Name: Arabin lol Arabin (formerly Dreldragon Drakedon Douay, or, more simply, 'Drake').
Occupation: wilderness survivor, energetic creator of heresies, dedicated exponent of practical aspects of that congeries of delusions known as 'love'.
Status: in the eyes of his true love, his dearest kiss, the high-breasted red-skinned red-haired Zanya Kliedervaust (she who is sweeter then nectar, more tender than his foreskin, closer to his heart than his kidneys, and more valued than both of his great toes and the strength of his arches) his status is rising steadily.
Description: a fair-haired smiling fellow who whistles, sings, laughs; wears rather odd mixture of torn wool, battered sealskin, pungent uncured bearskin; looks totally absurd but more spritely by the moment.
There were thirteen in that downriver party. Guest Gulkan, the Pretender of Tameran whom they had met so briefly, was not amongst them, having failed to emerge from the Door by the time Jon Arabin finally snatched the star-globe from its golden cup, thus closing the Circle.
Zanya Kliedervaust was there, of course. She was chaste, yet in love. Amongst so many men, she felt protected because of what she thought of as Drake's power. She longed for the day when they could begin to practise some moderation together. It would be marvellous to be
cherished, soothed, gentled and adored. An antidote, perhaps, to her memories of Ebrell, where she used to finish an important ceremony feeling as bruised and abused as a pigskin which has just survived five games of ruck in succession.
With them was the purple-skinned Oronoko, rescued from the Great Arena of Dalar ken Halvar when Zanya was. Language difficulties kept him largely silent; only Zanya spoke his native Frangoni, and she had scant time for anyone other than Drake.
Drake was now universally known, to Jon Arabin's delight, as Arabin lol Arabin. While he had not yet tasted the delights of Zanya's flesh, he was already learning that the poets, while extravagant, are not entirely untruthful. Love does indeed have its pleasures – such as waking beside a woman in the morning and not having to ask her what her name is.
In his world of rain and river and water, of mud and dirt and charred bear meat, Zanya was the brightest, most bubbling thing in the universe. And her smile was itself a flattery he had never had from any other woman.
Warwolf and Walrus had of course survived, as had the wart-faced Sully Yot, who followed Drake like a bad smell until Drake threatened to lib him.
'I just fancy some jungle oysters,' said Drake. 'So get out of here before I cut your goolies off.'
'When you die,' said Yot, 'the Flame will burn you forever. You're living in sin.'
'Aye,' said Drake, not caring to confess that he had yet to sin with Zanya, 'for that's the way I was born. And I'm proud of it.''I'll tell Zanya you're the Demon-son!'
'Do it!' said Drake. 'Go on, just do it! Then I'll shove your face in the fire and hold it there till your nose burns off. What's more, my father will tear you limb from limb once you're dead.''You mean . . . ?''I mean I am indeed the Demon-son,' said Drake, savagely, 'seed of Hagon, sent to bring evil to the world and destruction to prissy little spoil-sport shits like Sully Yot. So bugger off!'
Yot was an unpredictable factor.
He wanted, for a start, to survive. To get the hell out of Penvash – certainly the closest thing to hell he'd ever encountered. And he also wanted to renew Drake's faith in the Flame (if Drake was human, and not born of the Demon), or to kill Drake (if Drake was indeed, true to his boast, the Demon-son). During each day's march, Yot lagged far behind the others, having long, involved theological discussions with himself as he tried to sort truth from boast and right from wrong.
Apart from the above, the Penvash party included three men who only wanted to stride on downstream as soon as possible: Rolf Thelemite, Jon Disaster and Whale Mike.
Then there was the rape faction.
It was small, for it consisted of three men only. Simp Fiche was its inspiring spirit, but Ika Thole thought of himself as its leader – and the dangerous Ish Ulpin was the one most likely to actually start the action. Ish Ulpin was busy persuading Bucks Cat to his faction.
While Drake and Zanya slept together in all innocence, oblivious of the group dynamics which were rapidly developing a disaster for them, the members of the rape faction campaigned.
'The vomit-haired scrab should share and share alike,' said Simp Fiche. 'It's not fair to keep her for himself.'
