Unpublished translation by the author

"Still free as a bird then, I see" was all I got from him.

"What are you blabbering on about?" But he was gone, sunk back into the crowd. Having loitered around a bit longer listening to the speeches broadcast over the megaphones strung along the towers, having no whisky left to keep me warm, I pulled up my collar around my ears and set off. I thought perhaps to call on you at Tyn y Coed, but how would I explain anything to you Caress, now that words have become weapons between us? Crossing the street, down below in the subway, I saw Scarlet Nightshade stooped down and she raised her head full of black tears and a bruise spreading across her cheek. She was picking up some necklace beads off the concrete.

"What happened, Scarlet?" I said a bit coldly. I had struck up a chat with her earlier over on the Square. I don't have very much to say to her, she's always on the verge of a crisis."

" Just leave me alone, " she spat and her two eyes like coal burning into me. Her eye make-up was in dark streaks down her cheeks. You would not want to cross her in her temper, I tried to avoid annoying her.

"Just go," she said coldly. "Go to your little Miss Caress now, and see if she'll take you back."

I just left her there on the floor. I went towards home. I'm not going to tangle with such a spiteful girl.

Outside All Night Café I noticed Wil Pickled Herring sitting on the pavement with his head in his hands. I couldn't make out a word he said to me, I didn't really understand either the forefinger which he slowly drew across his throat, smiling his ugly black pegged smile. All I did was step past him and went in to get something to eat.

"Give me something to warm me up, Betsan," I said to Betsan Ten Minutes behind the counter. "How's the new job going?"

"You can have hot stew and mind your own business"

I hear that Betsan Ten Minutes is going steady with Wynne Screen Viper nowadays so that's why she's working nights behind the counter at All Night Café and not upstairs on her back anymore. We were talking about old times when the door opened and there was Wil Pickled Herring again hanging like a climber on Snowdon half way up the door. He lost his grip and fell all over the tables.

"Out!" shouted Betsan Ten Minutes getting hold of a mop handle and beating him on his back and shoulders. Wil Pickled Herring didn't react. She flung the mop at him and left him in a heap where he was. "Surprised to see you're still around" she said after stepping back to the counter.

"I've had just about enough of it" I said. "What is all this looking and poiting, what's going on?"

"They were here looking for you earlier"

"Who were?"

"For you, Gwern. I said nothing."

"What is there to say? Why would they look for me?" Betsan Ten Minutes likes to provoke people and to tell lies, so I didn't believe her. Just then Wil Pickled Herring pulled himself up at my table and began to dribble so I gave Betsan two units for the food and left. I suppose I was expecting something. Anyway, I went straight home.

A gnawing feeling came into my stomach. I picked up the note I had found on the mat. The eye of the answer machine was flashing. I suppose I hadn't paid much attention to the changes reported on the news, nothing had altered yet in my town and anyway I had been away working so I didn't at that time understand as well as I should have perhaps.

"Fuck," I though to myself. "So it's true. Fischermädchen does want to see me. At this rate I'll be in Entwürdigung Castle before you can say Abergwyngregyn and Rausman himself will be flaying the hide off me."

I forgot all about the answer machine when I read that note and just drummed out her number like a woodpecker on a trunk.

Fischermädchen was not happy to be waked in the middle of the night until she realised it was me and then I thought I detected a thaw in her attitude.

"Oh! It's you, Gwern! At last! Where have you been?" She said pretending to be ever so charming. "I've been waiting for your call."

"I know" I said, "I'll be round first thing in the morning. Sorry about the work on the network...You know I did not recommend that software....Are they really that annoyed?"

"Tomorrow morning eight o'clock. Don't worry about anything, Gwern. Come at eight, everything is fine."

I had heard Dai Takes Eggs talking about some Saffron Tinker or other saying that he was the one to lead you across to the sunless Summer in the high passes. Saving fugitives from the Uncons. "He'll do," I thought to myself as I thought about how I might reach the High Country." But then I thought, "Yes, but he's only in the new legends and doesn't really exist at all so what's the fucking point!"

Anyway, even if I was gullible enough to believe in the Saffron Tinker, as do the children and the old people, I didn't even have his network code and anyway I could not have got him on line without the cat coming into the lap of the Seen and Heard and they would be straight after me. "If you can't be strong be cunning" I mused, very briefly, realising I had no options left.

I just chucked whatever came to hand into a bag. I was dying to phone you but I knew they would know. I flipped open the screen and deleted the log of restriced access files. Some files I even opened the lid to check that they were really gone. A quick message for Fischermädchen for forward delivery and out I go without a backward glance. Wil Califfornia takes me to the station. I pay cash and don't wait for change. I jump the fence to catch the train.

"Ticket, son" says the guard.

"Haven't got one." I'm still out of breath.

"Penalty charge then, " says the guard.

"Swipe that, grandad," says I thrusting my unit card at him. A little yellow paper ticket squiggled out of a box on his tummy and the ink still looked wet on the paper.

I didn't get off where I was supposed to but carried on into the night, past places I had never seen or heard of before. The night was like a long tunnel and the carriage lights lit up nothing but dozing passengers. I held my face to the glass and watched raindrops running races down the pane outside. At Gwastadaros siding I slipped out into a blue dawn. It has a big name for a small place, the sign is huge but there are only a few unplastered concrete huts on the station. Even the searchlights keep going on and off just like our ones. The people here are very much like we are back home. The first thing anyone said to me was "Where are you from and where do you want to go?"

He was a taxi driver actually. Perhaps he asked this to all his fares. Anyway he only took me a short distance.

"High Country?" he said. "Not a chance in hell. You can get out here."

