The Wordsmiths and the Warguild (43 page)

       
One of the Rovac
warriors checked the tunnel leading from Draven's cave home.

       
"It's all
clear," he said.

       
Yet Draven's shout had
made the bodyguards suspicious, hostile, aggressive. In this foreign place they
were quick to take alarm, and slow to relax.

       
"Please," said
Togura, wishing to avoid an incident in which his head might get lopped off by
accident. "He's drunk. I've seen him like this before. His brain's
half-rotted. Waking nightmares attack him, then he screams."

       
The bodyguards,
mollified, withdrew, taking Alish - who was now totally insensible - with them.
Once they were well and truly gone, Draven began to swear, viciously. His anger
needed an audience, and he poured out his heart to Togura. Despite his speech
at the banquet, Draven wanted nothing more to do with the mad adventures
planned by Elkor Alish.

       
" ... so I arranged
for twenty of the best to be here tonight," said Draven. "On the word
'Strike!' they were to do just that. Alish should be dead by now, by rights. We
should have this death-stone which gives him his power. We should have his
magic bottles, too, and the rings which command them."

       
Thus spoke Draven. And,
after enlarging for some time on the habits, appearance and ancestry of the
twenty cowards who had broken their word to him, he turned on Togura:

       
"So now you'll have
to do the job."

       
"Me?"

       
"Yes, you. Get into
his sleeping quarters. Kill him. Steal the death-stone. While you're about it,
steal the rings and the magic bottles. There's one red, one green."

       
"Green and red
rings?"

       
"No, fool! Green
and red bottles. The rings are on his fingers. You'd have seen them tonight, if
you'd been watching."

       
"This is
madness," said Togura.

       
"Twenty men have
let me down tonight," said Draven. "How do I knwo who they're talking
to now? Any of the twenty might betray us to the Rovac."

       
"Us?"

       
"Yes, us. You and
me. You're known as my associated. Do you think they'll think you're innocent?
Take your harp. Bluff your way to Alish's bedside. Then knife him. Take what we
need."

       
"This," said
Togura, "is crazy."

       
"It's our only
hope!"

       
And, shortly, Togura was
on his way to Alish's quarters. Draven halted at the last tunnel-turning.

       
"I'll wait
here," said Draven. "Be swift. Be sure. Be certain."

       
"But he might wake
and kill me!"

       
"He won't wake. Not
tonight. That last wine I fed him was drugged. You're safe, I guarantee
it."

       
Trembling, Togura set
off down the tunnel, harp in one hand, and oil lamp in the other. Eight guards
were on duty outside Alsih's quarters. When he drew near, they challenged him
in their own native tongue, which he did not understand.

       
"Peace," said
Togura, speaking in a low, even tone; he didn't want anyone getting
over-excited and attacking him. "My name's Togura Poulaan. I'm here to
tell you about a plot to kill Elkor Alish. It's Draven who wants to kill him.
Draven's waiting close at hand. You can grab him now. Chop his head off -
that's what I'd do. Do you understand?"

       
The Rovac warriors
didn't seem to. The bodyguards who had carried Alish away from Draven's cave
house had gone off duty; this was a new set of guards, and it seemed none of
them spoke Galish.

       
"This is very
important," said Togura, speaking urgently. "Elkor Alish, understand?
Killing. Chop chop!"

       
The guards looked at
each other, and conferred in their alien tongue. They saw the harp; a couple of
them recognised Togura from the banquet. Finally one of them gestured: he was
free to enter Alish's quarters.

       
"No, no," said
Togura. "That's not what I want! I want - "

       
The guard grew impatient,
and gave him a push.

       
He went sprawling,
losing his grip on harp and oil lamp. The lamp went out. One of the guards, a
bit of a bully, gave him a kick in the backside. Togura snatched up his harp
and went bundling through some heavy door hangings, entering Alish's quarters.

       
The first room, a
windowless cube hewn out of solid rock, was lit by a single long-burning
candle. It was a living room; there were some sheepskin rugs on the floor, a
couple of leather-padded chairs, a couch, some cushions, a couple of low-slung
tables, and, set in niches around the walls, a collection of tobacco-coloured
shrunken heads.

       
More heavy door hangings
barred the way into the next room. Togura, breathing heavily, made his mind up.
He would wake Elkor Alish. If Alish was too heavily drugged to wake, then he
would sit up - all night, if necessary - until Alish did wake. Alish spoke
Galish. Alish would have Draven's head chopped off.

       
That was the only
reasonable thing to do. Togura, after his near-drownings, his illnesses, his
bone breakages, his captivities and his throat-shaving escapes, was acutely
aware of the fragility of his own existence. The Rovac warriors frightened him
from nerve ends to bone marrow; the very last thing he wanted was to bring down
the wrath of the Rovac nation on his own head.

       
Boldly, he went into the
inner chamber.

       
Elkor Alish was sleeping
in a narrow bed, his body covered with a wolf skin.

       
"Alish," said
Togura, trembling, stepping toward him.

       
Then someone touched him
from behind. Shocked, he whirled, slamming an uppercut into his assailant's
jaw. His attacker fell, knocked unconscious. It was a she! And she was naked!

