Wolf's-head, Rogues of Bindar Book I (35 page)

“Mollymuffins!” rasped Cedrek. “Do not lay fibs on me. The Dakkaw
would boil your bones and suck its juice before he would let you
walk here.” The butcher’s son tried to untwirl himself but was
unable to do so. He became increasingly agitated. Meanwhile Valere
was busy studying the mechanism of chains and gears. It was
complex. He lifted a pawl. It sent the chain grinding down a few
notches and Cedrek’s nose plunged headily into the wine-coloured
liquid, prompting a torrential gasp of sputters.

Valere hastily
rewound the ratchet; Cedrek bobbed up to normal height, spewing
water and cursing.

“Imbeciles!”
he cursed. “You are as heedless as koots, no less the bully Dakkaw,
who persists in dunking my head in this swiresucker vat for his own
amusement!”

“Our sincerest
apologies,” mumbled Baus. “The mechanism is rusty, unreliably
old.”

“Apologies?”
spat Cedrek. “Fine and nice! Let us see you dunk your head in this
grape juice, then all these ‘sorries’ will be amended.”

Baus held up a
placating hand. “No need for such irritable remarks, Cedrek. The
pawl is obviously flawed and easy for an unfamiliar hand to let
slip.”

Valere nodded
and twirled a finger at the gearworks.

Baus studied
the barrel with its viscous contents. A curious perplexity infused
his expression. Alerted by the prospect of feeding, several
fish-things swarmed to the surface in red and gold numbers. Baus
thought it was an uncommon genus of ‘porpsons’—or vicious
‘swiresucker’, a bottom feeder, whose leech-like orifice easily
clamped onto anything for nourishment. Baus reflected: the avidity
of the fish explained the rather shabby condition of Cedrek’s
face.

Sputtering
rancour, Cedrek could not yet adequately discern the fantastic
visitors that remained just out of visible view, a fact which
seemed to unnerve him even more. The water stung his eyes, acrid
from the defecation of the swiresuckers.

Baus surveyed
the ‘tank’ with sombre-eyed scrutiny. He advanced to better study
the ‘hanging apparatus’ which the Dakkaw had cleverly concocted.
Instantly his eyes shot up in recognition. “What an ungainly
appliance the Dakkaw has built for you, Cedrek! Your plight
intrigues me! What deeds have brought you floating over a horrid
barrel of porpsons? Truthfully, I am at a loss; I am in awe of the
circumstance. The Dakkaw’s tales are surely fulsome—but we would
like to know the bare truth.”

Cedrek’s
manner grew more unpleasantly terse. “It is an enthralling
chronicle, with which I shall certainly entertain guests at a later
time, however currently I am under duress and I would urge you to
assist me! Currently I am unable to disengage myself from this
apparatus.”

“The fact
speaks plainly enough,” agreed Baus.

“Well, I’m
glad that we concur on at least one point. Now! Fetch me the
Dakkaw’s key, so that I may loose myself from these abominable
chains. My legs creak with grievous aches and chills. Hastily,
lagbags!”

Baus put on a
grimacing frown: “Let us not become overeager, Cedrek. Gaps are
still outstanding in regard to your histories and exploits. Since I
am an individual who analyzes details before committing deeds, I
must learn more about your predicament.”

Cedrek
considered Baus’s line of reasoning fastidious, but Baus reiterated
his concern of loosing a known felon into the world.

“The sentiment
is irrelevant!” shrilled Cedrek. “Now unshackle me and you shall
hear everything in its entirety!”

“That is a
presumptuous demand!” Baus cried. “If this is how you wish to play
it out, Cedrek, then—” He issued signals to Valere who, leading the
way out of the chamber, chuckled consentingly. Cedrek, upon hearing
the sounds of retreat, jerked his neck about with alarm and
indignation.

“Where are you
going?”

“To New
Krintz,” replied Baus. “My colleague and I have important business
there.”

“Business?”
cried Cedrek in spite. “What kind of business?”

“Obligations
and transactions, nothing more; they will brook no delay. The
Dakkaw is an incisive fellow.”

Cedrek gave a
bray of sullen laughter. “Are you telling me you conduct deeds with
the Dakkaw? He will boil your skulls, grind your femurs to meal.
The day he lets you leave this warren is the day he lets you simmer
in his stewpot.”

“This may well
be true,” observed Baus. “But no doubt we have maintained an upper
hand on the Dakkaw’s roguery.”

“Blather!”
shrilled Cedrek.