"Rat," I said and gave him two fingers as he drove away. I thought for a minute he was going to come back. Then I started walking concrete roads, unsure which direction was best. It wasn't that cold but there was no sun visible and there was drizzle in the breeze. The main road rose from the station village up towards the hills, the east I hoped. Behind the hills a rampart of dark rock rose to meet the clouds. The concrete road was pitted and crazed and every mile got worse until it was like a net on a stony stream. An hour or so later, and not making progress, I saw on the hill's edge above the road a little cottage like a holiday cottage but with a chimney full of smoke coming from its chimney. I went towards it to ask was I lost. There seemed to be a way to go from the start but the longer I climbed the farther away the damn thing would go. I was drenched in sweat when I finally made it to the farmyard having wasted the best part of a day, and now night was falling on the second evening. Three ferocious dogs came at me as my foot touched the farmyard. Barking and baring their dripping fangs. "Down, bad dogs," I said. A door opened and a lanky youth with hollow cheeks came out, a sack and a cloak and thonged sandals on his feet. He started to pelt the dogs with stones he drew from his sack while looking at me and shouting "Welcome to Sunless Summer!"

"Is that what it is?" I said to him. "Isn't Saffron Tinker is in that legend?"

"Asgwrn Ffriddoedd does not have inexhaustible patience," said the cloaked youth. "Come with me."

I followed him into the house, a dark smoke filled place where everything was old fashioned except for the network screen flickering in the corner. Asgwrn Ffriddoedd is a big man. He has a mop of curly red hair on his head and a big red beard on his chin. I was given a steaming bowl of bread and milk, some baked potatoes with butter and some wine. I wolfed it all down anyway.

"So you got on line eventually," he said, "What kept you?"

"Oh, yes, sure!" I blurted out untruthfully. "Do you know the Saffron Tinker?"

"What did you do, Gwern, to have them after you?"

"I did nothing to them. The Heartless Bodies don't want me."

"Come now, " said the big man. "Lets all cooperate. Your whole case has been hopping all over the web."

"Look" I said, "It's Scarlet Nightshade who started this. She's turned everyone against me and it would be nothing for her to carry any old lies about me to Fischermädchen as well. Look, it was Wil Pickled Herring who broke her necklace, not me!"

"And what is this about you and the network crash in the Exile States? I don't wonder the Heartless Bodies are after you for wrecking their systems, and by mistake as well, for God's sake, due to incompetence not patriotism at all! You would have more respect had you done it on purpose, foolish one."

"It was on purpose, actually, I wanted to spoil their plans, it wasn't an accident!"

"Bullshit! I don't believe a word."

"You can believe what you like, Asgwrn Ffriddoedd," I said sulkily.

"That's better" He is such a pompous man. "So you were thinking of escaping towards the High Country?" he added after chewing his beard for a bit.

"If you say so, Asgwrn Ffriddoedd, " I said.

"I've seen plenty of the likes of you before."

"Is the High Country far?"

"'Is it far, indeed?" Asgwrn Ffriddoedd beckoned to the gaunt lad. "Tell him how far it is to the High Country, Pilgrim." said the big man.

"It's nearer than yesterday and farther than tomorrow" said the sombre youth.

"Well you're all leaving tomorrow anyway," said Asgwrn Ffriddoedd.

"Is Saffron Tinker coming as well, sir?" I inquired innocently.

"You know him, then, do you?"

"So he does exist? Everyone has heard the legends about him leading to the High Country the ones who flee from the grip of the Heartless Bodies."

Asgwrn Ffriddoedd laughed when I said that and started to slap his knee with his palm. "Yes, very good" he said simmering with mirth. "Well, he is here, oh yes, he's here. He's been waiting a long while for you, you three legged snail."

"Sorry about that," I muttered.

"Tomorrow morning then, Saffron Tinker, Pilgrim and you have got to set off up towards the High Country. Use this secure device for inputing updates. These are my orders. Sleep then go.

"Thank you, sir" I said taking the processor not really knowing what he meant or whether I had any reason to thank him or not.

Sunless Summer is a big country, vast I would say. Some say that it has no borders but I don't believe it. A country must stop somewhere or it can't be whole, surely that's true. Well, anyway, I never saw such wastelands as the places I passed on the way through. Rolling bare hills to the horizon and not a furze bush growing. No walls. No paths. A country like the waves of the sea with no surf breaking. Here and there I saw grass growing and around these clumps there were sheep struggling to graze. But though there is no sun nor pasture, the people here greet you with a smile. I don't know where they live or what they do. We saw no houses. I doubt they get many visitors, they seem so hospitable. "Welcome to Sunless Summer!" they shout as hordes of ragged children come from nowhere around your legs and smile into your face and laugh at your hair and clothes and skin. Saffron Tinker just frowned all the time like a scarecrow at everyone, his yellow eyes flashing disapproval in all directions. You would have thought his wild appearance would be enough to frighten them, what with his stooped gait, long arms and spindly short legs leaping here and there. Few doubt that he is a cross and angry man. He was, in contrast, actually quite kind to me during the journey. Occasionally he would allow me up behind him on his mule for a few minutes. Pilgrim had to walk the whole way, poor fellow.

"I prefer to walk" he would say whenever I got a ride. "My destiny is to walk the rough paths always and that is as it should be and ever shall be, and should there be no path untrodden in this transient world I would still walk on in a circle like a mouse on a wheel."

I didn't know him at that time, so I tended not to query many of the crazy things he said, thinking he was ever so wise. "But why do you want to carry a sack full of old stones around with you?" was one question I asked. "Aren't there plenty around us in the mountains?"

"Listen, lad," he said in a boastful voice, squaring his owl like shoulders, "some people prefer to carry their weight on their backs rather than in their hearts. Anyway, these are special stones."

"If the two of you would like to stop quarreling" said Saffron Tinker, "you can pitch camp on the ridge over there. It gets dark early on the borders of the Wild Country."

That was the first I knew that we had arrived in the Wild Country. I'm not denying that it was cold, by Jesus it was cold, it hit you like a fist in the mornings and like a blade cutting through the mist at night. It would be nothing for your eyelids to freeze shut, and I almost failed to recognize Dai Takes Eggs as he swaggered into camp towards me in his big coat.

"Hey, Gwern!" he called with a wink like the wink that he gave me on on our town square. "So you've arrived."

"Takes Eggs!" I said, "What brought you here?"