       
Now what had he done?

       
He had over-reacted, knocking
out Alish's bedtime playmate.

       
There was a grunt from
the bed.

       
Togura turned to see
Alish throwing aside the wolf skin. He had been put to bed armed and fully
dressed. He started lugging his sword out of its sheath.

       
Togura smatched up a
small table. As Alish lurched toward him, he threw it. Smashed by the table,
the Rovac warrior went down.

       
Togura felt sick.

       
What a mess!

       
Was Alish dead?

       
No - despite the drug
Draven had fed him, and a heavy blow from the table, he was still breathing.
But he had taken a hard crack on the head. Exploring the warrior's skull,
Togura's fingers detected a massive bruise already forming.

       
He was horrified.

       
Should he wait and see
if Alish recovered consciousness? A nice idea indeed - one of the guards
outside might come in to check on his leader. And then what would happen? It
would be head-in-lap time for Togura Poulaan.

       
He had to get away.

       
He had to get out of
here. And off the island. He would have to ask Draven to help him. But Draven
would be after his blood if he came back without the death-stone. And the
rings. And the bottles.

       
Togura looked around,
desperately. He saw a small bottle decorated with green glaze. That must be one
of the magic bottles which people spoke about - bottles in which an army could
hide. Now - the rings. He looked at Alish's hands. Finding one ring only. Where
was the other one? Where was the red bottle? And where was the death-stone?

       
He searched, swiftly,
but did not find what he sought. One ring, then. He took it off Alish's hand,
with difficulty, for it was a tight fit. A ring and a bottle. How was he going
to get them out of here?

       
He stuffed the bottle
under his clothing, but it made an obscene, bulbous lump. There was no way to
crush it down so it would lie flat and inconspicuous. In the end he hid it
under his clohtes, but jammed up into his armpit. That was where it was least
conspicuous, though he had to keep an arm in close to his body to hold it in
place. Now - the ring. Simple! He popped it into his mouth for safe keeping.

       
Then left, harp in hand,
bottle under arm.

       
From the inner chamber
he went to the outer chamber, and from the outer chamber he went to the tunnel
beyond. There, the guards grabbed him. He was so startled that he swallowed the
ring.

       
One of the Rovac guards,
speaking incomprehensible foreign words, asked him something.

       
"Do you want me to
explain myself all over again?" said Togura, catching the note of
interrogation in the man's words. "Well, the long and the short of it is
that I've raided Elkor Alish's quarters. I've taken a bash at his resident sex
toy. I've smashed the man himself - he'll possibly die tonight. I've taken his
green bottle, which is this goiterous lump under my arm which I hope none of
you are looking at. And I've just swallowed the magic ring which commands that
bottle. That was your fault. You startled me. Now let me go!"

       
And he pulled himself
free.

       
One of the guards
grunted, and gave him a kic, and he set off down the tunnel at a sedate walk.

       
Draven met him.

       
"Did you get the
goodies?"

       
"One bottle
only," said Togura. "No death-stone. No rings."

       
"Did you search his
clothing? His bedding?"

       
"No, but - "

       
"Fool! He'll have
them in bed with him, or next to his skin. Give me that bottle! Give it! That's
better. Now go back for the rest. Now! This instant!"

       
"But - "

       
"No buts, or my
slice will unsplice you. Back! Back!"

       
Togura took a few
hesitant steps back the way he had come. Then he heard shouts of anger, rage
and alarm coming from the direction of Alish's chamber.

       
"Draven," he
said, "I think we're in trouble."

       
And they fled.

Chapter 41

       
Draven and Togura
escaped from the wrath of the Rovac by putting to sea in a dinghy. They didn't
go far. Dawn found them in a sheltered cliff-walled inlet.

       
"Strip!" said
Draven.

       
"What?"

       
"Take your clothes
off."

       
"Are you mad?"

       
"Do what I
say!"

       
Togura, reluctantly,
obeyed. Draven searched him and his clothes minutely.

       
"So you haven't got
it," said Draven, disappointed.

       
"I haven't got what?"

       
"The death-stone.
What else? You let me down, you useless heap of turdshit. You failed me. After
all I've done for you! We could have ruled the universe. I should cut you up
for sharkmeat!"

       
Draven, angry, thwarted
and vengeful, seemed to be working himself up to a killing rage. Togura, eager
to make amends for his failings, almost blurted out the truth about the missing
ring to command the green bottle. Then restrained himself, suspecting that
Draven might cut to his gut to be sure of getting his hands on it. As Draven
drew his knife, Togura cried:

       
"It's the dralkosh!
Yen Olass Ampadara! The evil one! She's making you do this! You're still under
her spell!"

       
"What?" said
Draven, amazed.

       
"Yes," said
Togura, desperately. "You told me all about her. She killed you. She
chopped you up. She resurrected you."

       
"Oh ... that,"
said Draven.

       
The pirate was, for some
reason, suddenly acutely embarrassed. All the rant and rage drained out of him;
looking rather shamefaced, he sheathed his knife.