He was starting to feel quite comfortable in the boat. He had managed to convince himself that the crewmen would never force him into the sea. No, they were just indulging in a rather cruel joke. Sooner or later, they would admit as much. Then everyone on the brave boat Walrus would have a good laugh, and they would turn and row for shore. Once there, the crewmen might buy Drake a beer by way of apology. A beer? Two beers, minimum! They might buy him a woman, as well. Then Drake would go home and get a good night's sleep. And, bright and early in the morning, he would start on his first sword.
With such thoughts, Drake comforted himself. Until, toward sunset, when only a line of distant clouds marked the position of the shore, Ish Ulpin gave an order:'Ease oars!'
The Walrus wallowed in the greasy swells. What lay beneath the sea's surface? Immense depths of dark, of cold, of drifting seaweed and hunting sharks.'Sorry about this,' said Whale Mike.
'You mean . . .' said Drake. 'You mean you're really-'
'Did you think we were joking?' said Ish Ulpin.' Jump!' 'Yes,' said Bucks Cat. 'Before we cut your lips off.' 'This isn't fair!' said Drake. T never did anything to hurt you.'
'You lied to one of our friends,' said Ish Ulpin. 'You gave Atsimo Andranovory duff directions. Aye. You met him on the waterfront and-'
'But that's ridiculous!' said Drake. 'You can't kill me just because of that!'
'Ish Ulpin joking,' said Whale Mike. 'We not kill you because of that. We kill you because that our job. You better leave now.'
'Yes,' said Bucks Cat, jabbing at Drake with a harpoon. 'Leave now, if you want to leave with your liver.'
Bucks jabbed again. And Drake jumped. The oarsmen turned the good boat Walrus around and started rowing for the shore.
'This is a joke,' said Drake, swimming after them. 'It is a joke, isn't it? It could be, you know. I'll hold no grudge. I'll swear to you. Everything I own. My flesh, my body.'
'Keep your distance,' said Ish Ulpin, snatching the harpoon from Bucks Cat.Ish Ulpin was ready to kill. Yes. It was no joke.
Drake trod water, floundering around in the swell and the slop. He swore. He wailed in despair. Then he shouted:
'It's too late now!' he screamed. 'Too late for me to get to the palace by sunset! So I'll never marry the king's daughter! Your merchants have got what they want! They're safe! You've earnt your money! I'll never be king! Pick me up, for love of your mother!'
'I've no love for my mother,' called Ish Ulpin. 'In fact, I strangled the bitch to celebrate my fourteenth birthday.'And on rowed the boat.
Bucks Cat, holding the tiller, reclined like a lady of leisure. He trailed his free hand over the side, so water played around his fingers. He was safe. He was earning good money for this murder. He was happy. And he was letting Drake know just how good he felt.
Whereupon Drake was filled with seething anger, with outrage, with implacable hatred. He would not drown! He would live! He would get to shore then murder those boatmen, one by one! Hang them! Jugulate them! Smash them to pulp then jump up and down on their splattered bowels!
Drake forced himself out of his trousers. He lay on his back, kicking his feet to keep himself afloat. He knotted each trouser-leg at the ankle. Then held the trousers by the waistband, so the legs dangled limply in the water. Then, treading water, he brought the trousers sweeping in a sudden arc toward the sea.
Air shot into the trouser-legs. The waistband, widened to a circle by the inrush of air, hit the sea. Drake forced it down. The trouser-legs stuck up into the air. Drake laid himself across the crotch of the trousers, trapping the waistband beneath him.
He was now afloat on his trousers. Bit by bit, the air would surely leak out, but by repeating his trick he could refill them. He looked a right daft lunatic, floating on his trousers with his naked arse shimmering in the seas of sunset. But he would live, unless he died of cold, or was eaten by sharks, or was set upon by giant seabirds, or-Yes, probably he would die.'But I'm not dead yet,' said Drake.And floated.All grim determination.
Darkness came, bringing a night longer than all the wormholes that ever were, longer than every bit of spaghetti which has ever been made since the dawn of time.
Drake fell asleep often, experiencing just a flash of dreamtime hallucination before waking again to the cold everwash of the sea. The greasy wool which protected his torso helped keep him alive. But for the warmth of wool, Drake would have been dead long before dawn.
By the time dawn approached there was no determination left. Only a boy of sixteen, alone, lonely, exhausted almost beyond endurance, cold to the bone, nine parts dead, skin wrinkled by the sea.'It's lighter,' said Drake. 'A new day . . .'Life is hope.
The east was grey. Then sullen red. Then ginger. Then up came the sun, as bright and cheerful as ever. Blue shone the sky. Blue sky. White clouds.
'It is a good day to die,' said Drake, since that was the kind of thing heroes were supposed to say.
Maybe heroes convinced heroes. But Drake failed to convince Drake. As far as he could tell, no day was a good day to die.
But it didn't look like he had much choice in the matter, for, by the bright happy sunlight, he saw a fin sliding through the sea. An evil fin. Sleek. Cold. Polished as a knife. Then out from the water came a sleek and polished head, which whistled at him in a high and alien language.