"Keep your questions" he said. "Sealed lips are sweet. I thought you were done fore back in town."

I told him about the hassle I had had and all he did was start laughing.

"Listen, Gwern" he said "both you know and I know that you weren't working with Lower Level team, so keep your fibs. It was an accident and that's all. You made a right mess of their systems, I'll admit, you and your incompetence. I bet Fischermädchen's face was a picture when you escaped her grasp. You lucky basadard!" He laughed heartily and slapped me on the back.

"You can keep your luck, Takes Eggs, thank you very much," I snapped. I couldn't see much to laugh about.

"Just you work on your story, my son"

"Why do they call it the Wild Country, Takes Eggs?" I asked to change the subject having said too much already probably.

"I really don't know" said he. "Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the Wire Bandits rear all their Shining Beasts here."

"Are the Shining Beasts dangerous?"

"Oh, no, not at all. They would only tear you to shreds. They would happily eat up six better men than you before breakfast, boy. And mind you don't look into their electric eyes. But remember, should you raise so much as a finger against them you will have their leader Rock Jaw himself to answer to."

Dai Takes Eggs went on his way soon after. Going down to Sunless Summer, he said, with an important message for Asgwrn Ffriddoedd. That's what he said. But knowing Dai Takes Eggs he was probably just showing off. However fair play to him, he did lend me his restplate so that I might continue in safety. It was a good one too, a shiny transparent plate moulded to the body and fitting like a glove. I gave him Saffron Tinker's mule in return because Dai Takes Eggs said that it would be no use to us in the Wild Country; too much slippery on the rocks for a mule and so forth. Saffron Tinker was not at all pleased when he found out what I had done. He started calling me all sorts of unrepeatable names and threatened to throw me from the precipice and beat me with his stick but he was too frail so I broke his stick and said I would carry the tent and he quieted down. But of course Saffron Tinker is a poor walker, his spindly legs have no strength, and we stayed where we were for a while. I thought it was a good bargain because I would never have managed to sleep those nights in the Wild Country without the restplate to protect me, what with the Shining Beasts howling and braying and keeping up a commotion all night around the camp and eyeing our tent with their piercing eyes as they churned up clumps of the the mountain with their hooves until the night would become a wild storm of lightning all about us. Pilgrim had no restplate and simply lay there shivering in his cloak through the small hours without a wink of sleep, groaning and saying his prayers under his breath. Probably all part of his penance. Pilgrim is a strange fellow.

Saffron Tinker would get into a blind fury with the shining beasts and would start shouting and screaming at them for all he was worth. "Get out of here you blasted devils! There's nothing for you here! Clear off!" And he would reach for his combat claw and threaten them with it while shielding his eyes from their piercing gaze and they would retreat behind the escarpment until Saffron Tinker had put away his combat claw and gone back to lie in the tent in the middle of the night with everything was peaceful in camp again. But little by little the shining beasts would creep back stealthily around the camp again and strike up their unearthly crying and wailing while flashing their piercing eyes and churning up the rocks with their hooves until the lightning storm would fill the night and Saffron Tinker would quite loose control of himself, swearing and blinding like a devil and dancing and bounding like a man gone mad.

This is how it was for nights on end. One night in the belly of the night Saffron Tinker knotted a cord onto his combat claw and sped it towards the shining beasts until the claw caught in the flank of one of them and then Saffron Tinker started to draw in the cord and the shining beast started screaming and the claw took the hide clean off the side of the moaning beasts from its shoulder to its hind quarters and all the shining beasts came howling and roaring and gnashing their teeth and flashing their eyes to the side of the wounded one which lay crying quietly on its side in its own blood on the rock until the whole herd turned tail and charged away to the escarpment and we were not bothered by them again that night.

The next morning when I looked out from under the side of the tent who should I see encircling the camp but the Wire Bandits mounted on shining beasts in a line around us, stony faced and with arms folded on their chests and their eyes staring mute at the wounded one lying in its own blood stretching to lick dew of the stones. Its little eyes were dull and rolling like marbles in its head. I shook Saffron Tinker to wake him, but that didn't work - I suppose he was too tired to wake after being kept awake every night by the shining beasts.

"Saffron Tinker! Saffron Tinker! The Wire Bandits are here!" I cried giving him a nasty pinch on his purple nose.

"Leave me alone you weevil" said Saffron Tinker. The next minute he opened one round yellow eye and demanded, "What did you say?"

"The Wire Bandits are here and they want you."

"Oh heavens, what will we do now?" cried Pilgrim.

"Be quiet the two of you," said Saffron Tinker. "I'll go out to them then you useless cowards. Rock Jaw and I are thick as thieves, I don't envisage any difficulties, he eats out of my hand for God's sake, yes indeed, he is not as unreasonable as some would make out, not at all." He can be very brave, poor old Saffron Tinker.

With that Saffron Tinker wrapped his cloak about him and stepped out onto camp ledge. I say camp but it was really hardly more that a tent and an open hearth on a level patch under the mountain's eves.

I was watching from under the tent and Pilgrim was watching with me and both of us quaking and the tent quivering with us as we saw poor Saffron Tinker standing before the Wire Bandits and the bandits all pressing down on him and some lo them eaping from their shining beasts and pinioning him between. Rock Jaw raised his palm.

"Saffron Tinker!" said Rock Jaw, "You have injured my shining beast through black treachery and his value I claim. Oh rude serf, you will pay his value and the price of this insult to me!"

They bound old Saffron Tinker and flung him crossways on his stomach across the back of one of the shining beasts and then tied his wrists and ankles together to form a girth under the belly of the beast so that he could not even raise a hand to wave at us as they were leading him away.

As if in afterthought Rock Jaw stopped and turned his beast towards us in our tent. "And as for you two cowards hiding in there, your job is to mend my beast until he is well again and then you'll get Saffron Tinker back again. In the meantime I'll use him as my best beast.!" And with that the warband galloped away from us, their streaming pennants glistening behind them and their wild long hair swimming in the wind and we were not troubled by the shining beasts ever again.

