The Golden Barge by Michael Moorcock

Author:Michael Moorcock [Moorcock, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780879975722
Google: Ikmytfr-3wEC
Amazon: B00C2V4RQI
Goodreads: 2037253
Publisher: DAW
Published: 1979-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

TALLOW REGARDED THE men bleakly, fatalistically.

It was two days since he had left the place of the smoking villages. He accepted the fact that he was to be delayed again and hoped that it would be for only a short time.

He had been waylaid by the ruffians as he rested on the bank beside the boat. They were bearded and garbed in the remnants of uniforms, originally of some neutral colour which had been obscured by grime. Their lean hands were moulded around guns — pistols and rifles.

“What do you want? I’ve nothing of value — and I need my boat,” said Tallow sadly.

“We want your boat,” answered the foremost, grinning a wolf’s grin. “And information.”

“I need my boat, and I have no information of use to you.”

“Where are you from?”

“Many towns upriver.”

“Where are you bound?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You don’t know where you’re going? Then why are you so anxious to keep your boat?”

“I am following another ship. A great golden barge — perhaps you’ve seen it pass?”

“We’ve seen no craft of the sort you describe. We need your boat. Let’s not have to shoot you. Join us or die.” He rattled off the last sentence in the same way as a hungry child rattles off grace.

“But —”

“It’s your choice, friend. We’ve little time to waste.”

“I’ll join you,” said Tallow hastily. “But what am I joining?”

“Zhist’s Army. The Free Fighters.”

Tallow whimpered under his breath. “I’ll join,” he said. “I’ll join any army of men fighting for freedom. Yes, indeed, the prospect arouses the old fire in my heart. What do you want me to do, comrade?”

The soldier smirked cynically at Tallow. “Let us make use of your boat,” he said.

“Certainly,” assented Tallow. “It is yours.”

“I know,” grinned the soldier. Then he said: “You can help us load the crates.”

Tallow was escorted back into the bushes. Here were more men of the same stamp, sitting on long wooden boxes, like coarse coffins. They all had the appearance of carnivores which had been fed on fruit for months. They were lean, fox-featured and half-starved. Some of them got up as Tallow and the others entered the clearing.

“This the boatman?” growled one of them, jerking his thumb at Tallow.

“Yes — he’s joined us. We’ll have to have him vetted by Zhist, of course. But that’ll be later. Meanwhile, he loads with us — and drives that boat.”

“Very well, let’s get started.”

Tallow lifted one end of a crate and the speaker took the other. They staggered with it to the boat. The man made to heave it on, but Tallow stopped him.

“I’ll supervise the stacking,” he said. “You could capsize her by doing that.”

The soldier looked at his leader, questioningly. The leader nodded. Tallow skipped aboard and began to check the loading.

Soon the boat was low in the water, heavy with crates. The leader joined Tallow in the small cabin. “Now,” he said, “steer where I direct. It was lucky you came along. It would have taken days to have carted this lot overland.

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