'Aye,' said Ika Thole. 'She's a priestess of the Orgy God, that one. I tell you, on the Ebrells they don't hold themselves so special.'
T haven't had my balls cut off,' said Ish Ulpin. 'How about the rest of you? How about it, Mike?'
Whale Mike thought long and hard, then shook his head in a ponderous fashion and said:
'This like eating my little klude. One too small for many. You so hard up, man? Then you grab sleepy bear, nice one, we help hold it down for you.'
He slapped his knees and laughed, while Ish Ulpin scowled.
But the rape lobby won over Bucks Cat. Then set to work on Slagger Mulps. Simp Fiche did most of the work, nagging away steadily:
'Are you a pirate chief or what? . . . following after the Warwolf like a puppy behind a blue-tailed bitch . . . when did you last speak as a captain? . . . man, he's been laughing at you ever since we left the Teeth . . . changed the name of the ship on you, back at D'Waith, didn't he? And you took it like a dead fish takes the gutting knife. . .'
Fiche was not surprised when, a day later, at noon, when they had halted for lunch (cold bear meat and water weed, with a couple of earthworms apiece to add variety) Walrus said to Warwolf:
'Jon, I've been thinking. It's been a hard haul, Jon. Many leagues, much suffering. Yet no fun for the boys, Jon. Except for one.'
And he glanced at Drake. Who got to his feet, his fingers fists.'You want to argue, man?' said Drake. 'Sit!' said Jon Arabin, curtly. Reluctantly, Drake sat.
'Mulps me darling,' said Jon Arabin. 'We're through the worst, as you know as well as any. We'll make it to Estar for sure. There's whores there the same as anywhere, and beer to go with them.'
'Aye,' said Mulps. 'But what good's pleasure elsewhere? Man, there's pleasures for real in Selzirk palaces – and what profit do we get of such?'
'Man,' said Jon Arabin. 'One unwashed body with another on a stinking skin in the mud and the rain, I don't call that pleasure. That's children's games – and there's only the two children here, neither of them being you or me.'
'Fussy, is it?' said Mulps. 'Aye, Jon, you always were the gentleman. But I'm a pirate true and for real, and I'll take what's due to me by worth and rank. Rolf – give me your sword. Give it!' Rolf Thelemite hesitated.
'You're sworn to him,' said Jon Arabin. 'So give him your blade, if that's the way he wants to settle it.'
And the Warwolf released his own blade from the bindings which kept the slender thing from rattling around in the big bulky sheath which had once held a falchion.'Give me that!' said Drake, reaching for it.
Jon Arabin knocked him away with a back-handed blow. He had to win this one himself to save his leadership. He could not allow Drake to kill the Walrus – as well he might, for his shipboard training had shown him slick with a blade.
'Keep back,' said Arabin. 'This kill is mine. Sit! And be silent!'Drake, wiping a little blood from his nose, obeyed.
Rolf Thelemite yielded his sword to Slagger Mulps, but, seeking to buy a little time in which hot heads might still yet cool, said:
'What about the tinder-box? A good cut might rend it open.'
Jon Arabin shrugged, then detached his waterproof sea-pouch from his belt. He tossed it to Drake, who caught it neatly.
'Take good care of that,' said Jon Arabin. 'We'll need a fire soon enough, to cook up Walrus kidneys.'
Arabin tested his footwork, and, finding the star-globe was likely to interfere with his movements, took it from the deep thigh-pocket where it had been hiding. He looked at Drake, to throw it to him – but Drake had turned to kiss Zanya.
'Here,' said Jon Arabin, tossing the star-globe to Sully Yot.
Rolf Thelemite, standing by Yot, thought it was for him, and tried to field it. Thelemite and Yot collided – and the star-globe rolled down the bank to the river's edge. Yot slithered after it hastily, first because he was certain Thelemite was angry with him, second because he was afraid the beautiful thing would be eaten by the hungering waters. There it was.
Yot grabbed for it. His fingers closed on the smooth cold stone. But it weighed more than he had expected, and slipped from his grasp. Fell into knee-deep water. The current rolled it downstream. Yot lunged for it, slipped, fell face-first into the water, saw the ball, grabbed it.