"Bwwwww!" said the wounded one outside and we went out to see what could be done to try to mend him. His flank was an open wound and in spite of the cold there were already maggots squirming in his flesh. We washed out the wound with melted snow. The beast snorted and dribbled but was too weak to struggle. Then Pilgrim reached in his sack for the 'special stones' as he calls them and carefully laid them on the beast's flank over the wound. We lit a fire to keep the creature warm and we boiled water to make porridge with which to spoon feed him. Our beast slept the whole night through without groaning or anything and the following morning he managed to raise his head from the moss we had packed under his head as a pillow. His eyes had stopped rolling like marbles around in his head and fixed us with a steady gaze.

"Gwern Medicine Man you should be called," said Pilgrim, "not Gwern Excuses." I told him that I though there might be some good in his special stones after all.

We spent three weeks curing the beast and when he died we wanted to cry. We were almost sick because we had become best friends with the poor creature and he had come to lick our faces and to blow warm air up our nostrils.

"How shall we bury him with the ground hard like iron?" Really, Pilgrim is enough to infuriate anyone.

"Put the rest of your "special stones" over him for all they're worth now," I said crossly, blaming him and his old stones for everything. But it was stones from the mountainside that we collected in the end because Pilgrim refused to share any more of his silly stones.

We left the tent where it was and struck out for the gap above where Saffron Tinker used to point when we asked him before. The pass to the High Country was in the clouds that spiralled around us like cold smoke. At night Pilgrim had to resign himself to sharing my restplate or he would certainly have frozen as we had no tent and his cloak was worn threadbare and as we were both on our last legs and our provisions were gone and the daytime kept shrinking smaller and smaller every day and the chill of the mountain kept closing around us tighter every night. We must have left the Wild Country by now and reached the middle of Bleak Winter because there was nothing but mist below us with outcrops of rock coming through it like islands. The paths were all shale and ice and we were quite unsure which of them was the right one to take. There is no colour in Bleak Winter, no trees, no birds. A stump of a day and then a cloak of night from mid-afternoon to mid morning. On the last day Pilgrim put his sack down and sat like a wreath on a stone.

"My ears are bleeding and I've lost all feeling in my toes," he said. "I can't go any further."

" Well the pass won't come to us" I said accusingly.

"I am to blame for this" said he.

"Yes," I said, "because it's you who's supposed to know this wasteland and it's you who's supposed to get us over, you spineless useless weakling."

A shower of hail rose was the next plague to strike us, rising like a swarm of angry bees over the clifftop below and pelting us until we cringed. We managed to crawl to a crack in the rock to shelter but the restplate was of no use in a place like that. Pilgrim's stones didn't seem to be doing us much good either so I got hold of his sack and flung it over the edge of the precipice.

"You shouldn't have done that," said Pilgrim, his head handing like a duck in a Gameshop.

"Oh, shut it," I said as my eyes closed and my mind circled like a kestrel above a deep ravine.

It was a fine sunny ravine. I was falling and falling until my stomach was doing head over heels inside of me and the earth was rising like a ball towards me and all the time I was trying to raise back my head to arrest my fall before I hit the ground. But I landed like a feather after all, close to Gelli Aur at the orchard of Tyn Coed where the blossom boiled in the apple trees and where the green bracken was swept with warm insects in the sunlight and the cold smell of moss awoke in me a boy catching tiddlers in a jam jar by the stream as I went towards Tyn y Coed and you opened the door and smiled and said nothing so I knew I was only dreaming after all. "It's so cold in Bleak Winter, Caress," I said. "I know " you said, "I still love you and won't listen to Scarlet Nightshade's stories." I could smell flowers and sun as I watched your smile. "Why can't the dream last forever" I said. "Nothing lasts forever, Gwern," you said, your voice so warm and gentle. "Will you be nice to me forever, Caress?" I said. "They're looking for you" you said and then you turned on hearing the baby cry. The shadows were opening like roses and the river was a murmer far away, the slate flags of the footpath were sinking beneath my feet as you smiled gently and slowly raised your hand to wave goodbye and I couldn't move or raise my hand or make any gesture as darkness surrounded me.

 

1.  

 

2. Testimony Two ''''' Follows...

It was on the backs of mules that the Swarthy Cavedwarves carried us up to the High Country once they had revived us by rubbing us with some leaves similar to dock leaves but that stung like nettles. So Dai Takes Eggs's story about the mules being unable to negotiate the high passes was a pack of lies. "We are the masters of Bleak Winter," was the Swarthy Cavedwarves constant refrain. "We'll get a good price for a couple of ruffians like you from Grind Underfoot." They secured our feet under the bellies of the mules and tied our arms about their necks, to prevent us falling into the void below they said, and away we went through the day and then through the night with flaming torches lighting up our way. I have no recollection of how many days we spent on the journey to the High Country.

At daybreak one morning I knew we were close as I could see some black birds similar to ravens circling above and cawing. We hadn't seen birds of any description since leaving Sunless Summer and it made me think we must be close to High Country. I was correct for once. As the mules struggled forward over the boulders and in spite of having my face in the rough mane of my mule, I saw a gap opening in the mountain wall and smelt bracken burning on the breeze. On we went at a leisurely pace now, along an interminable valley floor. The path was now level for the first time. I remember that it had already started to become warmer even at the mouth of the pass, and it got progressively warmer as we went on. There was a strange type of bracken growing from among the boulders that swayed like seaweed in the tide. Above, on the valley slopes, we saw husbandmen working their ploughs behind cart horses, turning black glistening furrows of peat across the high grasslands, now stopping to mop the beads of sweat from their brows as they saw us pass. The change in the temperature was too much for me; I suppose I must have fainted, that was the last thing I remember until I awoke in a dark chamber with sunlight playing through the chinks in the drystone walls. I was so stiff I couldn't move so I just lay there. Pilgrim was snoring contentedly quite close beside me on the dirt floor. I managed to roll over to him and blew hard into his ear to wake him up.

