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.'
Ormly's withered face twisted into a scowl. 'Change of position? What does that mean?'
'Something tells me there is no legion of beleaguered women bemoaning the loss of one Ormly.'
'I wouldn't know nothing about that. Listen, I'm nervous.'
'How do you think I feel? Care for some wine? Oh, I was hoping you'd decline. You know, hiding in this burial crypt has put a strain on select vintages. It's all very well for you, skulking in the shadows every night, but as the new commander of our insurgent organization, I have to hide down here, receiving and despatching all day, doing endless paperwork—'
'What paperwork?'
'Well, the paperwork I do to convince the minions how busy I am, so they don't come running to me every damned moment.'
'Yes, but what are you writing down, Rucket?'
'I record snatches of overheard conversations – the acoustics down here are impressive if a tad wayward. One can achieve sheer poetry on occasion, with judicial use of juxtaposition.'
'If it's random then it ain't poetry,' Ormly said, still scowling.
'Clearly you don't keep up with modern movements, then.'
'Just one, Rucket, and that's what I'm nervous about. It's Tehol Beddict, you see.'
'A most extraordinary juxtaposition there,' she replied, reaching for another hog's ear. 'Idiocy and genius. In particular, his genius for creating idiotic moments. Why, the last time we made love—'
'Rucket, please! Don't you see what's going on out there? Oh, sorry, I guess you don't. But listen to me, then. He's too successful! It's going too fast! The Patriotists are stirred up something awful, and you can be sure the Liberty Consign is backing them with every resource at its disposal. In the Low Markets they're starting to barter because there's no coin.'
'Well, that was the plan—'
'But we're not ready!'
'Ormly, Scale House collapsed, didn't it?'
He glared at her suspiciously, then grunted and looked