"I was trying to remember what you called him."

"An ignorant sybarite who didn't have the sense of a meat pie," said Pismire.

"Sounds pretty, nasty, sentencing someone to death just for that," said Glurk, putting the loaf on his plate. He kept turning around to look at the jar behind him. It had something hairy in it.

"Actually, he got sentenced to death for apologizing," said Owlglass.

"How can you be sentenced to death for apologizing?"

"He said he was sorry, but on reflection he realized that the Emperor had got the sense of a meat pie," said Owlglass. "He was running at the time, too."

"I think on my feet," said Pismire, proudly.

"You insulted the Emperor?" said Brocando. "Why didn't you say? I didn't know you were famous."

"And accurate," said Bane. "Targon's father was a disgrace to the Empire."

"Where have you been hiding all these years?" said Owlglass, pulling up a chair. "Of course, when I say hiding I don't mean-"

"Oh, a little place no-one's ever heard of," said Pismire.

"Do you mind if I turn that jar around?" said Glurk. "I don't like things watching me when I eat."

"What's happening here in Ware?" said Bane shortly. "There's hardly a guard on the gates. That is disgusting. Don't people know what's happening? The Empire's being attacked. My empire!"

"If no-one wants that piece of cheese, pass it along," said Glurk.

"We've heard," said Owlglass. "But the Emperor says that Ware is perfectly safe. These new advisers say so, apparently."

"Advisers?" said Pismire. The word was like a lump of grit.

"There aren't any pickles around, are there?" said Glurk.

"Advisers," said Bane. "And has anyone ... seen these advisers?"

"Don't think so," said Owlglass. "I heard that General Vagerus was demoted for calling the legions back. The Emperor said he was spreading unnecessary alarm. And the guards around the palace aren't letting anyone in."

"Is there any more of this cucumber?"

"It's how they work," said Bane. "You know it. From inside. Like Jeopard. And the High Gate Land."

"What? Cucumbers?" said Glurk.

"Yes, but not in Ware," said Pismire. "Not here. I can't believe that. Not at the centre. Surely not?"

"Who would think of looking at the centre?" said Bane.

"If it comes to that, I wouldn't have expected them in Jeopard," said Brocando.

"Is this still about cucumbers?"

"Yes, but not ... Ware," said Pismire.

"You don't think so? I would have said the same about Jeopard," said Brocando.

"Hardly anyone is allowed in the place these days," said Owlglass.

"It's not cucumbers you're talking about, is it?" said Glurk.

"What can we do?" said Pismire.

"Slice 'em!" said Glurk, waving a cucumber.

Bane put his hand on his sword. "Yes," he said. "I knew this would happen. Ware was a great city, once. We fought for things. And when we got them ... we just sat back. No more effort. No more pride. No more honesty. Just fat young Emperors and stupid courtiers. Well, I'm not having that. Not in Ware. Let's go." He stood up.

"Oh, no," said Pismire. "What are you going to do? Barge into the palace waving your sword and kill any mouls you see?"

Brocando stood up too. "Good thinking," he said. "Good plan. Glad we've got that sorted out. Come on-"

"That's ridiculous!" said Pismire. "That's not a plan! Tell them, Glurk. You're a level-headed man."

"Yes, it is ridiculous," said Glurk.

"Right," said Pismire.

"We'll finish our tea," said Glurk, "and then attack the palace. It's no good attacking on an empty stomach."

"Mad!" said Pismire.

"Listen," said Bane, standing up. "You know what she said. Nothing is too small to make a difference. One person at the right time."

"There's three of us," said Brocando.

"Even better!"

"Oh, blast! I suppose I'd better come," sighed Pismire, "if only to see you don't do anything too stupid."

"Can I come too?" said Owlglass.

"See?" said Bane. "Imagine what a difference five can make. And if we're wrong, it won't matter. But if we're right ... what else can we do? Run around? Shout? Try to raise an army? Let's sort it out now."

"Anyway, the palace walls are too high. And very thick," said Pismire.

"Nothing will stop a pone going where it wants to go," said Bane. "Or me!"

"I always wondered," said Brocando, in the sudden silence, "and now I know."

"Know what, for goodness sake?" said Pismire, thoroughly rattled.

"Why the Dumii conquered the Carpet," said the king. "It was because, every once in a while, they thought like this."

After a while Glurk said, "Anyone any idea about how we get in?"

CHAPTER 19

Snibril was also learning something. He was learning about the power of sergeants.

Careus had found the palace kitchens, because sergeants always know how to find a kitchen. It was a long low room, with half a dozen fireplaces and a blackened ceiling.

And then he'd found the head cook, who was an old friend.

"This is Mealy," he said, introducing Snibril to a huge red-faced man with a scar across his nose, a patch over one eye and only one arm. "He used to be in the army, like me."

"Was he a sergeant too?" said Snibril.

"That's right," said Mealy, grinning. The scar seemed to grin, too. When he stepped around the table, Snibril saw that he had a wooden leg. "Seen action in dozens o' campaigns," said Mealy, following his gaze. "Then one day Careus here picked me up and carried me back to safety and said Mealy, boy, you better retire right now while there's still some of you left to send home. Good to see you again, mate."

"Strange stuff happening, Mealy," said the sergeant.

"No error. Top brass been sacked all over the place. No-one's seen the Emperor for a fortnight. Spends all his time in his rooms. Has all his meals sent in."

"And these advisers," said Snibril. "What about them?"

"No-one's seen 'em," said Mealy, scratching his back with a ladle. "But I bin up there with a tray one time and they smell-"

"Moulish?" said Snibril.

Several other cooks had wandered up and were listening with interest. They all looked very similar to Mealy. There were half a dozen of them, but only enough arms and legs and ears and eyes for about four whole people. And most of them had scars that you could play noughts-and-crosses on.

"Right," said Mealy. "And I bin pretty close to mouls enough times to know what I'm smellin'. We don't like it. But there's only the handful of us. If we had some lads with us ... "

Careus and Snibril looked at one another.

"They're right here, in the palace," said Snibril.

He looked around at the cooks. They were all very big men.

"You were all sergeants, weren't you," he said. "I can tell."

"Well, you see," said Mealy, "you learn about arranging things, when you're a sergeant. Like, you make sure that when you retires you gets a cushy number. In the warm all day. Regular meals. Old sergeants gets everywhere."

"Let's go and-" Snibril began.

He stared into the darkness at the end of the sooty kitchen.

"Who's she?" he said.

"Who?"

The sergeants turned.

Snibril hesitated. "There was someone there," he mumbled. "In white. And this white animal by her. And she was saying-"

He stopped.

"No women in the kitchens," said Mealy. "The reason being, women aren't any good at sergeanting."

Snibril shook himself. Must have imagined it, he told himself. It's been a busy time ...

"Sergeant Careus, can you get back and bring the army?" he said.

"To attack Ware?" said Careus.

"To defend it," said Snibril.

"Who will we be fighting?"

"By the time you get back I hope we'll have an enemy," said Snibril. "Have you cooks got any weapons?"