Okay,
then I’ll live until to get to the mainland, I thought.
“Fortunately,” said Bugsby, “a
trial can be legally held aboard ship, with the crew serving as jury. So we try
him, hang him, pickle what’s left of him, and go get the booty! I mean,
reward.”
As I learned, regulations stated
that the trial had to be held in daylight, I guess as a means of discouraging
impromptu nighttime mob justice or mutiny. I was clapped in irons and dragged
to the brig. A sleepless night awaited me. I lay there, the dark wood of the cell
like a coffin, my meager magic clamped off by all that iron, listening to the
gentle creak of the ship. The pirate-slayer I’d been imprisoned in creaked like
an old man. The Seaworthy had creaked
like any second it would shatter into toothpicks.
I had no ideas for escape. I was
about ready to give up on what I laughingly called my existence, and probably
would have except that A) these guys were being total jerks and shouldn’t get
their way, and B) Suzy was still stuck in that big stupid evil skull castle and
needed me.
Two sailors arrived with the dawn
to haul me out. They spoke not a word but pulled me along to the deck, where a
red sunrise awaited, and they chained me to the foremast where everyone could
get a good look at me. I said nothing, just tried to think, but my brain it that
state was as good at thinking as your average pumice stone. The sailors going
about deck duties stared. I recognized a couple of ex-pirates, but any hope
that they might show some kindness to an old shipmate was lost.
Even Kevin snarled at me when I
said I was glad he’d survived, and was that a new leg? Chic. I’d hoped to ask him if they’d found out that the Tegoran
pirate-hunter had not really been magically alerted to the Seaworthy by me, as Bugsby had claimed when we were captured, but
neither Kevin nor anyone else would talk to me. I had more friends in Mormor’s
dungeon than on this deck.
The sun was burning quite nicely as
the men were called to trial. I soon looked down on forty assorted seamen. The
sea was shining, little white caps waving at me, bye-bye. Astercam and Bourbon were dragged on deck, but they were
chained as well, and muzzled. The crew must have waited for the giant barbarian
to pass out or he’d have cracked a bunch of heads. I supposed he and Astercam were
under arrest for abetting an enemy of the king or something. I wondered if I’d
be alive long enough to find out.
“Mateys,” said Bugsby, his good eye
piercing the sailors to their hearts, “you see before ye the most contemptible
cur on the seven seas. No, not me, him! Bob, the most evil seadog a man could
meet. I can barely list his crimes here. But I will. He used wicked magicks
against a ship of Tegora. He betrayed, treasoned, and said nasty things about King
Maximo of Tegora (may his pet wombats sing his glory or somethin’). He has
fought as a pirate against ye, and is unrepentant. And worst of all, he has
failed to follow orders!”
The sailors gasped.
“Arr, mateys! Furthermore, we have
reason to believe he kidnapped a princess, and summoned a horrible two-headed
sea monster! I call for the death of this wicked wizard Bob, in a quick but
painful manner, as befits a horrid, mangy, dirty, nasty, unclean, despicable
vermin, who would throw his own sweet mother down a flight of stairs for the
fun of hearin’ her thump at the bottom. What d’ye say?”
They cried yea (or arr) and waved
their grog.
Bugsby sat, and Karkill stood
before the group.
“Men, warriors of the king,” he
said, “I come before you today not as a loyal servant of the crown, nor as a
fellow veteran, but in my capacity as a user of magic.” He pulled a bouquet of
roses from a sleeve as a demonstration, and tossed it to the crowd to a
smattering of applause. “It is not generally known, but we in the craft have a
long tradition of unsworn but unshakeable loyalty between master and
apprentice.”
News to me. Simon the Unsteady
would have fallen over laughing at that.
“This mage chained up here has
broken that sacred trust. He used the knowledge I gave him and turned against
me and the king. There’s only one punishment fitting for such a maggot, and you
know what it is!”
“DEATH!” came the response.
Karkill shot out some confetti,
took a bow, and left the stage for Chokolost.
