Free The Dragon in the Sword by Michael Moorcock

than an hour of calling, for Armiad hates crossing the marshlands at night. Perhaps he fears the vengeance of all those so-called marsh vermin he’s fed to the bins. Doubtless the
New Argument
is equally aware of that fact!”
    A few hours later von Bek and myself found ourselves accompanying the Baron Captain Armiad-naam-Sliforg-ig-Vortan, all dressed in his most elaborate (and ludicrous) finery, into a kind of flatboat with small wheels which was poled by about a dozen men (also in somewhat flamboyant livery) and which sometimes floated, sometimes rolled, across the marshes and lagoons towards the
New Argument
which was now quite close to our own
Frowning Shield.
Armiad could barely walk in all his quilted cloak and padded hose, his vast, nodding hat, his grotesquely stuffed doublet. I understand that he had come across the designs in an old picture book and determined that these were the proper and traditional clothes of a true Baron Captain. He had a fair amount of difficulty getting into the barge and had to hold onto his hat with both hands when the wind threatened it. Very slowly the men poled us towards the other hull, while Armiad shouted to them to take care, to be careful not to splash us, to rock the vessel as little as possible.
    Dressed in plain garments and without weapons, we had no particular problems of this sort.
    The
New Argument
was no less battered and repaired than the
Frowning Shield
, and if anything was somewhat older, but she was altogether in better condition than our hull. The smoke from her chimneys was not the same yellowish oily stuff and the stacks were arranged so that by and large very little ash fell upon the decks themselves. The banners were rather cleaner (though it was impossible for them to be completely fresh) and the paintwork everywhere was brighter. Some care had been taken to maintain the hull and, I suspect, she had been made especially shipshape for the coming Massing. It seemed strange that Armiad could not tell that his own hull could be cleaner, that its condition reflected both his own failure of intelligence, the poor morale of his people and half a dozen other things besides.
    We came up to the bulk of the other hull, moving across cold water until we reached a ramp which they lowered for us. With some effort the men poled the craft up the ramp and into the bowels of the
New Argument.
I looked about me with curiosity.
    The general appearance of the hull was the same as that which we had left, but there was an orderliness, a smartness about it which made Armiad’s vessel seem like an old tramp steamer compared to a navy ship. Moreover, although the men who greeted us were dressed much as those we’d first seen, they were considerably cleaner and plainly had no taste for entertaining the likes of us. Even though von Bek and I had bathed thoroughly and insisted on fresh clothing, we had picked up a film of grime on the way from our quarters to the barge. Also, I was sure, all three of us smelled of the hull, though we had become used to it. It was also plain that the complement of the
New Argument
found Armiad’s clothing as ludicrous as did we!
    It became very clear to us that it was not mere snobbery which made the other Baron Captains reluctant to have Armiad aboard. However, if they were snobs, Armiad’s condition and disposition would have confirmed every prejudice they had.
    Although apparently unaware of the impression he gave, Armiad was evidently ill at ease. He blustered at the welcoming party as we were greeted formally and names were offered. He was the very essence of pomposity as he announced those he brought with him as guests of the
New Argument
and he seemed pleased when our hosts recognised my name with evident surprise, even shock.
    “Yes, indeed,” he told the group, “Prince Flamadin and his companion have chosen our hull, the
Frowning Shield
, as their means of travelling to the Massing. They will make our hull their headquarters for the duration.