Baus peered
around, frowning. “I do not like that tone, Cedrek. Now, where is
that cock-eyed key? I see it nowhere in this dog-kennel.”

“Have you no
eyes? It hangs on the wall, plain as a lily!”

Baus and
Valere scoured the walls but they could spy no key or pin,
prompting Baus to scratch at his chin with wonder. Perhaps Cedrek’s
extended sojourn had caused him hallucinations?

Cedrek’s voice
escalated to a peevish whine, which only affirmed Baus’s suspicion.
“Why tarry, hounds?” the prisoner yelled. “You only have to snag
the key and bring it down from its perch, unclasp the rings binding
my ankles and save me from falling. Surely you jest in regards to
all this talk of transactions with the Dakkaw? Are you comics, or
halfwits?”

Baus’s
tolerance reached a threshold. He demurred. “Not at all, Cedrek,”
he replied coldly. “Acts as this would conflict with our covenant
with the Dakkaw, thus making us mean and dishonourable men—wouldn’t
it, Valere?”

“Very much
so,” remarked Valere gravely.

Cedrek howled:
“Get me down from here, you rotten knaves! Retards is a better
word!”

“Now you have
gone and done it,” rebuked Baus sternly. “Insults are an
irrevocable breach. Shall you do the honours, Valere?”

“Gladly.” The
seaman took the ganglestick from his hand and issued Cedrek a stiff
rap on the chest.

The ingrate
refused to freeze. The chest was clothed of material, a
circumstance which Baus explained as the source of the misfire.

Valere
recognized the mistake; jocundly he stripped Cedrek of his shirt
while reaching for his fish-white body, at which point, Cedrek
burst into a tirade of invective.

Rapping
Cedrek’s bare throat with the ganglestick, Valere grunted as Cedrek
finally became still, like a beast draining blood at the
abattoir.

Satisfied with
the work, Baus took back the baton and the two retraced their
steps, pausing on the way back to gather up a length of chain and
several shackles which they had found hid in a cobwebbed crate in
one of the store rooms.

Valere showed
a lukewarm grimace. “I do not like Cedrek’s attitude; his manners
are crass.”

“He is an
ill-mannered, pugnacious loon, agreed,” said Baus. “I can see why
the Dakkaw became irascible with him. Cedrek shall have the time he
needs to reflect on his many slips of tongue.”

Valere gave
his head a knowing shake. “At least this chain should do the trick
to bind the Dakkaw’s limbs. I harbour little trust in the ropes we
currently use. On the way to Krintz, chains of this sort will be of
utility.”

Baus nodded
approval. “The Dakkaw is an artful creature. We must be prudent and
wary.”

“Absolutely.”

“And
intelligent, no less!” cried Baus, flourishing his bodkin.

* * *

The two gained
Bisiguth’s main floor and found Rilben unsuccessfully attempting to
free the Dakkaw’s knots and restraints. Valere shouted an oath and
shooed him away. The grimacing creature disappeared into the gloom
and was nowhere to be seen. The Dakkaw’s wrists were still bound.
He could not pull free, and Valere’s rope-tightening earlier had
proven fortuitous. Now he chain-shackled him double-tight for
security before they herded him to the looming portal. Valere
unlocked the ancient mechanism and stared for some time at the
ogre’s impudent posture. The seaman slid back the heavy bolts; Baus
stood ever ready to administer a punitive measure with the
ganglestick should the ogre attempt an indiscretion.

The sky was
clear; the stars burned above like fireflies. A light breeze pushed
down from the northerly skies, urging murmurs through the weeds in
the rubbled court. Baus drew in a welcome draught. How glorious it
was to be in the air, not cloistered in desolate Bisiguth!

“What of
Rilben?” grumbled Valere.

Baus waved off
the ape as if he mattered little. “Rilben will have to fend for
himself.”

Cedrek and
Rilben were willingly and gratefully left behind.

With utmost
wariness, Valere kept strict control over the Dakkaw, via the cord
tied round his neck. Baus proposed it would be of better service to
hitch the Dakkaw to his own wagon for transport. Valere
enthusiastically endorsed the concept and before long, they were
sitting up in the wagon like kings. They lit their torches, while
the Dakkaw pulled the cart out of the courtyard and onto the main,
north-south promenade. He seethed with annoyance. The rubbled path
sheened in the moonlight, spectral cobbles glinting like bone. The
thoroughfare meandered toward the shadows of the ruined plaza a
hundred yards distant. Behind, Bisiguth spread like a blue-black
mantle of faraway enchantment from an earlier time.