Chokolost was looking splendid that
day, groomed and polished, exuding an aura of strength the way an old fish
exudes stink. He cast an iron eye on all present, fixing it on me at last.
There it lingered for some time. I gave a personable grin. It didn’t help. He
turned to the crowd and spoke.
“My fellow servants of the crown,”
he said, “our esteemed captain and the mage warrior Karkill have ample reason
to detest this villain strapped to the mast, for all he has done and is
believed to have done, but it is my duty to relate to you the details of his
verified and proven treason against the crown.”
The
jackass must have been taking eloquence pills or something, I thought.
“He and I were sent on a
confidential mission for his majesty, King Maximo the Seventh (may he stub not
a toe). We and other soldiers and mages were sent to find the ancient magical
artifact known as the Gallstone of the Gods. We journeyed through perilous
lands, reaching at last the labyrinth where the stone had come to rest. When
ordered to open a magically sealed door, our treacherous wizards tried to stall,
clearly terrified. It was fear of the monsters within the labyrinth, I thought
then. Now I think it was fear of our sovereign getting hold of the Gallstone of
the Gods.
“When their dithering became
dangerous, with our entire party exposed on a mountainside, I used the means at
my disposal to motivate them. Sure enough, this Bob proved totally capable of
opening the door, but first he cast a spell of confusion on my men, and my
mule, causing them all to fall off the mountain and perish. Only he and I were
left then, and it took all my strength and cunning to keep him from deserting.
“We wandered the labyrinth for
hours, or days, and it may be that he was purposely keeping us lost. But my
flawless sense of direction led us to the Gallstone, which was guarded by a
hideous and ferocious monster! I made ready to take it on in single combat,
when this mage winked out his magic light and plunged us into darkness! As I
cried out for help all I heard was his footsteps running away. And later I
would find out he was running away with the stone!
“I battled the monster fiercely,
and in end it tripp—that is, I struck it a critical blow to its tiny brain with
my sword. Wounded and alone, I wandered again for days until I found a way out.
“I eventually returned to Tegora,
where I was forced to admit defeat to my superiors. Then I was given some
shocking news. Lefro, one of the useless mages from our quest, had returned to
the city with the Gallstone, expecting a reward! We arrested him for desertion
and persuaded him to explain how he had gotten the artifact. He confessed that
Bob had given him the stone and sent him into town with it to get the reward,
which they would split. Perhaps they planned to meet in Purgor, for that was
where Bob was found hiding.
“Our attempt to capture Bob there
was thwarted by his magic arts, and he sought to escape on a pirate ship. We
have had many weeks of searching since, but now at last we have the blackguard.
Those of you who sailed with Captain Bugsby previously know some of his crimes
on the seas, but I can tell you this—Bob is a thief, a liar, a deserter, a
coward, and a self-serving practitioner of the dark arts, and the sooner he is
dead the better the world shall be!”
What a speech. I was about ready to
call for my own death. At least I knew now how Lefro had come to be in the
Purgor police station, blaming me for everything under the sun. I hoped that
the rotten little stinker was cooling his heels in some dinky cell back in
Tegora.
Bugsby once again stood before the
assembly. “Now, as ye know, the law requires that anyone who wants to speak for
the defendant may open his gob now. Anyone?”
“Mmm! Mmmm!” said Astercam,
rattling his chains and struggling against his muzzle.
“Anyone? Anyone at all? Well, then,
mateys…”
“MMMM!”
“…I say that it be time we put it
to a vote…”
“MMMMMMM!”
“…as the law of the sea under yon
Tegoran flag requires. All in favor of death for this scoundrel, say ARR!”
“Just a moment, Captain Bugsby.” It
was the first mate, Sanford. “The old man wants to say a word.”
“He probably has an itch or
something. Now, as I was saying, all in favor…”
“No, sir, it definitely looks like
he has something to say. And the law states that anyone, even another prisoner,
may speak for the defendant.”
“Arr!” Bugsby stamped around for a
few seconds in frustration, emitting almost visible fumes. Then he said, “Oh,
all right. Unchain the old fart.”
So Astercam, or as I’d come to
think of him, Good Ol’ Astercam, was set free and given the floor.
