Toll the Hounds
Tiserra set the cup down and moved directly in front of him. ‘Husband.’
‘Yes?’
‘You’re trying too hard.’
‘I am? Well, it’s like a dream, you see, being able to come back home. Do all these things for you, for us. It still doesn’t feel real.’
‘Oh, that’s not the problem,’ she said. ‘You are already getting bored, Torvald Nom. You need more than just tagging along at my side. And the coin won’t last for ever-Beru knows I don’t make enough for the both of us.’
‘You’re saying I need to get a job.’
‘I will tell you a secret-just one, and keep in mind what I said earlier: we women have many secrets. I’m feeling generous today, so listen well. A woman is well pleased with a mate. He is her island, if you will, solid, secure. But sometimes she likes to swim offshore, out a way, floating facing the sun if you will. And she might even dive from sight, down to collect pretty shells and the like. And when she’s done, why, she’ll swim back to the island. The point is, husband, she doesn’t want her mate’s company when swimming. She needs only to know the island waits there.’
Torvald blinked, then frowned. ‘You’re telling me to get lost.’
‘Leave me my traipsing through the market, darling. No doubt you have manly tasks to pursue, perhaps at a nearby tavern. I’ll see you at home this evening.’
‘If that’s how you want it, then of course I will leave you to it, sweetness-and yes, I could do with a wander. A man has secrets, too!’
‘Indeed.’ And she smiled. ‘Provided they’re not the kind that, if I find out, I will have to hunt you down and kill you.’
He blanched. ‘No, of course not! Nothing like that!’
‘Good. See you later, then.’
And, being a brave man, a contented man (more or less), Torvald Nom happily fled his wife, as brave, contented men are wont to do the world over. Need to plough that field behind the windbreak, love. Going to head 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?’