‘Uh, I meant – I mean – oh, I don’t know what I mean.’ He paused, then brightened. ‘But I’ll introduce you to Ublala, an unhappy bodyguard longing for commitment.’
Her brows rose higher.
‘Well, why not? You don’t have to tell him you’re dead! He’ll never notice, of that I’m certain! And as for your appetites, I doubt there’ll be a problem there, although there’s a trio of women who might be very upset, but I’ll handle that. Look, it’s a brilliant solution, Shurq.’
‘I’ll give it a try, I suppose, but I’m not making any promises. Now, step outside, please, so I can get dressed.’
Tehol and Bugg exchanged glances and then complied, softly shutting the door behind them.
Bugg studied his master. ‘I am very impressed,’ he said after a moment. ‘I’d thought this a situation without a solution. Master, my admiration for you grows like a-’
‘Stop staring at that railing, Bugg.’
‘Uh, yes. You’re right.’
Matron Delisp was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Seeing Shurq Elalle following a step behind Bugg, her face twisted with distaste. ‘Errant bless you, Tehol Beddict. I owe you one.’
Tehol sighed. ‘I had a feeling you were sceptical of my story.’
‘The woollen leggings,’ she replied. ‘I hear virtually everyone’s put in orders for them.’
Tehol shot Bugg a look, but the servant’s brows rose and he said, ‘Not with me, master. That would be disloyal. Rest assured that everyone else’s version will prove but pathetic imitations.’
‘Perhaps, Matron Delisp,’ Tehol said, ‘I am merely disguised as Tehol Beddict. That would be clever, wouldn’t it?’
‘Too clever for you.’
‘Well, you have a point there.’
‘Anyway, do you want me in your debt or not?’
Shurq Elalle pushed past Bugg. ‘I don’t like being ignored. You’re all ignoring me as if I was-’
‘Dead?’ Delisp asked.
‘I just wanted to point out my reason for vacating this house, which is that I, too, owe Tehol Beddict. I may be dead, but I am not without honour. In any case, Delisp, I believe you owe me a rather substantial payment right now. Sixty per cent, I seem to recall-’
‘What do you need all that money for?’ the Matron demanded. ‘How many variations of sex-assassin attire exist out there? How many bundles of raw spices do you need to keep fresh? No, wait, I don’t want to know the answer. Sixty per cent. Fine, but it’ll take me a day or two – I don’t keep that kind of coin around here. Where should I have it delivered?’
‘Tehol Beddict’s residence will suffice.’
‘Hold on,’ Tehol objected. ‘I can’t secure-’
‘I intend,’ Shurq cut in, ‘to spend it quickly.’
‘Oh. All right, but I’m not happy. Too many comings and goings there. Suspicions will be insatiably aroused-’
‘Stop staring at the railing, master.’
‘Errant’s dreams! Let’s get out of here.’
The storm had passed. Rainwater still flowed down the streets, but people were venturing out once more. It was late afternoon. Shurq Elalle halted at the foot of the Temple’s steps. ‘I will rejoin you tonight, on your roof, Tehol Beddict. Midnight.’
‘What about Ublala Pung?’
‘I admit to having second thoughts.’
‘Shurq Elalle. Ublala Pung survived a Drowning. He walked across the bottom of the canal. You two have a lot in common, if you think about it.’
‘He’s also massively endowed,’ Bugg added.
Tehol made a face at him. ‘You are being crude-’
‘Bring him to the roof tonight,’ Shurq said.
‘This is a conspiracy to make me miserable, isn’t it? Both of you, leave me. I’m going for a walk. Bugg, when you get back home, give it a tidy. No doubt Shand will be storming in before too long. Tell her I’ll drop by tomorrow on some important business-’
‘What important business?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll invent something. You have other things to worry about – how’s the foundation work coming along, anyway?’
‘It’s piling up.’
‘Then sort it out.’
‘You misunderstand, master. We’re on schedule.’
‘I didn’t misunderstand. I was being obdurate. Now, I’m off to find a more reasonable conversation, somewhere.’ He swung round for a final word with Shurq, but she was gone. ‘Damned thief. Go on, Bugg. Wait, what’s for supper?’
‘Banana leaves.’
‘Not fishy ones, I trust.’
‘Of course not, master.’
‘Then what?’
‘The material they were wrapped around was unidentifiable, which, if you think about it, is probably a good thing.’
‘How do we live on this stuff?’
‘A good question, master. It is indeed baffling.’
Tehol studied his servant for a long moment, then he gestured the man away.
Bugg turned right, so Tehol went left. The air was warming, yet still fresh after the rain. Wet dogs nosed the rubbish in the settling puddles. Cats chased the cockroaches that had swarmed up from the drains. A beggar had found a sliver of soap and stood naked beneath a stream of water coming from a cracked eaves trough, working up a murky lather while he sang a lament that had been popular a hundred years ago. Residents had taken advantage of the unexpected downpour, emptying chamber pots from their windows rather than carrying them a few dozen paces to the nearest communal dump-hole. As a result, some of the pools held floating things and the streams in the gutters carried small flyblown islands that collected here and there in buzzing rafts that bled yellowy brown slime.
It was a fine evening in the city of Letheras, Tehol reflected, testing the air a moment before taking a deep breath and releasing it in a contented sigh. He went on down the street until he reached Quillas Canal, then walked along it towards the river. To his right rose a forest of masts from fisherboats moored to wait out the storm. Tarps were being pulled aside, water splashing as the crews bailed feverishly so they could make for open water before the day’s light failed. Near one jetty a half-dozen city guardsmen were fishing a corpse from the murky water, a crowd of onlookers shouting advice as the squad struggled with hook-poles. Above them flapped seagulls.
Tehol came within sight of the old palace, then took a side street away from the canal, proceeding on a winding, confused route until he came to the grounds of the towers. Gathering dusk made the air grainy as Tehol reached the low crumbling wall and stared across the short expanse of broken, uneven yard to the one, battered tower that was clearly different in construction from all the others, being square instead of round.
The strange triangular windows were dark, crowded with dead vines. The inset, black-stained wooden door was shrouded in shadow. Tehol wondered how such a door could have survived – normal wood would have rotted to dust centuries ago.
He could see no-one in the yard. ‘Kettle! Child, are you in there?’
A small bedraggled figure stepped out from behind a tree.
Startled, Tehol said, ‘That was a good trick, lass.’
She approached. ‘There’s an artist. A painter. He comes to paint the tower. He wants to paint me too, but I stay behind trees. It makes him very angry. You are the man who sleeps on the roof of your house. Lots of people try spying on you.’
‘Yes, I know. Shurq tells me you, uh, take care of them.’