'I see,' said Drake. 'A whistling shark. Well, nice to be eaten by a novelty, I suppose.'
The brute rolled on its side, then dived. Going under. Drake drew his knees to his belly. Where was it? Where was it?'Show yourself, bugger-breath!' he snarled.
And the monster did. It came out of the sea. It leaped right out of the water, described a fantastic arc, then plunged beneath the waves again. Then surfaced. Grinning. Yes! Its vicious beak of a mouth was grinning at him! There was no mistaking that expression. What next? Laughing, no doubt.
The smiling shark began to circle. The swells lifted Drake up then dropped him down. His trousers were almost empty of air: he was getting lower and lower in the water.
'Come on, shark!' said Drake. 'Make an end of it, you ugly bugger!'
But the shark just circled, chirruping now and then. Another joined it. Two of them, then. No, three!
'A dinner party, is it?' said Drake. 'Man, sorry to show up for dinner with a bare arse.' It was time to fill the trousers again. Or drown.'Life is hope,' said Drake.
And manoeuvred himself off his trousers, meaning to slip them behind him to catch another load of air. But he was so weak that, as the last of that air-support left him, he slipped beneath the waves, losing his grip on the trousers. Which sank.Drake sank.Grabbing for the surface.
Something rose up beside him. He seized it. He found himself brought to the surface. By a shark. Too exhausted to scream, he lay there in the sea, lay with his cheek against the water-smooth flank of the shark, his arm over its great smooth back.
Then remembered that sharks are not smooth, for their skin has more teeth than their jaws. So this must be a dolphin, yes, he had heard of such, that accounted for the whistling and all, it was a dolphin, life answering to life just as the legends claimed. And Drake, unable to help himself, wept.And heard someone hail him:'Ahoy there! You with the fish!'
Now the dolphin is no fish, for its blood is warm, and, what's more, mother dolphins give birth to their young in a fashion close to human, then suckle their babies on milk. But Drake knew well enough that the voice was speaking to him.
'So it's true,' he said. 'The dead begin to speak to you as you die. Well, who'd have thought it?'
Then the voice called again. Turning his head, Drake saw a ship on the sea behind him. If he had looked around earlier, he would have seen it much sooner.
'Investigate,' said Drake. 'That's what I should have done.'Then the dolphin submerged, leaving him floundering in the swell. But hope gave him strength, and he kept himself afloat until the ship came alongside. It was a xebec with sails ofthepalest lilac, a hull painted gold and topsides of silver. It looked like something out of a dream.
Looking up, Drake saw a woman looking down. She was tall. She was luxurious. Her hair was red, her skin also; her mouth was broad, her breasts high-lofted.
'Are you all right?' she said anxiously, in Galish tinged with a foreign accent.
Drake floated there, gazing up at her. What a mouth! What a nose! What beautiful body-lines! Suddenly he remembered all the good resolutions he had made in the face of death: Go for what you want! Yield to nothing! Grab while the grabbing's good!Well,then. . .' Will you marry me?' said Drake.'What?' said the woman, her face showing alarm.'Marryme! I'minlove!''You're crazy,' she said.
Drake lacked the strength to protest. He floated, his hair – beautifully clean by now – floating around him in the easy seas. Then a capture net scooped him from the water, and he was hauled aboard like a bit of dead meat.
Shortly, he was lying on hard boards with a coarse woollen blanket draped over his nakedness. The tall red woman was bending over him, feeding him sips of water.
'Careful, now,' she said, supporting his head. 'Not all at once!'He seized her hand, and kissed it. 'Marry me,' he said.
'I'll learn you a rather hard lesson, if you talk on so foolish,' she said, a note of warning in her voice.
She was, he judged, about four years older than him, and a good head taller. He was in lust with her. Strenuously in lust. Or, to be more exact: he liked what he saw, and his ego compelled him to imagine that he had strength enough for lust, even after the trauma of his deep-sea survival exercise. It was that same ego which compelled him to pursue his suit:'Tell me,' said Drake, 'tell me at least your name.'
'Zanya,' shesaid. 'ZanyaKliedervaust, lately of the temple of the Orgy God on the Ebrells.'
'The Orgy God?' said Drake. 'That sounds like my kind of deity.'
'Mayhap,' said Zanya. 'But I have renounced the temple. Also the flesh it worships. I seek a higher calling. That I hope to find on Stokos.'
At that moment, they were interrupted by a tall, well-built man with violet eyes and purple skin. He wore a purple robe; heavy golden ear-rings dangled beside his cheeks.'Zanya,' he said. 'Faa n 'koto afa dree takaloka tee?'
'Gaa n'moto seki seki,' answered Zanya. 'Ka ta funofoonu ti.'
'Who are you?' said Drake, staring up at the big purple man.
'He speaks no Garish,' said Zanya. 'But his name is Oronoko. He's a prince from one of the provinces of Parengarenga.'
' Yakoto,' said Prince Oronoko, smiling as he put a hand to his heart. 'N'mo k'nozo Oronoko. Ka nafu-nafu.''Is this your boyfriend?' said Drake.
