‘Where I’d probably be killed as a marauder,’ said Qa.
‘No, no,’ said Alfric, sounding shocked. ‘Not at all. Your fame has gone there in advance. Here, I have an official invitation from the Emperor of Tang himself. You’re invited there to be court poet. They admire poetry of your kind. Phenomenological stones. They broke into open applause when they heard about it.’ Perhaps Alfric overstated the case somewhat. Nevertheless, the substance of what he was telling the dragon was true. The invitation was genuine. The Flesh Traders’ Financial Association very much wanted Alfric to succeed in his quest and make himself Wormlord, so an immense amount of trouble had been put into cooking up a deal which would appeal to the sea dragon Qa.
‘There remains,’ said Qa, ‘the problem of translation. I don’t imagine they speak Toxteth in Tang.’
‘No,’ said Alfric, ‘they don’t. Scarcely anyone does, once you get outside Wen Endex. They speak Toxteth in Port Domax, of course, but I don’t think it’s heard in many other places.’
‘So all my poetry would have to be translated.’
‘Well… yes.’
‘So my true genius could never be properly appreciated. It can’t be, you know. Not in translation.’
‘But you’d have a most admiring audience,’ said Alfric, trying to be encouraging. ‘Anyway, you could always learn the stuff they speak in Tang.’
‘No,’ said Qa. ‘I can’t. I’m too old to learn another language.’
‘But,’ said Alfric, ‘sea dragons are famous for their intellectual agility. I’m sure you’d soon adapt. Come on. You can do it!’
‘No,’ said Qa, despondently. ‘I’m too old, and I know it.’
Then the dragon began to cry once more, and a most melancholy sight it made. Alfric lost patience. He got to his feet.
‘What’s this?’ said Qa. ‘You want to get down to the fighting and killing?’
‘No,’ said Alfric, stamping his feet. ‘I want to get warm. I’m soaked to the skin and in danger of dying of hypothermia.’
‘Well then,’ said Qa, ‘warm yourself up quickly, for we really must get to the fighting bit.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that’s exactly essential,’ said Alfric.
‘I’m afraid it is,’ said Qa. ‘Honour and all that. It’s all I’ve got left, you see. My honour as a Yudonic Knight and a loyal servant of the Wormlord. What do you want to use as a weapon? You’ve got your own sword, of course, but there are a few other weapons lying about. They usually want to use the ironsword, but it’s rusted, as you see.’
‘I can’t, actually,’ said Alfric. ‘I mean, I don’t know where it is.’
The dragon pointed it out.
Strangely, the hilt of the ironsword Edda was undamaged; it appeared to be made of a metal more durable than the rest. But the blade had suffered bitterly from the seasalt, which had reduced the weapon’s striking strength to a wavery slither of black-buckling metal.
‘So they usually go against you with their own swords,’ said Alfric.
‘Usually, yes.’
‘And you kill them. Usually.’
‘No,’ said Qa. ‘Not usually. Always. It’s very simple. I breathe fire into the water, you see.’ The dragon dabbled its claws in one of the puddles, demonstrating the prodigious quantities of water which were conveniently to hand. ‘That fills the air with steam,’ said Qa. ‘So they can’t see. Even if it’s daytime. There’s cracks in the rocks above, you see. If it’s daytime there’s light in the cave. Anyway, the steam blinds them. Usually they flail around a bit with their swords. Then I attack.’
‘How?’ said Alfric.
‘Well,’ said Qa, ‘in my younger days, I used to bite off heads. Of course I broke the occasional fang on an iron collar or such. Then the rest of my teeth fell out with the onset of age. So these days I usually stand back and throw things.’
‘Throw things?’ said Alfric.
‘Well, rocks,’ said the dragon.
So saying, Qa secured a skull-sized rock with his talons.
‘See that helmet?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ said Alfric.
The helmet sat atop a dismal pile of shattered bucklers and mangled armour. Qa threw the stone with great speed and accuracy. The helmet was smashed back against the wall of the cave.
