Tales From The Vulgar Unicorn

'I assume that what you want is illegal. If you really think I'd...'

'It is not illegal!' Jubal spat with venom. 'I don't need your help to break the law, that's easy enough to do despite the efforts of your so-called elite force. No, Hell Hound, I find it necessary to offer you a bribe to do your job - to enforce the law.'

'Any citizen can appeal to any Hell Hound for assistance.' Zalbar felt his own anger grow. 'If it is indeed within the law, you don't have to...'

'Fine!' the slaver interrupted. 'Then, as a Rankan citizen I ask you to investigate and stop a wave of murders - someone is killing my people; hunting blue-masks through the streets as if they were diseased animals.'

'I ... I see.'

'And I see that this comes as no surprise,' Jubal snarled. 'Well, Hell Hound, do your duty. I make no pretence about my people, but they are being executed without a trial or hearing. That's murder. Or do you hesitate because it's one of your own who's doing the killing?'

Zalbar's head came up with a snap and Jubal met his stare with a humourless smile.

'That's right, I know the murderer, not that it's been difficult to learn. Tempus has been open enough with his beagging.'

'Actually,' Zalbar mused drily, 'I was wondering why you haven't dealt with him yourself if you know he's guilty. I've heard hawk-masks have killed transgressors when their offence was far less certain.'

Now it was Jubal who averted his eyes in discomfort. 'We've tried,' he admitted, 'Tempus seems exceptionally hard to down. Some of my men went against my orders and used magical weapons. The result was four more bloody masks to his credit.'

The Hell Hound could hear the desperate appeal in the slaver's confession.

'I ca

A dozen excuses and explanations leapt to Zalbar's lips, then a cold wave of anger swept them away. 'You're right, though I never thought you'd be the one to point out my duty to me. A killer in uniform is still a killer and should be punished for his crimes ... all of them. If Tempus is your murderer, I'll personally see to it that he's dealt with.'

'Very well.' Jubal nodded. 'And in return, I'll fill my end of the bargain Kurd will no longer work in Sanctuary.'

Zalbar opened his mouth to protest. The temptation was almost too great - if Jubal could make good his promise - but, no, 'I'd have to insist that your actions remain within the law,' he murmured reluctantly. 'I can't ask you to do anything illegal.'

'Not only is it legal, it's done! Kurd is out of business as of now.'

'What do you mean?'

'Kurd can't work without subjects,' the slaver smiled, 'and I'm his supplier - or I was. Not only have I ended his supply of slaves, I'll spread the word to the other slavers that if they deal with him I'll undercut their prices in the other markets and drive them out of town as well.'

Zalbar smiled with new distaste beneath his mask. 'You knew what he was doing with the slaves and you dealt with him anyway?'

'Killing slaves for knowledge is no worse than having slaves kill each other in the arena for entertainment. Either is an unpleasant reality in our world.'

Zalbar winced at the sarcasm in the slaver's voice, but was unwilling to abandon his position.

'We have different views of fighting. You were forced into the arena as a gladiator while I freely enlisted in the army. Still, we share a common experience: however terrible the battle: however frightful the odds, we had a chance. We could fight back and survive - or at least take our foe-men with us as we fell. Being trussed up like a sacrificial animal, helpless to do anything but watch your enemy - no, not your enemy - your tormentor's weapon descend on you again and again ... No being, slave or freedman, should be forced into that. I ca

'I can think of a few,' Jubal murmured, 'but then, I've never . shared your ideals. Though we both believe in justice we seek it in different ways.'

'Justice?' the Hell Hound sneered. 'That's the second time you've used that word tonight. I must admit it sounds strange coming from your lips.'

'Does it?' the slaver asked. 'I've always dealt fairly with my own or with those who do business with me. We both acknowledge the corruption in our world. Hell Hound. The difference is that, unlike yourself, I don't try to protect the world - I'm hard-pressed to protect myself and my own.'

Zalbar set down his unfinished drink. 'I'll leave your mask and cloak outside,' he said levelly, 'I fear that the difference is too great for us to enjoy a drink together.'

Anger flashed in the slaver's eyes. 'But you will investigate the murders?'

'I will,' the Hell Hound promised, 'and as the complaining citizen you'll be informed of the results of my investigation.'

Tempus was working on his sword when Zalbar and Razkuli approached him. They had deliberately waited to confront him here in the barracks rather than at his favoured haunt, the Lily Garden. Despite everything that had or might occur, they were all Army and what was to be said should not be heard by civilians outside their elite club.

Tempus favoured them with a sullen glare, then brazenly returned his attention to his work. It was an unmistakable affront as he was only occupied with filing a series of saw-like teeth into one edge of his sword: a project that should run a poor second to speaking with the Hell Hound's captain.

'I would have a word with you, Tempus,' Zalbar a

'It's your prerogative,' the other replied without looking up.

Razkuli shifted his feet, but a look from his friend stilled him.

'I have had a complaint entered against you,' Zalbar continued. 'A complaint which has been confirmed by numerous witnesses. I felt it only fair to hear your side of the story before I went to Kadakithis with it.'

At the mention of the prince's name, Tempus raised his head and ceased his filing. 'And the nature of the complaint?' he asked darkly.

'It is said you're committing wanton murder during your off-duty hours.'

'Oh, that. It's not wanton. I only hunt hawk-masks.'

Zalbar had been prepared for many possible .responses to his accusations: angry denial, a mad dash for freedom, a demand for proof or witnesses. This easy admission, however, caught him totally off-balance. 'You ... you admit your guilt?' he managed at last, surprise robbing him of his composure.

'Certainly. I'm only surprised anyone has bothered to complain. No one should miss the killers I've taken ... least of all you.'

'Well, it's true I hold no love for Jubal or his sell-swords,' Zalbar admitted, 'but, there are still due processes of law to be followed. If you want to see them brought to justice you should have...'

'Justice?' Tempus laughed. 'Justice has nothing to do with it.'

'Then why hunt them?'

'For practice,' Tempus informed them, studying his serrated sword once more. 'An unexercised sword grows slow. I like to keep a hand in whenever possible and supposedly the sell-swords Jubal hires are the best in town - though, to tell the truth, if the ones I've faced are any example, he's being cheated.'

'That's all?' Razkuli burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. 'That's all the reason you need to disgrace your uniform?'

Zalbar held up a warning hand, but Tempus only laughed at the two of them.