out now and drop the nets. Better sand down that tabletop. Time to go out and rob somebody, sweetness. Yes, men did as they did, just as women did as they did-mysterious and inexplicable as those doings might be.
And, so thinking, it was not long before Torvald Nom found himself walking into the Phoenix Inn. A man looking for work in all the wrong places. Scorch arrived a short time later, pride and panic warring In his face, and my, how that pride blazed as he strutted up to where Torvald Nom was sitting,
Back at the estate Castellan Studlock brought Leff into an annexe to one side of the main building, where after some rummaging in crates stuffed with straw the muffled figure found a small glass bottle and presented it to Leff.
’Two drops into each eye. Two more on to the tongue. Repeat two more times today and three times a day until the bottle is empty.’
‘That will kill them worms in my head?’
‘The Greva worms, yes. I cannot vouch for any others.’
‘I got more worms in my head?’
‘Who can say? Do your thoughts squirm?’
‘Sometimes! Gods below!’
’Two possibilities,’ Studlock said. ‘Suspicion worms or guilt worms.’
Leff scowled. ‘You saying it’s worms cause those things? Guilt and suspicion? I ain’t never heard anything like that.’
‘Are you sometimes gnawed with doubt? Do notions take root in your mind? Do strange ideas slither into your head? Are you unaccountably frightened at the sight of a fisher’s barbed hook?’
‘Are you some kind of healer?’
‘I am what one needs me to be. Now, let us find you a uniform.’
Torvald Nom was rehearsing what he would tell his wife. Carefully weighing each word, trying out in his mind the necessary nonchalance required to deftly avoid certain details of his newfound employment.
‘It’s great that we’re all working together again,’ Scorch said, ambling happily at his side. ‘As estate guards, no less! No more strong-arm work for smelly criminals. No more hunting down losers to please some vicious piranha. No more-’
‘Did this castellan mention the wages?’
‘Huh? No, but it’s bound to be good. Must be. It’s demanding work-’
‘Scorch, it may be lots of things, but “demanding” isn’t one of them. We’re there to keep thieves out. And since all three of us have been thieves ourselves at one time or another, we should be pretty damned good at it. We’d better be, or we’ll get fired.’
‘We need two more people. He wanted three more and all I got was you. So, two more. Can you think of anybody?’
‘No. What family?’
‘What?’
‘This Mistress-what House docs she belong to?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘No idea.’’She’s from the countryside?’
Think so.’
‘Well, has any noble died recently that might have pulled her in? Inheritance, I mean?”
‘How should I know? You think I bother keeping track of who’s dead in that crowd? They ain’t nothing to me, is my point.’
‘We should’ve asked Kruppe-he’d know.’
‘Well we didn’t and it don’t matter at all. We got us legitimate work, the three of us. We’re on our way to being, well, legitimate. So just stop questioning everything, Tor! You’re going to ruin it!’
‘How can a few reasonable questions ruin anything?’
‘It just makes me nervous,’ Scorch replied. ‘Oh, by the way, you can’t see the castellan.’
‘Why? Who else would I talk to about getting hired?’
‘No, that’s not what I mean. I mean you can’t see him. All wrapped up in rags. With a hood, and gloves, and a mask. That’s what I mean. His name is Studlock.’
‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Why not? That’s his name.’
‘The castellan is bundled like a corpse and you don’t find that somewhat un-usual?’
‘Could be afraid of the sun or something. No reason to be suspicious. You never met any strange people in your day, Tor?’
And Torvald Nom glanced across at Scorch, and found he had no reply to that at all.
‘I see you have found another candidate,’ Studlock said. ‘Excellent. And yes, he will do nicely. Perhaps as the Captain of the House Guard?’
Torvald started. ‘I haven’t said a word yet and already I’m promoted?’
‘Comparative exercise yields confidence in this assessment. Your name is?’
‘Torvald Nom.’
‘Of House Nom. Might this not prove a conflict of interest?’
‘Might it? Why?’
‘The Mistress is about to assume the vacant seat on the Council.’
‘Oh. Well, I have virtually no standing in the affairs of House Nom. There are scores of us in the city, of course, with ties stretching everywhere, including off-continent. I, however, am not involved in any of that.’
‘Were you cast out?’
‘No, nothing so, er, extreme. It was more a question of… interests.’
‘You lack ambition.’
‘Precisely.’
‘That is a fine manicure, Torvald Nom.’
‘Er, thank you. I could recommend…’ but that notion dwindled into a painful silence and Torvald tried hard to not glance down at the castellan’s bandaged fingers.
At this moment Leff appeared from round the other side of the main house
His lips and his eyes were bright orange,
Scorch grunted. ‘Hey, Leff. Remember that cat you sat on in that bar once?’
‘What of it?’
‘Nothing. Was just reminded, the way its eyes went all bulgy and crazed,’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing. Was just reminded, is all. Look, I brought Tor.’
‘I see that,’ snarled Leff. ‘I can see just fine, thank you.’
‘What’s wrong with your eyes?’ Torvald Nom asked. ‘Tincture,’ said Leff. ‘I got me a case of Greva worms.’
Torvald Nom frowned. ‘Humans can’t get Greva worms. Fish get Greva worms, from eating infected conch.’
Leff’s bulging orange eyes bulged even more. Then he spun to face the castellan.
Who shrugged and said, ‘Jurben worms?’
Torvald Nom snorted. ‘The ones that live in the caverns below? In pockets of green gas? They’re as long as a man’s leg and nearly as thick.’
The castellan sighed. ‘The spectre of misdiagnosis haunts us all. I do apologize, Leff. Perhaps your ailments are due to some other malady. No matter, the drops will wash out in a month or two.’
‘I’m gonna have squished cat eyes for another month?’
‘Preferable to Greva worms, I should think. Now, gentlemen, let us find the house clothier. Something black and brocaded in gold thread, I should imagine. House colours and all that. And then, a brief summary of your duties, shifts, days off and the like.’
‘Would that summary include wages?’ Torvald Nom asked.
‘Naturally. As captain you will be paid twenty silver councils per week, Tor-vald Nom. Scorch and Leff, as