The dazzling
stars tumbled away. The companions were well past the crumbling
gates of Old Krintz when the last tottering statues of the old city
fell behind. They were left with a barely-discernible flagstoned
path. It too dwindled to a ghost-shadow and forced them out on a
grassy sward where hedge and gorse loomed under the glare of
brands.

“On, Dakkaw,
on!” cried Baus impatiently. “To New Krintz.”

“To New
Krintz!” the Dakkaw muttered. He seemed equipped with more energy
than would be imagined. “Drearily it is to Krintz I toil to win my
bride!”

Baus gave a
loud acclamation to the ambition.

Valere
chuckled knowingly. “If this damsel you covet is as enchanting as
you describe, then all your slogging will be worth it, eh,
Dakkaw?”

“Your words
are as insolent as you are, Captain. But they indicate truth.
However, I urge you to minimize your sarcasm.”

“If she is
that haunting and spellbinding,” Baus announced, “perhaps I will
take her for my own.”

The Dakkaw
halted the cart and stared coldly at Baus for some time. He
growled, “Over my dead body!”

“A jest only,”
assured Baus. “Do not become over-petulant, Dakkaw! At present we
proceed to Krintz in amity!”

The Dakkaw
snorted, disliking Baus’s smiling insincerity. He gave his neck a
jerk, took up the reins, bounded forward with Herculean force. The
cart jolted ahead. They were bound for New Krintz.

“
A lord can
only be master of his house, if he does not fear the dark . .
.
”

—Anonymous
saying.

I

The wind died
and the air was very still, yet the long night was only beginning.
Despite the jaunty songs that Valere and Baus sung from their lofty
perches, the oppressive memories of Bisiguth remained on their
minds. Old Krintz was two leagues distant; they would not arrive
before midnight—or so the Dakkaw forecasted in his glib, highbrow
way.

Baus waved a
peremptory hand. “The distances are irrelevant. We have important
business to set in order regardless of the hour.”

The Dakkaw
made no comment.

The journey
continued. Except for some minor inconveniences, the voyage passed
uneventfully—barring an unexpected confrontation with a blue-eyed
yantler which the Dakkaw recognized as one of the
Nosofix
breed.

“Here, slay it
with your swords! I don’t relish having my shins gored.”

Valere swung
down and ran it through with a single stroke.

The torches
began to die. It was perhaps a few hours past midnight when the
cart creaked its way to the outer peripheries of Krintz. Baus
stared wordlessly at the stone pathway that weaved itself between
the ragged mulberries and fence posts like a tired snake. Two
armless, ghostly statues jutted out from nowhere, grinning down on
them without humour. Doubtless, these monuments had been looted
from Old Krintz, destined to spend their days standing vigil at
their gatepost. Grimness leaked from afar, small patches of pallid
light glinted through the mass of black baywolf trees, promising
news of the town to come.

The travellers
gained the wooden gate and stopped in appraisal, surrounded on each
side by a low rampart. The gate was barred, as the Dakkaw had
forecasted—but the rampart was erected with sharp wooden pales from
which the ogre stepped away angrily, gesticulating to the large
bulbs that were impaled over the parapet.

“Shallot and
cloves!” he spat.

Valere climbed
up on the mesh, discharging impatiently the bulbs. Baus identified
them as old, dried up impotent specimens—no cause for alarm.

The Dakkaw
primly disagreed. “Not at all. Age only increases the potency of
these bulbs. They are nothing less than poison to me!”

Baus kicked
gamely at the vegetables littering the ground. “Your worry is
unfounded!” The Dakkaw, for the time being, was appeased but failed
to notice the two small perennials that Baus stuffed into his
pocket.

Using his
manacles as a sledge, the Dakkaw smashed a great hole in the gate
and they all stood back with approving grins. The ogre pulled the
wagon forth, off into the shrubbery while Valere wound the rope
tighter round his neck as he trailed him. They discarded their dead
firebrands into the foliage. Baus wrapped his cloak tighter about
him; the three passed within the precincts of the village.

Stealthily
they made way down a trimmed lawn, illuminated by tall lamps,
filled with dim shadows cast by the tall hedgerows. The Dakkaw led
the way warily, but gained more confidence as he advanced. Valere
shambled behind, clutching the rope jealously. Baus followed at a
more circumspect distance. The ganglestick was raised to forestall
any contingencies that the Dakkaw might incite.