– Crow old and die, doubtless webfooted before I die.
So thought Sean Sarazin, then fell asleep to dream of rain, grey and endless, rain spindling down through fog, of his hands old and withered, his spine curving. Old man Sean Sarazin, a living ghost in the marshlands, a dying dwarf croaking at his feet…
He woke with the certainty that the dream was pro- phetic, that his future was known and could not be escaped. And he became so depressed that thereafter he roused himself only to drink and to void wastes. His depression persisted until the day he woke to find the raft adrift in Lake Ouija, a tidal bulge in the river just south of Androlmarphos – and realised there were people on the shore.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
When Sarazin and Glambrax were taken from the raft, they were so weak that they were consigned to an infir- mary in Androlmarphos, and there they were fed for days upon broiled fish and the flesh of seabirds. As Sarazin's strength recovered, what he craved was not food but information. However, his keepers gently declined all requests for a briefing, saying it would tire him too greatly.
After three days, however, Sarazin was judged strong enough to see visitors, and was asked if he wished to receive any.
'An academic question,' Sarazin said. 'Surely nobody knows I'm here. And who in 'Marphos would know me?'
'On the contrary,' he was told. 'Everyone in the city knows of your arrival. As for those who wish to see you…' He was given a list. A long list.
There were people who had known him in Voice, Selzirk and Chenameg. Soldiers who had served under him in Tyte and Hok. Friends of friends and friends of the friends of friends. Servants and tavern keepers, poetasters and minor functionaries of the Regency. The very people whose demise he had so sincerely lamented as he drifted down the Velvet River on his raft.
Now that he knew so many to be alive and kicking, his desire to see them was zero. Though he did want a long talk with someone – anyone! – so he could bring his knowledge of current affairs up to date, he had no wish to be a tourist attraction, which was what he obviously was.
However, two names on the list of would-be visitors demanded his attention: Lord Regan and Jaluba. 'Those two,' he said. 'I'll see those two.' 'When?' 'Now!'
As it happened, Lord Regan and Jaluba did not attend Sarazin until the next day. They came together, hand in hand – and, to Sarazin's startlement, Lord Regan introduced Jaluba as his wife.
'My dearest and nearest,' said Lord Regan, and kissed her.
Lord Regan was wearing a skyblue military uniform, whereas Jaluba was – despite the heat of summer – wearing a coat made of fitch fur.
Sarazin had to admit that Lord Regan had made an excellent choice. Jaluba was but twenty years of age – and she was delicious. Any man would have wanted her. Sarazin did not begrudge Lord Regan possession of the woman, who sat quietly, the very picture of a damsel demure.
Nevertheless, Sarazin begrudged the marriage inasmuch as it made it impossible for him to demand the answers to some of the questions he had had in mind. Such as: where the hell had Jaluba gone to after she disappeared from Selzirk? Why had she disappeared on the day Plovey of the Regency had raided Sarazin's quarters? Had she perchance had anything to do with the theft of a bard, a prophetic book and certain documents from Sarazin's quarters?
However, plenty of other questions remained. And heartfelt greetings were scarcely over before he was asking them:
'How did you come to 'Marphos? And – where is my mother? I heard she'd fled to the Rice Empire. What about Fox? My father was going to seek your help. That was back in the autumn. There was a Door in Chenameg and – oh, it's a long story, but he was coming to see you. Jarl, too. What happened to them?'
'They reached me, one and all,' said Lord Regan. Tour mother and your father both. And Jarl. When the Swarms came, I went south to Narba to seek a passage to the Scattered Islands. But Fox and Farfalla went with Jarl to Hok. Jarl persuaded them they could find refuge there.'
'It's true!' said Sarazin. 'Didn't Jarl tell you about Elkin, about X-n'dix?'
'Oh, I've heard all about that,' said Lord Regan. 'Jarl told me – and, besides, I've heard all about your war stories thrice over from Jaluba's lips.'
And Lord Regan and Jaluba squeezed hands, then kissed. 'Well,' said Sarazin, 'can I get to Hok?' You could walk,' said Lord Regan. 'What about ships?' said Sarazin.
'No ships run from here to Hok,' said Lord Regan. 'We trade With Stokos, to be, sure. But not with Hok, for Stokos and Hok are at war, and the wizards favour Stokos.'
'Wizards?' said Sarazin. 'Pray tell, what's this about wizards?'
'Ah. So you don't know the story of today's 'Marphos. Is that how it is? Very well then. Listen, and I will tell
According to Lord Regan's account, as the Swarms approached, many refugees had been evacuated from 'Marphos. They had fled into the Central Ocean in ships, bound for the Scattered Islands or the Ravlish Lands. When the last ships had departed, there had been lawless rioting in the city, until an uncouth gangster had set himself up as warlord.
Then the city had suffered under the most foul and obscene oppression imaginable. Pack rape and cannibalism had been the least of it.
Finally, two ships had arrived, bearing wizards and soldiers of the Landguard who were loyal to those wizards. Lord Regan was on one of these ships, having joined it at Narba. War had ensued. After a bitter struggle, the wizards and their soldiers had taken over the city – but their victory had been marred by an outbreak of typhus.
After the depredations of tyranny, war and plague, scarcely three thousand people remained in Androl- marphos. With nets and lines, the people wrested fish from the Velvet River and the sea itself. They hunted seabirds and riverfowl. Or they worked under the supervision of the wizards, who had, among other things, set up a manufactory for siege dust.
Androlmarphos traded with Stokos, exchanging siege dust for firelight steel and other products.
What for the future?' said Sarazin. Will the wizards stay here in 'Marphos? Or take over Stokos, perhaps?'
'I cannot speak for that,' said Lord Regan, 'for these days I am but a soldier of the Landguard. They have given me a commander's rank, but, for all that, my position is lowly. I play no part in the high counsels where matters of state are decided.'
Then come with me to Hok!' cried Sarazin, fired with enthusiasm. There I must go, I can do nothing else. My mother and father are there, the tutors of my youth as well -and others, doubtless. That is my future, if anywhere.'
The depression he had suffered on his downriver journey had vanished. He had a goal, a mission, a purpose. To strive to Hok and join his family, or what was left of it. Lord Regan laughed.
'I am sworn to the service of the wizards,' said Lord Regan. "My future is with them. But perhaps… perhaps I can arrange your passage to Stokos.' To Hok,' said Sarazin, correcting him.
Yes, yes,' said Lord Regan, rising to go. To Hok. I come again tomorrow. Is there anything you'd like?' 'Grapes,' said Sarazin. 'Is that possible?'
'I regret not. But… wine? Yes? Sean Sarazin, I'm sure I can scavenge the most excellent wine. Now I must be off, for I've business to attend to – but Jaluba will stay a little longer and keep you company.'
Stay Jaluba did, but, though her presence was enchant- ing, her conduct was nothing if not chaste. Still, she did vouchsafe Sean Sarazin a single kiss before they parted.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
At first, a passage to Hok seemed impossible to arrange. And Sarazin certainly did not wish to dare the long trek along the coast – not with monsters of the Swarms on the loose. However, in due course Lord Regan brought him the good news. A ship would be made available and Sean Sarazin would be landed on the southern coast of Hok. 'Where precisely?' said Sarazin.