For a moment he had the star-globe in his grasp. He struggled against the current, slipped, tried to stand up – and found himself floundering out of his depth in water suddenly deeper. As the river thrashed him away, the star-globe found freedom.
Gasping and shouting, Yot thrashed around in the water. The others, watching from the top of the bank, still did not realize his difficulties. They thought he was just clowning it up a little, and would be wading back to the bank any moment now, star-globe in hand.Suddenly:
'He's stealing it!' yelped Simp Fiche, realizing Yot was getting too far away for comfort. 'The star-globe. He's stealing it!'
Yot, who had been crying out for help, was startled to hear a great roar from Bucks Cat:
'We'll get you, Yot! You won't get away with it! We'll skin you alive!'
Next moment, leadership fight forgotten, most of the pirates were charging along the riverbank in hot pursuit of the hapless Yot.
'Come,' said Zanya, and, grabbing Drake by the sleeve (or the nearest sleeve-equivalent remaining to his rags) started running in pursuit of the hunting party.
Walrus and Warwolf were left standing alone, bare swords still drawn, with Prince Oronoko observing them with interest – he liked to watch a good fight.
'Well,' said the green-bearded Slagger Mulps, sounding not entirely certain about it.
'Well indeed,' said Jon Arabin, thinking of his death-debt, and of the Supreme Auditor. 'Well, what say we leave this for the moment? At least until we've won back the star-globe.''Till then,' said Mulps.'Shall we swear to it?'
'Brothers in blood till the star-globe's back,' agreed Mulps, thinking that would be by sundown at the latest. And they swore to it.
Meanwhile, Drake and Zanya were running along after the others, following the muddy trail of footsteps, when Zanya suddenly stopped.'Arabin,' she said.'What?' said Drake, in some confusion. 'Where?'
Then remembered that was his name these days, for, to please his true love, he had become Arabin lol Arabin for always. He saw his true love was pointing up into a great big evergreen tree of crowding foliage and close-climbing branches.'Ah,' said Drake.And up the tree they went.
And, after realizing that Yot had been swept too far downriver for capture, the pirate party – led by the rape faction – spent a long time looking for those two young people. But never found them, no.
Come morning, the pirates set off for Estar, led by the Warwolf and the Walrus – who were oath-linked allies for the foreseeable future, since attempts to find the missing star-globe had proved just as futile as the search for Yot, Drake and Zanya.
The pirates?
They reached Estar, followed the river to the sea, then hijacked fishing boats and made it back to the Greaters.
Since the star-globe had not been recovered, Walrus and Warwolf were bound each to each by a bloodbrother's oath. Did they hate it, each being pledged to his worst enemy? On the contrary. It was the best thing which had happened to either of them for years.
They had been at war for so long now that they knew each other better than they knew any other living flesh. With each passing year, their hatred had become more and more a public ritual, less and less an affair of the heart.
Jon Arabin was delighted to welcome the Walrus into his household, delighted to. have some male companionship at home, after suffering for so long alone amidst his women.And the Walrus?
Jon Arabin was what he had always wanted: a dear, true, trustworthy friend.
Weep for the Walrus! Poor lonely little chap, so distressed by his exile from Chenameg, so cut off from the warmth of human society that he ended up raping a pig in a toilet in Selzirk! And was he comforted when found? Was he counselled and soothed and introduced to some nice young honest decent women in need of a good husband?No, of course not.
Instead, he was hauled up in a public court, abused by the prosecution, lectured by the judge, mocked by the public, then sentenced to labour as a galley slave – and was brutalized for five years on the Velvet River before being liberated by pirates.
And he was still a virgin on that traumatic night when he got into one of Jon Arabin's women and, in the raptures of his clumsy passion, bit off one of her nipples. From which accident all manner of evils followed.
Which gives credence to the assertions of Cho Sel Sig, a Korugatu philosopher, who holds that all the murder, mayhem, cruelty and brutality which together constitute 'history' is simply a consequence of bad sex (or no sex, which, according to Sig, amounts to the same thing).
