Yet another formless, ineffable worry was afflicting Ublala Pung. Could be lovestruck again, or struck to fear by love. The half-blood lived in a world of worry, which, all things considered, was rather surprising. Then again, that undeniable virtue between his legs garnered its share of worshippers, lighting feminine eyes with the gleam of possession, avarice, malicious competition-in short, all those traits most common to priesthoods. But it was worship for all the wrong reasons, as poor Ublala’s fretful state of mind made plain. His paltry brain wanted to be loved for itself.

Making him, alas, a complete idiot.

‘Ublala,’ Bugg said from where he hovered over the soup pot, ‘glance upward for me if you will to confirm that those beady eyes studying us belong to my master. If so, please be so kind as to invite him down for supper.’

Tall as he was, Ublala’s face, lifting into view to squint upwards at Tehol, was within reach. Smiling and patting him on the head, Tehol said, ‘My friend, if you could, step back from what serves as a ladder here-and given my manservant’s lacklustre efforts at repair I am using the description advisedly-so that I may descend in a manner befitting my station.’

‘What?’

‘Get out of the way, you oaf!’

Ducking, edging away, Ublala grunted. ‘Why is he so miserable?’ he asked, jerking a thumb up at Tehol. ‘The world is about to end but does he care about that? No. He doesn’t. Care about that. The world ending. Does he?’

Tehol shifted round to lead with his feet on the uppermost rung of the ladder. ‘Loquacious Ublala Pung, how ever will we follow the track of your thoughts? I despair.’ He wiggled over the edge then groped with his feet.

Bugg spoke. ‘Given the view you are presently providing us, master, despair is indeed the word. Best look away, Janath.’

‘Too late,’ she replied. ‘To my horror.’

‘I live in the company of voyeurs!’ Tehol managed to find the rung with one foot and began making his way down.

‘I thought they were chickens,’ Ublala said.

A piercing avian cry, ending in a mangled crunch.

‘Oh.’

Cursing from Bugg. ‘Damn you, Pung! You’re eating that one! All by yourself! And you can cook it yourself, too!’

‘It just got in the way! If you built some more rooms, Bugg, it wouldn’t have happened.’

And if you did your damned pacing in the alley outside-better yet, if you just stopped worrying about things-or bringing those worries here-or always showing up around supper time-or-’

‘Now now,’ Tehol interjected, stepping free of the last rung and adjusting his blanket. ‘Nerves are frayed and quarters are cramped and Ublala’s cramped brain is fraying our nerves without quarter, so it would be best if we all-’

‘Master, he just flattened a hen!’

A voyeur,’ Ublala insisted.

‘-got along,’ Tehol finished.

‘Time, I think,’ said Janath, ‘for some mitigation, Tehol. I seem to recall you having some talent for that, especially working your way around the many attempts at expelling you.’

‘Yeah,’ said Ublala, ‘where do we do that?’

‘Do what?’ Janath asked.

‘I gotta go.’

‘Over to the warehouse,’ Tehol said, pushing Ublala towards the door-without much success. ‘Ublala, do your expelling back of the warehouse, near the drain spout. Use the comfrey bush poking out of the rubbish heap then wash your hands in the tilted trough.’

Looking relieved, the huge man ducked his way out into the alley.

Turning, Tehol regarded Bugg. All right, a moment of silence, then, for the retired hen.’

Rubbing his brow, Bugg leaned back and sighed. ‘Sorry. I’m not used to these… crowds.’

‘What amazes me,’ Tehol said, now studying the surviving hens, ‘is their eerie indifference. They just walk around their crushed sister-’

‘Wait a moment and they’ll start ripping it apart,’ Bugg said, shambling over to collect the carcass. ‘Between the two, I prefer indifference.’ He picked the limp form up, frowned at the dangling neck. ‘Quiet in death, as with all things. Almost all things, I mean…’ Abruptly he shook his head and tossed the dead creature onto the floor in front of Janath. ‘More feathers for you, Scholar.’

A most appropriate task,’ Tehol murmured, ‘plucking lovely plumage to reveal the pimpled nightmare beneath.’

‘Sort of like inadvertently looking up your tunic, Tehol Beddict.’

‘You are a cruel woman.’

She paused and looked up at him. Assuming those were just pimples.’

‘Most cruel, leading me to suspect that you in fact fancy me.’

Janath shot Bugg a glance. ‘What kind of healing did you do on me, Bugg? My world seems… smaller.’ She tapped one temple. ‘In here. My thoughts travel any distance-any distance at all-and they vanish in a… in a white nothing. Blissful oblivion. So, I do remember what happened, but not even a whisper of emotion reaches me.’

‘Janath, most of those protections are of your own making. Things will… expand. But it will take time. In any case, it is not too surprising that you are developing an attachment to Tehol, seeing him as your protector-’

‘Now hold on, old man! Attachment? To Tehol? To an ex-student? That is, in every way imaginable, disgusting.’

‘I thought it was a common occurrence,’ Tehol said. ‘Why, some of the stories I’ve heard-’

‘Common for those fools who confuse love with worship-all to feed their paltry egos, I might add. Usually men, too. Married men. It’s pathetic-’

‘Janath, did-No, never mind.’ Rubbing his hands together, Tehol faced Bugg. ‘My, that soup smells wonderful.’

Ublala Pung returned, shouldering his way through the doorway. ‘That comfrey tasted awful,’ he said.

The three stared at him for a long moment.

Then Bugg spoke. ‘See those half-gourds, Ublala? Bring them over and get your voyeur soup.’

‘I could eat a whole one all by myself, I’m so hungry.’

Tehol pointed. ‘There’s one right there, Ublala.’

The huge man paused, glanced over at the bedraggled carcass. Then pushed the gourds into Tehol’s hands and said, ‘Okay.’

‘Leave me some feathers?’ Janath asked.

‘Okay.’

Tehol said, ‘Do you mind, Ublala, if the rest of us eat… uh, up on the roof?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘After supper,’ Tehol continued as the half-blood lowered himself into a cross-legged position, reached for the carcass and tore off a leg. ‘After, I mean, Ublala, we can talk about what’s worrying you, all right?’

‘No point talking,’ Ublala said around a mouthful of feathers, skin and meat. ‘I got to take you to him.’

‘Who?’

‘A champion. The Toblakai.’

Tehol met Bugg’s eyes, and saw in them unfeigned alarm.

‘We got to break into the compound,’ Ublala continued.

‘Uh, right.’

‘Then make sure he doesn’t kill us.’

‘I thought you said there was no point in talking!’

‘I did. There isn’t.’

Janath collected her gourd of soup. ‘So we have to climb one-handed up that ladder? And I expect you want me to go first? Do you think me an idiot?’

Tehol scowled at her, then brightened. ‘You have a choice, Janath. You follow me and Bugg, at the risk of your appetite, or we follow you, lifting you skyward with our sighs of admiration.’

‘How about neither?’ With that, she headed out into the alley.

Horrible crunching sounds came from where Ublala sat.

After a moment, both Tehol and Bugg followed in Janath’s wake.

Ormly, once Champion Rat Catcher, sat down opposite Rucket.

After a nod of greeting, she returned to her meal. ‘I’d offer you some of these crisped hog ears, but as you can see, there’s not many left and they are one of my favourites.’

‘You do it on purpose, don’t you?’

‘Men always assume beautiful women think of nothing but sex, or, rather, are obsessed with the potential thereof, at any and every moment. But I assure you, food poses a sensuality rarely achieved in clumsy gropings on some flea-bitten mattress with errant draughts sending chills through you at every change of position.’