"No...no..." he mumbled in his sleep, "I can explain about the stones. Just one chance..."

"Stop your jabbering and stir yourself" I said. "Tell me where we are."

"Is it you?" he said. "I thought you'd gone over the precipice... O, no, now I remember... It was you who threw away my stones!"

"Shut up about your stupid stones and tell me where we are!"

"How long did I sleep?" There was anxiety in his voice and his lips were quivering. I felt almost pity for him.

"Two weeks" I said cruelly to provoke him although I had no idea. "And you've only been blabbering in your sleep the whole time too!"

"Oh, no! What did I say?"

"A great deal too much, sonny boy. Is it true about Saffron Tinker?"

"I don't know what you're on about," he spouted sulkily. "Where are we?"

"For pity's sake, Pilgrim," I declared, beginning to lose patience, "You are supposed to tell me where we are. Only you know, Pilgrim, because only you have been here before if it is here that we are. We are in High Country, aren't we? Come on, tell me!"

At that the door creaked open and a man's shadow filled the open doorway. He must have seen that we were awake because he slammed the door shut again and we could hear his footsteps tinkling like a piano as he sped away over the loose slates.

In a while the door was opened again and six men's heads against the light peered into the cell without us being able to make out their faces.

"Out," said one.

"I can't move" said poor Pilgrim and a lance from somewhere came and stabbed him in the behind. He got to his feet quite quickly then, and I followed.

"This way," said the man.

Outside, the dazzling sunlight sparkled in our eyes like thousands of sovereigns gleaming from the leaves of the trees and bouncing from the streams and pools. Once I could see properly again all I could do was laugh at Pilgrim with his face as black as a collier, and he laughed at me and said I was the same. We asked if we might have a wash.

"No," said the guard

"You're welcome to water from my spring," said a pretty little maiden who appeared from somewhere and stood in our path.

"Hurry up then," snarled the guard.

We made the most of it and washed ourselves with the little maiden pouring spring water for us from her pitcher. With the cold cold water on our faces and the warm sun on our backs we soon felt a lot better.

"Aren't they friendly round here," said Pilgrim once we had set off again.

There were all kinds of birds flying free between the trees, species I had never seen the likes of before on any nature programme back home in Lowland. Big clumsy birds with long golden tail feathers and black wings and red crests on their heads, continuously calling and whistling to one another like referees and flocking to the bushes around us to get a good look at us and to see where we were going. The path slabs were worn smooth and being wet flowed before us like quicksilver between the two high walls down towards a village of grey stone walls and slate roofs with smoke rising like ribbons from the chimneys. The streets were paved with cobbles worn down to a smooth glow, nice and gentle under foot. There was one house larger than the rest with the High Country White on White flying proud from its pole on the rooftop, and it was towards this house that we appeared to be making our way. Having arrived we found it was not a house but a hall, and no holes in the walls here but fine plaster and murals all around the inside, battle scenes, fighting, and the Heartless Bodies being beaten by the warriors of High Country and the Wire Bandits on their Shining Beasts fleeing before their forces and the men of High Country raising their standard, the white star in a bright sky, over the battlefield. I'm sure they must have been glad to have beaten the enemy rather than to have been killed. I spent ages studying that High Country flag on the wall trying to make out the white star but for the life of me I couldn't find it, all I could see was the plain white square.

"Grind Underfoot : Prince of High Country," barked a cross little man from his raised throne. "I want answers and I want the truth. Do you understand?"

"What was the question, sir?" asked Pilgrim, receiving another spear stab from one of the soldiers for his trouble.

"We will be pleased to co-operate in any way we can, Grind Underfoot, sir," I said. Grind Underfoot reached for a roll of parchment and unrolled in with a flourish.

"Where is Saffron Tinker?" was his first question.

"With the Bandits, sir," said Pilgrim.

"Of his own accord or against his will?"

"They did not offer him a choice, sir, if that is what you mean," I replied. "But there it is, it him that killed the beast and..."

"Look you here!" growled Grind Underfoot starting to get angry. "I don't give a brass farthing who killed the beast, Saffron Tinker is supposed to accompany you to the Lower Level! I can't send you without him!"

"It doesn't appear that we'll be going,then," I said.

He lost his temper at that and started to shout. "You're damn lucky that Saffron Tinker's name is on the same paper as yours, boy! Otherwise I would derive the greatest of pleasure in having Giant Hands tear you limb from limb with his ten fine fingers!"

"Sorry, sir," said I trying to appease him. "Of course we'll be going to the Lower Level... When will Saffron Tinker be arriving?"

"Idiot! Moron! Fool! You are the ones who lost Saffron Tinker and you are the ones who are going to find him. There is nothing further to discuss! And just thinking about what will happen to you should you be so insolent as to fail makes even my bitter old blood curdle in my veins. Take them away!"

"I think he want's us to rescue Saffron Tinker" I said to Pilgrim once we were alone, this time in a hut of quality by the side of the hall.

"Is that what he wants?" said he, dense as usual. "Do you think we can manage it?"

"No." I was telling him the truth for once.

"What if we refuse?"

"Don't even think about it. We've got three days to prepare."

Yes indeed, everything was fine for us while we were in Stone Town. That was the name of the village as we were told. There are other villages in Red County but this is the best one according to those who live here. We were also told that there are three other counties in Central Province and that it is one of the five provinces of High Country. We stayed put in Stone Town otherwise I'm sure we would have got lost.

It was an agreeable enough place other than that the electricity supply had long since been disconnected and stolen by the Wire Bandits to be sold to the Exile States. Since there was no electricity the Network screens were of no use either and the news had to be carried by old fashioned messengers, like postmen in the olden days. They were able to get from High Country to Sunless Summer in less than a week, so it was said, not like us pitching camp on the edge of Wild Country and getting lost in Bleak Winter.

We were allowed free rein to go as we pleased and all we had to do was say that we were acting on behalf of Grind Underfoot and all doors would open before us and everyone would compete to offer their best to us.