Anyway, there they were then. Walrus and Warwolf. Friends at last. And Yot?
Well, Sully Datelier Yot never went to Estar. On reaching Lake Armansis, he turned west and crossed the
Razorwind Pass to Larbster Bay. There he had the luck of a boat which took him to D'Waith, from where – again, luck was involved more than good judgment – he made his way back to Stokos.
Where he was reunited with Gouda Muck. And was able to give warning of the invasion of Stokos planned by Lord Menator and King Tor. And to tell Gouda Muck, that dignitary of dignitaries, the avatar of the Flame, the High God of All Gods, all about the derelictions of Drake Douay.And Drake?And Zanya?
Well, Zanya went on with Drake. Foolish woman! She had been warned by the wizard Miphon that Drake was an awesome amount of trouble in a very small package. Her excuse was that she was in love . . .
First they almost died when they got lost in Looming Forest, on the northern marches of Estar. By sheer luck, they were rescued by a local woodsman, a heavy-jowled man by name of Blackwood, who sheltered them in the house he shared with his wife Mystrel.
Later, they ventured to Lorford, the ruling town of Estar, for Drake had thoughts of taking service with Prince Comedo, ruler of the place. He abandoned that plan when he realized both Atsimo Andranovory and Prince Oronoko were in the prince's employ.
He did, however, spend enough time in Lorford to get into trouble. As a consequence of this, he had a very unpleasant interview with a grim, tense, grey-haired Rovac warrior named Morgan Hearst, a fellow about 33 years of age, who took a hard line with hooligans.Hearst ran both Drake and Zanya out of town.
Travelling down the Salt Road south of Lorford, they were captured by priests of the temple of the Demon of Estar, and almost became human sacrifices. After escaping, they had a close encounter of the unpleasant kind with the dragon Zenphos, which lived in a cave high up in the nearby mountain of Maf.
Further south again, they ran into trouble with the locals after they killed a sheep which Drake had, or so he claimed in his defence, mistaken for a large and aggressive boar. But they talked their way out of that one – and, after several other adventures, including an encounter with a drunken ghost, they reached the southern border of Estar.
That border was guarded only by a derelict flame trench, a feeble ditch which steamed a bit, and boiled the water where it ran out into the sea, but which spat no fire and melted no rock.
Drake and Zanya crossed greasy wooden duckboards laid across the steaming mud at the bottom of the rubble-filled ditch, then climbed out of the warmth of its steam to the cold of the afternoon of a winter's day.
They explored the small, ruinous fort guarding the southern side of the trench. A stairway led down into darkness, but they declined to dare its dangers.
'Above will be enough,' said Drake. 'We'll camp here tonight.'
In the ruins of the fort's tower, they laid down the muddy sheepskins which they carried for sleep-warmth and stretched sheets of canvas above the skins to keep off the rain. Then searched for wood and lit a fire.
'Thus we leave Estar,' said Zanya. T wonder what lies ahead of us.'
'The Salt Road follows the coast south through Dybra and Chorst till it comes to Runcorn, which is a city major,' said Drake. 'We should get news of the world there for real.''If we get there,' said Zanya.'Oh, we'll get there all right,' said Drake.Will they reach Runcorn? Drake is right: they will.
It will be a long and perilous journey, but in fullness of time – on Midwinter's Day, to be exact – they will enter Runcorn.And Drake will learn that his world is in ruins.
He will learn that Tor and Menator have launched an invasion of Stokos. He will learn that Tor has landed near Cam, has fought against impossible odds – and has been defeated. His whereabouts are unknown. He will learn that Menator has survived the invasion unscathed. And for a very simple reason. Drake will learn that, with the coast of Stokos in sight, Menator turned his own ships homeward.
Drake will soon correctly analyse the reasons for this. Menator has struck a double blow. Menator has sent Tor to destruction in a war which has severely weakened Stokos. Menator, in the fullness of time, will obviously launch another invasion on the war-weakened island of Stokos – but with no need to share the rule of the place with Tor once it has been conquered.
Drake will see, then, that Tor has been suckered – the ogre king has done Lord Menator's dirty work for him, gaining nothing in the process.
