The guest room proved to be a quiet bedroom painted pink. It held an enormous double bed. The linen was clean, the sheets smelling of lavender, and Sarazin was shortly sound asleep between these sheets.
He slept right through that day and through the night which followed, only waking when he was roused for breakfast the following morning. Breakfast was good, very good. Fish fresh from the Velvet River. Roast pigeon. Fried potatoes. And a draught of dandelion wine to wash it all down.
Once breakfast was over, Sarazin was led into the presence of the formidable Drake Douay. 'Do you acknowledge me as your equal?' said Douay. 'You are the greater swordsman,' conceded Sarazin.
'Greater by nature and greater by birth,' said Douay. Then he took something from his pocket, held it up and said: 'What's this?'
Douay was holding a jet-black necklace chain from which hung a cool, glossy lozenge of an identical black. The lozenge turned slowly, so Sarazin saw first a golden sun disk, then seven stars and a crescent moon on the obverse. 'What's this?' insisted Douay.
'That,' said Sarazin, wearily, 'is the Lost Bard of Untunchilamon. My bard. Bought with my own money.'
'How do you know it as yours? Maybe it's somebody else's bard.' 'There was but one in all the world,' said Sarazin. 'Are you sure?' said Douay. 'Positive,' said Sarazin. 'Look at it!' said Douay. Sarazin took the bard and examined it.
'There,' said Sarazin. 'See? There's the damage done when you got my precious cut up in a street fight.'
'So,' said Douay, 'that is the Lost Bard of Untunchi- lamon. Then what is this?'
And Douay dangled before Sarazin's eyes another bard. He let Sarazin take it into his hands. Sarazin tried to make this new bard speak. It did so – in the voice of Saba Yavendar.
'Where – where did these come from?' said Sarazin, bewildered.
'I told you,' said Douay. 'I won many of such from Guardian Machines in desperate battle. All but one were stolen from me in Narba. As lord of the Gates I've been on the lookout for my stolen property. Man, don't look so shocked!'
'But – but Epelthin Elkin – he told me – he said – just one, that's all, that's what he said, only one of these was ever made.'
As Sarazin was blathering, Douay took back both bards, pocketed them, then said: 'You believe everything you're told?' 'Elkin's a wizard!' said Sarazin.
'A pox doctor, then,' sneered Douay. 'Aye, I've had dealings with wizards myself. Man, this magic stuff is fraud, if you ask me.' 'But the Confederation built Drangsturm and-'
'Oh, Drangsturm was pretty enough – I saw it myself before the South all turned to shit and custard. Aye, that and other things, Doors and flying islands and such, not that you believed me when I told. But I doubt that wizards ever made such, for the ones I've met can't do something as simple as a love philtre.'
'So Elkin was wrong,' said Sarazin. 'Or else he lied to me.'
'Whichever way, Watashi, I tell you straight. The bard you owned in Selzirk was but one of many. That I told you true. Yet you believed me not. Aye, tortured me on account of disbelief. I told you of Doors, too. You wouldn't believe those, either. Yet I've people here who've been through such.'
'I believe now,' said Sarazin. 'I've seen monsters come through a Door in Chenameg.'
'Oho!' said Douay. 'What you see you believe, and the rest of the world is a lie. If you weren't ready to believe speech, why torture me for speech?'
'I… I'm sorry. But… you… there were… I mean, you told not one story but five. You were… I mean, think of the names for a start. First you were Drake Douay, then the son of a Demon, then something else, then…' 'Aye,' said Douay, softly.
'Anyway,' said Sarazin, 'it was Jarl who did the torture. Jarl and Plovey and others.'
'But you who condemned me! I was innocent, yet you let me be taken for torture!'
'But… but it was so difficult,' said Sarazin. 'So difficult to believe your innocence when you told us so many different names and all.'
'Many names I went by, yes,' said Douay, 'for not all could be revealed. But now the worst has happened, so all may be revealed. It will do no harm.' 'I… I should like to know the truth,' said Sarazin.
Then Drake Douay revealed himself to Sarazin as Lord Dreldragon, heir to the Scattered Empire, a seapower realm of the Central Ocean.
'I am of the Favoured Blood,' said Douay, 'for it is the Favoured Blood which rules in the Scattered Empire. Mighty are our weaponmasters and beautiful our women. But, more than either, our kingdom values its honour.'
Then Douay explained that, years before, he had learnt of the doom which threatened Argan.
T learnt of it through prophecy,' said Douay, 'for we have true prophets in the Scattered Empire. My kith and kin thought Argan doomed, but then I was vouchsafed a prophetic dream. If I came to Argan on my lonesome, I might have a chance to save the place.
'But there was something I had to do, aye, this dream of mine showed me what was needed. There's a price for everything, man, and this is the price I had to pay. I had to come humble like, concealing my true identity.
This was the burden that was placed upon me. To leave all that was dear to me. To go humble, aye, like a sick cat slinking past a thousand hounds in kennel. Then, when doom came upon Argan, I was to rally the strongest and fight against the Swarms.
That I have done. Hence you find me here as lord of the Gates of Chenameg. But I've been weakened, aye, weakened by vile tortures, by filthy dungeons, by punish- ments unnatural and undeserved, and most of all by torture. It was you who did it, Watashi. You punished me in my innocence. You broke my strength. Hence, when Argan's peril came, I lacked the power to save the continent.'
Now Sarazin saw the depths of his own guilt, and he knelt at the feet of the noble Douay and he wept, helplessly. Until Douay raised him to his feet.
You know me now for what I am,' said Douay gently. 'I am of the Favoured Blood. You thought me a pirate, but I am no pirate, though hardship may have forced me to keep company with such. I am the scion of a noble house. Truly. I am of the Favoured Blood.
'When I came to these Gates, the evil Groth held them against the people, ruling with rape and torture. I over- threw his tyranny which oppressed the people, and now I hold the Gates in justice for all the people. My fee upon the traffic is moderate, for I take but ten per cent of all that moves.
'I rule, as I have said, in justice. Are you ready to receive my justice?' Sarazin dried his eyes and said in a voice without life: 'I am.'
'This, then, is my justice,' said Douay. 'I will not kill you, though death you richly deserve. Instead, I will let you depart from here with your life. Aye, with your life, and with food for the journey, and new boots for the trail.'
Then Douay led Sarazin to the eastern exit of his fortress palace, where Glambrax was waiting with two leather packs, one sized for a dwarf, one for a man. They were old, weather-scarred packs, smelling of the sweat of many soldiers.
'They're not pretty,' said Douay, seeing Sarazin looking at the packs dubiously. 'But they'll do the job. Strong, see?'
He picked up the larger pack by one of its shoulder straps and threw it to Sarazin. Who was almost bowled over by the weight. 'Grief!' said Sarazin. 'What's in it?'
'Oh, food and such,' said Douay. 'You couldn't travel with less.'
Sarazin thanked the magnanimous Douay for his mercy. And Glambrax, grinning, danced around the noble Douay, capering, bowing incessantly.
'Stop that!' said Sarazin sharply, horrified. This was no way to behave in the presence of one of the Favoured Blood!
Glambrax stopped capering, knelt, licked Douay's boots, then embraced him. At last, Douay slapped at the dwarf. Glambrax slipped away, grinning still.
'Must I leave?' said Sarazin to Douay. 'I would fain put my sword at your service.'