Pilgrim was delighted, of course, and went off to the storehouse to choose all manner of trinkets, and to scour the streams for colourful stones. I left him to it and went for a walk above the village.

I was quite content looking at the birds looking at me, and whistling at them and they screeching crossly back at me for imitating them.

"Don't frighten the Flame Birds," said the little maiden having appeared from nowhere with her pitcher of spring water on her head.

"Gosh," I said, startled, "you're lightfooted enough anyway."

"You're from Lowland aren't you?" she asked. "Aren't you Gwern?"

"I am, yes," I said. "How did you know?"

"I'm Summer Nightshade Water Maiden. How long are you staying in High Country?"

"Couple of Days. We're going to rescue Saffron Tinker" I boasted. "Tell me," I added, "haven't you got family in my town?"

"Down in Lowland? Oh, sure, my cousin Scarlet Nightshade. Know her? We moved to High Country when the Heartless Bodies took my father and brother when I was small. I don't often hear from my family in my town now. I try to write but it's not the same since we lost the Wire Post. The new messengers are so slow, don't you think?"

"I remember now, yes, you had to leave, six, seven I'd guess you were, wasn't it? Suppose I wasn't much older myself come to think of it."

"I'm late with Grind Underfoot's water," she said smiling like the morning sun. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

I lingered awhile longer. I sat with my back to the bank by the cold spring listening to the water as it arched and fell deeply into the pool and watching the Flame Birds going through their paces above me, whistling and winking at me and hoping from bough to bough in the branches.

Pilgrim was lounging indolently on his mattress when I got back. Worn out, he said, having been selecting weapons for the journey back to Wild Country.

"I've been for a walk above the village watching the Flame Birds," I told him. "Come on, it's time we went to look for some supper."

We went to Leather Belly's place for supper and ordered two bottles of bilberry spirits and roast meat with roast potatoes and a loaf of bread, putting it all down on Grind Underfoot's account.

"You must come with me tomorrow to get your weapons for the journey," said Pilgrim as we ate. "There's a lot of choosing to be done, you know."

But it wasn't to choose weapons with Pilgrim that I went the next day. I went up for a walk above the village to see the Flame Birds going through their tricks and showing off like anything.

"Hi, Gwern," said Summer Nightshade over her shoulder as she bent over the spring pool to fill her pitcher. She never wears shoes does Summer Nightshade and she had her skirts all hitched up around her waist with her naked legs glistened wet in the sunlight.

"It's a nice day, Summer Nightshade," I said. "These birds are quite something, aren't they? Will you have a drop of bilberry spirits?" And I fished out the bottle that I'd kept from the night before and held it out for her to see.

She came to sit beside me by the bank and that's where we were drinking bilberry spirits and talking about Lowland and about High Country and about everything under the sun. Then I put my arm around her waist and felt her warm and soft under her shirt. She rested her head on my shoulder as if she was terribly tired.

"You're so pretty, Summer Nightshade," I said in her ear as I bent over to kiss her. Her lips were warm and yielding and her fragrance of blossoms filled my head as the sun caressed my nape and as the green grass under us soothed us and I closed my eyes and enveloped myself in her warmth as my mind opened towards you and as we lay I could hear the whirling of the warm insects and could see before me the emerald grass choking the path to Tyn Coed as swallows darted overhead and could see the dry moss on the stones in the river with only a trickle flowing like water down a plug hole and I felt the sun's heat radiating from the drystone walls of the orchard and a dragonfly going zig zag, zig zag with his wings whirling like a little helicopter. You were hanging sheets to dry in the garden with the boy at your feet playing with the pegs. He pointed at me as he saw me approach and made a gurgling noise in his throat and you turned to look as I walked up the path.

"You shouldn't have come," you said. "They'll know that you've been. Hey, Calonnog! Spit that out this minute!"

"I miss you Caress..."

"You can't miss something you've never had."

"Will you give me a bit of your heart to take with me? It would be a shelter against the tempest where I have to be. It's not much to ask of you..."

"You know you could have had it all, Gwern, but we both know you would only lay it to waste. The wound is only beginning to heal from the last time, things are different now, it belongs to the boy now, Gwern, I have to be strong for him. You know that, don't you, and I'm sorry I can't give it to you again Gwern."

I felt the world getting colder and I raised my head and heard the arched water plunge hard into the spring pool and saw a little cloud swallow the sun as Summer Nightshade opened her eyes and raised her head to see. A sharp breeze was blowing, the Flame Birds had long since vanished from the trees and the evening dew was deep and menacing on the bowed blades of the green grass.

"Damn that cloud," she said nestling closer.

"You won't tell anyone that I've been up here with you drinking and so on, will you..." I couldn't keep my voice from grating.

"Of course I won't" she said looking puzzled.

"Listen, Summer Nightshade, just in case you got the wrong impression, I only came up here because I thought you might be lonely drawing water by yourself all day and no one to keep you company. It was the spirits that went straight to my head, that's what it was... You won't mention this to anyone..."

All she did was jump angrily to her feet, straighten her skirts, snatch her pitcher and stride away from me with her bare feet slapping like flatfish on the smooth stones.

I went back to our lodgings feeling quite low at heel and there I sat for ages at the table by the window with my head on my arms until Pilgrim came in looking very worried.

"Who's eaten you're porridge this time, then?" I asked sharply as I raised my head.

"Well you've never been with me to choose your weapons for tomorrow," he answered. "Come on, hurry up, we'd better go now."

I decided to go with him anyhow, anything to turn my thoughts to another matter rather than keep thinking what you'd be thinking if you knew about me now.