‘That’s… that’s remarkably good throwing,’ said Alfric.
‘Also a demonstration of intelligence,’ said Qa. ‘That’s what makes a sea dragon dangerous.’
‘Dangerous indeed!’ said Alfric. ‘Quite frankly, I don’t think I’ve got a chance of besting you in combat.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Qa, ‘because I rather like you. You’re much more polite than the average Knight. I mean, they usually rabbit on no end about me eating that child and all the rest. Well, maybe it was a breach of etiquette, but I don’t see that it was a sin. After all, something has to keep down the human population, doesn’t it? Humans have no natural predators to keep their numbers in check, so if it wasn’t for the occasional maneating dragon and such, you’d have a thousand million people or more living in Yestron alone.’
Alfric knew this was quite impossible, but nevertheless shuddered at such a nightmarish thought. A thousand million people! A ludicrous notion. But imagine…
‘What about sea dragons?’ said Alfric. ‘Is there anything that eats sea dragons?’
‘Oh, all kinds of things,’ said Qa. ‘Sharks, for example. Though sometimes we eat back. I’ve killed a good many sharks in my time, I’ll have you know. Used to make a sport of it. Then there’s sea serpents. Oh, and krakens of course. You know. The usual run of sea monsters.’
‘That sounds very interesting,’ said Alfric. ‘What say you tell me about it while we have a little meal? If I’m going to die, I’d like to die on a full belly, and to listen to some more of your poetry before I expire, if you don’t mind.’
‘Why, that sounds a capital idea,’ said the dragon. Then, mournfully: ‘But I’m afraid I don’t really have anything to offer you. It’s not much of a life here, you see. Seaweed, that’s what it mostly comes down to. Eating seaweed.’
‘Actually,’ said Alfric, ‘I’m partial to seaweed.’
‘Of course you are,’ said Qa, ‘you being a child of Wen Endex and all. But you like it cooked, don’t you? Humans can’t eat much of the stuff raw, oh no, I know that from past experience. I used to try keeping the occasional captive, when I had two of them. I sometimes did, you know. They didn’t always come alone, even though that’s the law. So I’d try to preserve some of the meat on the hoof. But they always complained most bitterly about the diet.’
‘As it happens,’ said Alfric, ‘I’ve some food in my pack. Pork, actually. I have heard it said that sea dragons are partial to pork. You’re most welcome to share it with me.’
‘Why, that’s very gracious of you,’ said Qa.
So Alfric opened up his pack and the pair began to banquet upon pork, with Alfric taking care to select the very best bits for the dragon. While they ate, they discussed Galsh Ebrek. Qa had heard of the untunchilamons, and was most interested in the progress of that breed of miniatures.
‘Maybe I could get one,’ said Qa. ‘As a pet. I’ve never had a pet, you know. It’s a pity I have to kill you, otherwise you could fetch me one.’
‘Doubtless you’ll get all you deserve in time,’ said Alfric. ‘Would you care for some more pork?’
‘Please.’
‘You’ve got quite an appetite,’ said Alfric.
‘Yes,’ said Qa. ‘Since this is winter, I have to eat extramuch. Otherwise I’d have to hibernate. Most sea dragons do, you know. All through winter. Of course, extramuch mostly means great quantities of seaweed. Fortunately, I’m able to vary the diet from time to time.’ ‘How?’ said Alfric.
‘With Yudonic Knights, of course,’ said Qa. ‘And their horses. Would you like some fresh horsemeat to go with your pork?’
‘I’d like that very much, if it were available,’ said Alfric. ‘For I’m rather partial to horsemeat. But unfortunately there’s no horse available.’
‘There is, you know,’ said Qa.
Then the dragon went to the back of the cave, dipped its talons into a generous crack in the rock, and hauled out something which smelt very much like fresh meat. It proved to be the haunch of a horse. A horse very recently dead, if Alfric was any judge — and he thought himself a good one.