'He's a pilgrim,' said Zanya. 'He came to the Ebrells in a quest for purity. We've been questing together ever since.'
'I see,' said Drake. 'Questing for long enough to share a language between you.'
'Oh, I've known the speaking of Frangoni for years,' said Zanya. 'It's a language common enough on the Ebrells.'
Drake wanted to question her further, but first he had to deal with the ship's captain, a lean, anxious man who came bustling along the deck, peered at Drake with some misgivings, then asked, in a high-pitched voice scarcely half a tone away from hysteria:
'How came you to be in the water? What evil put you there? Witchcraft, perhaps?'
'Nay, man,' said Drake, improvising. 'I was on my uncle's fishing boat. Then up came a kraken! Ah, a brute of a thing it was! Terrible with tentacles. It drowned the boat. Ate all but me.'His eyes were bright, his voice frenzied.
'Say no more,' said the captain, his fears of the occult apparently appeased. 'Leisure back, boy. Rest. Sleep. We'll land in Stokos soon enough. That will be the time for you to make a settlement with your grief.'
All the way back to Stokos, Drake's resolution hardened. His flesh, for the moment, was too weak to harden with his resolution. But there was no doubt about it. He could have, would have, must have this big beautiful red-skinned Ebrell bitch.
But he was to be disappointed.
For, on reaching Stokos, Zanya quit the ship swiftly, in company with Oronoko, without even bothering to learn Drake's name.'Must follow,' muttered Drake to Drake.
And he gave chase.
But he had scarce taken a dozen steps when the ground snatched itself from under his feet and a sheet of stifling black tar rolled across the surface of the sun.
When Drake recovered consciousness, he found himself lying on a truckle-bed in the room which housed the skull collection which was the pride and joy of his uncle, Oleg Douay. When Drake called out, his uncle came to his bedside.'What happened?' said Drake.
'Why, the sea gods saved you, that's what happened,' said Oleg. 'I prayed to them mightily. My faith, as you see, is justified.'
'No,' said Drake. T mean down at the waterfront. What happened there?'
'You fainted, or so report would have it. Nothing to be ashamed of. After what you've been through, it's a wonder you could walk from the ship on your own two legs. Rest.'
'Man,' said Drake, 'a woman came off that ship. She-'
'Never you mind about women!' said Oleg. 'There'll be plenty of time for that later.'Shortly, Drake had a visitor: it was Sully Yot.'Five shangles,' said Yot, sticking out his hand.'Man!' said Drake. 'That's a fine form of greeting!''Pay up!' said Yot, obviously delighting in his triumph.
It occurred to Drake that, if the mischances of fate ever reduced him to slavery, then Yot was the very last person he would want as a master.
'Man, I'll pay all right, but only if you can find a woman for me.'
And Drake proceeded to name and describe Zanya Kliedervaust. By diligent inquiry, Yot found she had taken work in the leper colony on the outskirts of town. Drake paid over the five shangles, though the news gave him little joy.
He dared not venture to the leprosarium. For ordinary leprosy is terrible, but in that colony they had something worse still – blue lepers, who suffered outbreaks of blue sores, then great septic ulcers, then a black rot which consumed the eyes, Then a terrible variant of gangrene which broke out all over and finished them. They generally took two long, slow years to die, from the time the first blue sores erupted on their skin.Love conquers all?Maybe.
But Drake was not in love – he was in lust. And lust alone was not sufficient to compel him inside a leper colony.'Woe is me!' cried Drake.
Then remembered that life did, after all, have some compensations. For he was about to start work on his first sword, was he not? That happy thought gave him the strength to rise from his bed after only three days of recuperation.
But, on proceeding to Hardhammer Forge, Drake found his hopes of making a sword of his own were not yet to be fulfilled. Gouda Muck had received a special order from King Tor for five blades of firelight steel. Muck was working flat out; he lacked the time to supervise apprentice work.'But you promised!' said Drake.
'Wait till these blades are done,' said Muck. 'I'll be no use as a teacher if Tor chops my head off, will I?'Drake had to concede the logic of that.'How long before you're finished?' he asked.
'How long is a piece of string?' said Muck. 'What have you done about those men who threw you overboard? Have you reported them?''Not yet,' said Drake.
'Then I suggest you get on with it,' said Muck, who loved justice as much as any other man. 'Today. Off you go! ''But I'm supposed to go to theory class this afternoon.' 'Do you care?'
'I do,' said Drake, with both truth and determination. 'I've decided to go all out for what I want. And what I want is to be a swordsmith, yes, the very best swordsmith on Stokos.'
'I'm impressed,' said Muck, who wasn't, but thought such an attitude deserved encouragement. 'Right. Go to theory class this afternoon, then tomorrow morning make your report.'
That night, Drake dreamed of the horrifying tortures which would claim Ish Ulpin, Bucks Cat and Whale Mike once King Tor was persuaded to punish them. He woke early, and, after a quick breakfast, hurried off to the Iron Palace to make his report.