They could only offer us old fashioned weapons, Pilgrim told me. He now obviously knew all there was to know about it having spent his three days inspecting and selecting them. The new ones were useless, apparently, because there was no energy left to power them, that's why. But I've got to say, you would never have seen such machines as they had there, no indeed. Hand to air missiles still gleaming in their paper, electric distortion bullets in their clean cotton wool covers, dessication rays, everything you could think of. And Pilgrim still badgering me, "Look, that's a good one, Gwern, and here, look, come on look at this one, isn't that a fantastic machine if it would only work." I saw restplates by the dozen, hard and transparent like Dai Takes Eggs's one, every size to fit like a glove; three edged swords, tridents, crossbows - all come from the museum. Everything was kept in the town lockup, that's where we were. What a dreadful place. Six of the Swarthy Cavedwarves, smaller even than Grind Underfoot, having been recruited from the caves of Bleak Winter and retained as warders of the prison. Two prisoners: two Bodies without Hearts, chained fast in a dark cell. Each of the Cavedwarves would be obliged to thump both Heartless Bodies on the head six times a day a thrice at night, so it was no surprise that they both looked the worst for wear. We entered their cell for a chat between wallops.

Very chatty they are too, the Heartless Bodies. They are the ones who have to fight for the Exile Sates, that's what Saffron Tinker had told us. They don't necessarily have to be from the Exile States but are often from elsewhere, having been possessed and processed by Rausman and his Counsellors who take their hearts from them and unless they fight they don't get them back again. I'm sure I'd have been made a Hearless Body had Fischermädchen caught me and handed me over to Rausman's Counsellors. And the only treatment for Heartless Bodies in High Country is to beat them, because without electricity the head wires are no use at all, and the beating seemed to be doing some good too. These two were actually volunteers from Zigenner City in the southern Exile States. They were full of praise for the treatment afforded them, saying how lucky they were to have survived the carnage in Bleak Winter the last time they had tried to crush High Country. It was to be noted, mentioned one of them, that of course they hadn't actually survived, rather that they had been rubbed over by the Swarthy Cavedwarves' healing herbs to bring them back to life again so as to be sold by the Cavedwarves for a unit a head to Grind Underfoot, and of course that kept their expatriates in the lockup in work as well.

"Actually it has been quite super," said the bald one called Wasser Schwoll. "They have all been frightfully hospitable."

"Isn't it a drag getting beaten black and blue all the time?" I asked feigning interest in their affairs.

"Certainly not!" said the one with his matted grey hair entwined about his body, Herz Erklingt I think they called him. "I is most essential to develop a physical relationship with one's captors and we feel privileged to receive such attention."

"What did he say?" asked Pilgrim.

"Time for your hiding," said the largest Cavedwarf.

"Just a minute," I cut across. "We're here on official business on behalf of Grind Underfoot so shut your gob and go make us some tea."

He went too. The tea was like dishwater although the two without Hearts complemented it warmly. The dwarf brought us biscuits as well.

We learnt a lot from those poor hostages. They were quite surprised that I spoke their language so well.

"What I don't understand," I said, "is why the Wire Bandits would steal High Country's power supply. I thought they were part of the confederation together with Lowland and all the rest under the presidency of High Country. Surely they would be wiser not to break ranks like this but stand firm together to prevent the Exile States taking back our freedom again. They'll get nowhere at each others throats like this."

"But of course, old man," said Herz Erklingt, "Quite inexplicable, we don't pretend to understand. Together you would be unconquerable. However I firmly believe that war is now inevitable as naturally the Exile States are bound to take a dim view of your unilateral declaration of independence. They were not even consulted about the matter. I am convinced that in this instance the whole edifice of this paltry alliance shall crumble before our superior tactical organisation. This time it will be final. Zuruchschlagen!"

"Zugang Zuruchschlagen!" rejoined the bald one. They were starting to get exited and trying to get up from the floor but the fetters kept them down.

"Shut your filthy mouths," I shouted angrily. I had a word with the Cavedwarves and gave them an extra unit each to give both of them an extra beating that evening. We bade farewell and were soon back at our lodgings by the hall in the centre of Stone Town.

We were due to set out the following morning. And set out we did. I had chosen a restplate and some other junk for the journey together with a tent and a mule. Pilgrim, of course, had selected a mountain of weapons, a sackful of stones and a pen full of mules to carry all his kit. "Fool" I thought to myself seeing him struggling with all his things for a wasted journey.

Down in Bleak Winter the weather came to hit us like a pole. I was having trouble enough with Pilgrim and his obstreperous mules. The burdens would constantly fall to the ground and Pilgrim would then have to secure them on their backs again, and the mules would then refuse to go on or otherwise refuse to stop, anything to infuriate Pilgrim and to retard our journey.

Inevitably, the Swarthy Cavedwarves fell upon us and stole ten of Pilgrim's mules, leaving him crying like a baby in a wet nappy.

"Hush now," I tried to soothe him. "You've got six left, and look I only have the one. So really, what are you crying about?"

"Yes, but you only had one to start with," he whimpered, "and I had sixteen fine mules and now I've only got six. That means that I've lost out terribly and I'm quite broken hearted about the whole thing." And he started to blubber again.

"Losing a mule or two isn't so hard to swallow for God's sake." I was beginning to loosing patience.

"I couldn't spare any of these to swallow," he snapped.

I was about to reach him a sharp cuff on the ear when all of a sudden the Ice Locusts descended upon us. A lucky intervention for Pilgrim.

They were rising up over the edge of the precipice and raining down hard upon us like hailstones, the mules were struggling and Pilgrim began wailing all the louder and there was I damning and cursing and trying to kill the Ice Locusts with a two yard sword.

When we were on all fours on the ground under the weight of the locusts the Swarthy Cavedwarves returned to plunder us again.

"Enough," commanded Snow Storm, leader of the Cavedwarves, and the locusts at once rose from us.

"Throw them over the precipice," she instructed her followers who held fast onto our arms and legs and proceeded to inch us towards the chasm.

"You're making a mistake," I cried.

"Not at all," she said. "This is the precipice we always use."

"We have messages for you from the High Country Lockup Cavedwarves," I shouted from the edge.

"Drop them," said Snow Storm.

"On the ground, she means," screamed Pilgrim, struggling

as they lowered him over the edge of the abyss.

We received a fine welcome after all, indeed we did. They treated us like proper gentlefolk, allowed us to visit their caves and meet their families and warm ourselves on Ice Locust stew.