Drake will meet with Jon Disaster, who will by then have come to Runcorn as a spy for pirates planning a raid on the place. Disaster will tell Drake that his brother Heth is still missing; that Lord Menator has put a price on the head of King Tor, and on the head of Drake Douay. Drake will thus learn that Menator truly does fear him as a potential rival to the throne of Stokos.Drake will ask:
'What of Walrus and Warwolf? What do they say of this price put on my head?' And Jon Disaster will answer:
'They cannot oppose Menator, for so many of their best men are dead that their own power has come close to nil. They work on ship for Abousir Belench, and count themselves lucky to have the berth.'
Drake will be shaken and shocked. He will realize his hopes and dreams have been destroyed. No hope of returning to the Teeth! No hope of linking up with King Tor, whose whereabouts are unknown. No hope of marrying Tor's daughter for an easy throne. He will have to shift for himself in the cruel and friendless world.But at least he will have Zanya Kliedervaust at his side.Anyway: all that lies in the future.
For the moment, it is evening at the southern border of Estar, a desolate place where a ruinous flame trench reaches for three thousand paces between mountain cliffs and the sea.
To the sea Drake walks, alone, bearing a handful of ashes. It is time. In the season of death, he must honour the memory of the dead.
Alone in the cold grey evening, alone by the tumultuous seas, he treasures the ash in his hands while he lists the dead.
First the weapons muqaddam, whose name he never learnt. To him he owes the gift of weapons. Quin Baltu, the foul-mouthed muscle-man, who spoke for him in the face of the Warwolf's wrath. As did Harly Burpskin, who was whipped raw for his pains.
They have gone down into the darkness, as we, too, in our turn, will go down into the darkness.Remember them.
Drake names Shewel Lokenshield, who hit him in the face once with a dead fish, but who shared good beer with him in Narba in the days when he could still get drunk. Aye. As did Lee Dix, Goth Sox and Hewlet Mapleskin. All good men. All killed in the Warwolf's battle with sea serpents in the Penvash Channel.We could have been closer. Given time.
Life is so short! Drake remembers the bones he saw in the Wishing Tower in the land of Ling, back in the long-ago days when life was young and simple.
And I, in time, will make bones.
Meanwhile, he says a parting for poor old Tiki Slooze, and for Salaman Meerkat.
I hardly knew you. Yet you shared food in the time for sharing. Aye. I'd not have thought it. But don't hold that against me.
Cold wind. The louring sky. Ashes in his hands.
Remember, now. Pru Chalance. Killed and eaten by northern barbarians.
A stranger. Man, that's weird. So close to so many, yet knowing them not.
So what can be said for Pru Chalance? That he lived. He breathed. He dared his chance. As did Ching Quail. And Jez Glane, yes, and Raggage Pouch. And Peg Zuzilman – taken by a centipede, and surely dead. A terrible way to die.But it's never easy.
Live hard, die hard. I miss you all. The weapons muqaddam most. A man amongst men. And he spoke for me too, yes, when Arabin was hot for murder.
Once more Drake runs through the names, searching for those he's missed. Then he treasures the ashes to the waters.Be well.
None of those pirates who died would have expected anyone to weep for them, yet, here by the shores of the Central Ocean, Drake does weep for them. And for his sister, who cut her throat when she found herself dying from blue leprosy. He understands her life better now, and realizes how rough she had it. He weeps, too, for himself – for do we not all, in the end, go down into that darkness?
And he weeps as well for the golden kings and their tumultuous empires, for the beauty of women and the laughter of the young, and for the valour of the suns themselves which burn burn and burn, down through the generations, though they too go down in the end to the darkness.
Last, he learns his grief for the two nameless Collosnon warriors he murdered in a tent by the shores of the island Chag-jalak, far away in the waters of the North Strait.
You or me. That's how it was. I don't apologize. But forgive me.
The wind braces him as he walks back to the ruinous fort on the border. And rain has washed the tears from his face by the time he reaches the fireside. Where Zanya is waiting.
Tonight. At last.Lips to be lips.Flesh to be flesh.Two to be one.Silence.Fadeout.Night.