The Wanderers of the Water-Realm (21 page)

The boatmaster lay back inside the cushioned interior of Agar-Marduk’s personal litter, as the conveyance was borne as swiftly as possible through the dangerous old quarter of Calar. He could clearly make out the muffled footfalls of the six burly guards who protected the litter, but he still kept a firm grip upon the hilt of his dagger in case a sudden attack by street robbers should overwhelm his escort.

It was still early morning, for Darryl had insisted upon leaving the merchant’s house a good hour before dawn, in order to cross the old quarter a little after first light and reach the ‘Street of Women’ as early in the day as possible.

The ex-boxer was in a far from jovial frame of mind, for he held himself partly responsible for George’s abduction. ‘If only he had prevented Myra from visiting the Temple of Dumteck.’He thought. ‘Then she would have been present and her inner-eye would have given them ample warning of the attack in the ‘Street of Bone-carvers.’

He even chided himself for leaving the ‘Bonny Barbara’ yesterday morning, instead of continuing the preparations for their journey to Holy Ptah, rather than allowing George and himself to go wandering about Calar like a pair of choirboys on a church outing.

He even began to doubt his fitness to command the party, but he summoned up his remaining confidence and thrust his doubts aside, for he realized that his actions alone held the best chance of saving the young boat hands life. He therefore bit his lip and resolved to continue with the plan of action that he had carefully formulated the evening before. George’s abductors, he reasoned, were probably keeping a close watch on the merchant’s house and he believed that it was quite possible that the litter and its escort would be followed from the moment that it left Agar-Marduks residence. Darryl had therefore instructed the senior bearer to pass by some secluded spot, near to the ‘Quarter of all Pleasures,’ were he could slip away from the conveyance, unobserved, thus leaving the litter and its escort free to return to the merchant’s house by a circuitous route and hopefully drawing away any observers who might be following upon their heels.

The senior bearer had stated that he knew of a secluded alleyway, not far from the ‘Street of Woman,’ where the boatmaster could leap from the shelter of the litter and hide in one of the many dark side-alleys, without much chance of being detected. Darryl had rewarded the man with a copper disc and the bearer had also agreed to inform the boatmaster, when they had safely passed through the dangerous old quarter of the city and give a sharp tap upon his carrying handle once they drew abreast of the side-alley where the boatmaster planned to alight.

Afurther half an hour elapsed before the head bearer quietly whispered that the litter was now clear of the old quarter and, a short time later, the boatmaster heard the bearer clearly say that they were now approaching the place where he must alight with all speed.

Darryl’s left hand was upon the curtain and his right hand was grasping his naked dagger when the head bearer gave the anticipated tap upon his carrying handle; without a moment’s hesitation, the young man hurled himself from the litter and then lay quite still amidst the shadows of the side-alleyway. He looked back into the main passageway and waited. Moments later, he witnessed two dark figures flitting briefly past the mouth of the side-alleyway. Darryl smiled grimly to himself, for he now knew that his suspicions had been correct and both the merchant’s town house and its occupants were being kept under constant observation by George’s abductors.

The boatmaster waited a little longer and then he rose and brushed the dust from his clothing. He listened for a moment and then he followed the narrow side-alley until it opened out into a wide avenue called ‘Happiness Road’, which, according to the head bearer, led directly to the heart of the ‘Quarter of all the Pleasures.’

As directed, he turned left and walked at a brisk pace along the neatly flagged pavement that flanked the main road, and, as he walked, he realized why this quarter of Calar had received its particularly descriptive name; for the entire avenue was lined with opulent establishments offering a wide range of entertainments. In the space of a few hundred paces, the boatmaster passed an amphitheatre where the hoarding advertised a wide range of sporting events. Theatres were exotic music and dancing was performed on a daily basis. A public bathing establishment that was flanked by numerous gambling halls and restaurants of every shape and size, offering a range of elaborate dishes that made Darryl’s head spin. However, few customers were to be seen, for the trading day was only just beginning and this was exemplified by the large number of heavily laden tradesmen’s carts using the roadway to replenish and re-victual the district.

After a further ten minutes of brisk walking, Darryl came to an intersection where another avenue branched sharply to the right that he immediately recognized as the infamous ‘Street of Women’ because of a large obscene mural on the side of a nearby building, that depicted naked men and women performing a wide variety of sexual acts.

It was early and only a few jaded prostitutes could be seen disporting themselves on the numerous first floor balconies, in the faint hope of attracting the attention of some stray pedestrian.

Darryl had no difficulty in finding the establishment known as the ‘Crimson Nipple’ for it stood only about a hundred paces from the intersection and, like most of the adjoining establishments, it was shuttered up and closed for business. Indeed, the only human activity that could be seen was that of a male servant who was energetically scrubbing the long flight of steps leading up to the brothel’s front entrance.

The boatmaster confronted the man.

“Greetings friend,” he said. “I wish to speak with Ali, son of Grom, who I believe resides in this house.”

The man did not pause in his task or even bother to look up at the newcomer.