“Thank you,” said Astercam, “and a
lovely deck it is, too. Is this Gomblian teak? Looks rather like it with the
dark striations—”
“GET ON WITH IT!”
“Men of Tegora!” said Astercam. “I
do not come here to praise the virtue of my friend Bob, nor to excuse him for
his crimes. In a somewhat twisted manner, for example, the tale told by
Chokolost is true. Bob told me all about their unhappy quest. Why not? We were
stranded on an island and he had no reason to lie. But he also told me how the
villainous Lefro stole the Gallstone from him, throwing Bob from a cliff and
making off with the artifact, along with Bob’s food stores, leaving him to
perish in the wilderness. Bob left Chokolost in the labyrinth, yes, but he had
every reason to believe that the man was dead already.
“Consider this, too: Chokolost
accuses Lefro and Bob of fearing to let Maximo the Seventh (may he, uh,
something or other) get hold of the Gallstone. Then why would they conspire to
turn it in for a reward? Please, sergeant, do not contradict yourself so.
“No, Lefro, Bob, and the third mage
on the expedition were not afraid of the king’s power. They were foolish and
ill-trained (yes, Karkill, I said ill-trained!) and were forced to try
something beyond their powers. Their punishment for failure was to be hurled
off a mountain, which killed one mage and almost killed Lefro. Bob’s time in
the service of the military of Tegora was a tale of mismanagement and poor
personnel decisions, that is a fact, and as bright as your buttons and your ship
are, I’m sure you all have had some experience with this. C’mon, am I right?
“How would any of you like to be
executed on the spot for failing to tie a triple half-hitch? Or for missing a
stain with your mop? I think we need to understand the conditions our friend
Bob, a nearly powerless mage, was under and realize that for him, his actions
were not treason nor meant to be, but merely the desperate actions needed for
survival.
“I tell you, this trial is a
mockery! This man is no evildoer, no summoner of monsters and bad weather! Believe
me, we were in dire straits and I would know if he had any powerful magic. He
is simply a poor man pressed into awful servitude, trying to cling to life. If
he is guilty of anything, then I say, his accusers are guiltier still for
having driven him to it!”
Sailors were nodding and rubbing
their chins. Great speech! I thought.
Gods shower blessings on Astercam!
“And now,” he said, “allow me to
explain a little more in depth. We must consider the questions of jurisdiction
and relevant codes. You see, there is no one ‘law of the sea,’ as many sailors
tend to be believe, but rather a long history of maritime development of such laws.
Probably the first was propagated by the Emperor Zaschnuch, some three thousand
years ago, when the Risnigans rules the eastern part of the Joma lakes system.
The large bureaucratic apparatus beneath the emperor was not inclined to meddle
in the affairs of the wealth-bringing traders of the lakes, but such
lawlessness as pervaded the lakes system had begun to threaten colonies and
trading partners. With the rising popularity of the koonie bark as a flavoring,
the Risnigans…”
And that was all she wrote. After
fifteen minutes of the history of maritime law, the Risnigan empire, the koonie
bark trade, the Elfin tribes’ ocean explorations, Zaschnuch’s family intrigues,
the Kraken Question, and the spread of legalese on the wave, the sailors were
calling for Astercam’s death. He had done the worst thing he could at a trial
like this: He sucked the entertainment value right out of it. They chained him
up again and put three muzzles on him, on the theory that you can’t be too
careful.
As for me, Astercam’s brilliant
defense had been annihilated by his academic pontification. I don’t think a
single sailor even remembered the defense part. All they knew was they had bad
feelings now, and those feelings were connected to the weenie on the mast, and
if it weren’t for him they might be doing something fun, like sleeping or
playing with their ditty bags.
Bugsby spat on Astercam and took
his place again before the crowd. “Anything to say before the final vote?” he
asked me.
“I’m innocent?” I croaked.
“Anything relevant to say?”
“For the sake of love,” I said,
tired, “have mercy.”
So much chin music to this crowd.
They roared for blood. Specifically, the stuff I was full of.