“Then you had best return this evening, master,” he replied, “and you can have your pick of Ali’s women.”

Darryl grasped the man by the shoulder, hauling him upright and then showed him the disc of shining copper that lay in the palm of his hand.

“I wish to speak with Ali, son of Grom.” He repeated. The man looked fixedly at the coin and the bitter battle between greed and fear was plain to see upon the man’s features, but greed won and the man took the copper coin.

“In the name of the Gods!” He exclaimed. “Don’t tell anyone who gave you the information, but Ali dines at the ‘Blue Do-fowl Tavern’ at this time of day and you may catch him there if you can find a fast litter.”

The boatmaster slipped his dagger half way out of its sheath.

“You wouldn’t be cheating me floor-scrubber?” He hissed, but the man shook his head vigorously.

“No master.” He replied, shrinking away. “Follow my directions and you will find the man that you seek. You will certainly recognize him, for his face would stampede a whole tribe of Hix!”

Darryl waved down a fast passenger litter at the junction with ‘Happiness Road’ and he was quickly borne across the quarter to a small tavern lying in a secluded avenue.

The tavern, he noted, was fronted by a garden containing a number of tables and chairs, doubtless for the use of those of its clients who valued the open air and who enjoyed the perfume from the beds of aromatic herbs growing on every side. It was still only an hour before midday and only a single customer was to be seen relaxing in the pleasurable surroundings.

Darryl drew closer and a single glance told him that he had found the man he was seeking, for the individuals face looked as though it had been smashed in by some red hot object. The cheekbone on the right hand side of the man’s face had been flattened inwards and a good half of his nose was missing, along with a sizeable portion of his lower jaw and this vision of disfigured humanity was horrifyingly completed by a mass of crimson burn tissue covering the remainder of the man’s face. The man looked up at the boatmaster with eyes that were as cold and expressionless as those of a dead fish.

“Stranger, what do you want of me?” He spat out abruptly.

“I know you to be Ali, son of Grom.” Darryl replied. “Noor-Balsam, the armsmaster to whom you owe your life, told me to go in search of you if I was ever in need of help in the city of Calar.”

Ali, the son of Grom, drew up a chair and shouted for the landlord to fetch two tankards of the strongest Thoa-nut beer.

“I had a feeling that today would be cursed.” Ali said, stroking his disfigured face.

“Many long years have passed since I last set eyes on Noor-Balsam, now you have arrived, stranger, and reminded me of the debt that I owe the man. Aye, and of everything that happened in the old days. Well, no man can say the son of Grom ever evaded his obligations, so tell me how I can be of service to you?”

Darryl swallowed a deep draught of the powerful brew and related the happenings of the previous day whilst his cruelly disfigured companion listened intently.

The boatmaster eventually fell silent and Ali shook his head.

“Your friend can thank the Gods if he lives for more than another darkening, yet something may perhaps be done. Now think hard young man and tell me if you noticed anything peculiar about the dress of the men who carried off your friend?”

Darryl cast his mind back to the previous day and thought hard before answering.

“I was a good distance from George’s attackers, but I caught a fair glimpse of them as they passed beneath one of the street-torches; but I can tell you they were all dressed differently, except for the last three who wore black skull-caps with long red tassels hanging down the back.”

Grom struck the table with his fist.

“I thought as much, this abduction was the work of one of the old pirate families and the black skull-cap with a red tassel hanging down the back, is the hallmark of the old and much feared ‘Blood-spill’ clan.

The boatmaster looked surprised. “I was told that all of the pirate families dwelt close to the great rivers and shunned all heavily populated settlements?”

“Most do.” The disfigured man replied. “But a few families, who were driven from the river by their fellow robbers, have managed to settle in the old quarter of Calar in recent times. The demons have become a perfect menace and even the city guard has difficulty containing them.”

He paused.

“The ‘Blood-spill’ clan has a stronghold on top of one of the highest towers and that is where your friend will be held. Tonight we will attempt to rescue him. I keep a room at this beer-house and you must rest here until evening. I must go now for I have many preparations to make. Tomorrow, your friend will be a free man or we shall both be as dead as fresh narrs-meat!”

The hours of daylight passed with agonizing slowness for the boatmaster. He attempted to catch some sleep on the bed in Ali’s room, but he was unable to do so and he was heartily glad when the Water-Realm night fell with its usual suddenness.

The son of Grom arrived an hour later, carrying a large bundle wrapped in Thoa-cloth.

Without uttering a word of greetings, he cast his burden upon the bed and opened the wrapping. First of all, he drew out a razor sharp ‘Gill,’which he handed to his companion and his face gave a convulsive twitch, the nearest the man could get to a smile.

“If Noor-Balsam was your armsmaster,” he said. Then you will certainly be able to handle one of these toys and you are likely to have need of it before this darkening is over.”

Ali then produced a long cylindrical weapon that resembled an African blowpipe that Darryl knew to be a spring-powered poisoned dart throwing weapon called a ‘Perm.’ He gently caressed the weapon with the palm of his hand.