We told them that the Jailhouse Cavedwarves sent their regards and that the two without Hearts were still being beaten and that there was talk that there might be many more Heartless Bodies available in Bleak Winter soon who could be sold as hostages to Grind Underfoot as they had done with the other two and with us as well. Snow Storm and her husband Rustrat were delighted to hear the news and they did not even bother to take all our mules, belongings and provisions as they had promised, but allowed us to keep a mule each. They also furnished us with plenty of Ice Locust sandwiches. We received also a bag of healing herbs into the bargain.

"Look us up any time," they called as we rode away.

"Certainly," called back Pilgrim. "When we can afford it," he added dryly.

"You're very materialistic calling yourself a pilgrim," I chided him as we left their sight.

"What does that mean?" said the innocent one.

"Gratified by all sorts of possessions and weapons and mules and such like."

"Well I never had any before and anyway I like animals, so what's wrong with that?"

"Oh, nothing, I'm sure," I muttered turning away from him towards the path in front of me and ignoring him thereafter.

We were left alone by the Ice Locusts and hence managed to reach the Wild Country by nightfall without further incident. There was our tent, as we had left it, in the middle of the camp ledge on the mountain escarpment, and still there also was the body of the shining beast, under its pile of stones, but we didn't approach it that evening. The rocky peaks below us rose up through the clouds like islands in a sea of cotton wool, and the setting sun dying the cotton wool pink all over. They seemed so solid, the clouds, that you would expect them to hold you easily should you leap towards them from the icy brink. We pitched a few stones down from the ledge but they always seemed to vanish before reaching the clouds so we never knew whether they were really caught and held in the mists. Night fell around us and we retreated to the tent. It was quiet as the grave, no lowing of shining beasts to frighten us in the darkness, but the sound of Pilgrim's breathing and the sound of the whispering canvass progressively became amplified until they filled my head and prevented me from sleeping. It was lucky I still had my restplate.

The next morning we ventured out to inspect the shining beast's grave. We dragged a few stones from around his head to see how he was. He was much the same, dead, but the cold (and the "special stones" according to Pilgrim) had kept him in a relatively good state apart from the maggots in his wounds.

"Will the healing herbs bring him back to life again?" asked Pilgrim.

"I doubt it," I said. "Well, we might as well try I suppose."

So we built a fire to thaw some ice from the mountain and boiled it to make tea with the healing herbs and after pulling all the stones off the shining beast we packed the tea leaves into his wounds and poured some of the tea down his throat and rubbed him with the healing herbs and by this time it was time for lunch.

We repaired to the tent for lunch. We had Ice Locust sandwiches, the ones the Swarthy Cavedwarves had kindly given us in return for the roast geese and spiced sausages that we had brought with us for the journey. Foul tasting things they are too, the Ice Locusts, and very little nourishment in them I would think, if the appearance of the Swarthy Cavedwarves is anything to go by.

Anyway, in the middle of trying to force down these sandwiches what should we hear but a weak voice calling "Bwwwwww" so we got up and went out to have a look.

The shining beast had risen shakily to his feet and was looking around in bewilderment. His hide of his flank had healed along its length apart from a little claw shaped scar on his shoulder where the weapon had gone in. He had become alarmingly thin, his ribs all showing through his skin.

"Hurrah!" shouted Pilgrim, "The special stones have done the trick!"

"Hold your rejoicing, nincompoop," I reproached him, "and go boil up a saucepan of porridge for him quick as you can."

"None left," he said. "Only Ice Locust sandwiches."

The shining beast devoured all the locust sandwiches and was still hungry so I sent off Pilgrim to look for moss and grass and such like. He returned eventually with a huge armful of rushes and moss which the beast was soon munching noisily. By the following morning the beast was right as rain while the two of us were beginning to droop from hunger.

"What's for breakfast?" asked Pilgrim as soon as he awoke.

"Nothing."

"Has the shining beast eaten everything?"

"Yes. You know he has. And here are you wasting all your energy dragging a sack of stones around with you everywhere. I don't know." I was feeling very peevish. "What else have you got in that sack?"

"More special stones."

"You and you're "special" stones. Let's have a look."

"No you don't. Get away. Let go..." But I was stronger than Pilgrim and I prized the sack from his grasp and emptied it's contents on the floor of the tent. And what do you think he had under the stones? Tins of baked beans, tins of sardines, packets of pancakes, jam, butter, slabs of chocolate... and two roast geese.

"Well for Christ's sake you selfish little glutton," I cried flying into a blind rage. "Hiding all this food from me and stuffing yourself behind my back! And all the while pretending to be starving! I'll throw you over the precipice for this you greedy swine!" I'm sure I wouldn't really have thrown him over but it was enough to frighten him.

"But I really I am starving. I haven't eaten anything from the sack, it's true really. I'm disciplining myself to overcome temptation, that's all... Can I put the food back now?"

"What nonsense. Overcoming temptation? If you don't pass me the tin opener this instant the temptation to stone you to death with your bloody "special" stones with be too much for me and I won't even attempt to overcome it!"

We had soon enjoyed a hearty breakfast and both of us felt a lot better. By God, there's no end to that Pilgrim's antics, indeed there isn't.

We set off again after that. We mounted the shining beast having tied the two mules behind us. Since we still had a spare tent we left the other one standing. The shining beast was given free rein to take us whichever way he pleased in the hope that he might chance upon one of his well worn trails that would lead us to Switchback City, the lair of the Wire Bandits, but unfortunately he didn't.

There is one good thing about Pilgrim and that is his sharp eyesight. He can spot a pin head at a hundred yards and tell whether it is rusty or not. Of course he would miss the most obvious thing right under his nose, but that's beside the point, he spotted the pylons. A long line of pylons marching over the hills far below us, he reported, while I saw nothing. The shining beast refused to take us in that direction so we brought the mules up from behind and tied the beast by two long ropes to the mule's collars, mounted the mules and led the beast like that. The bull beast could have dragged us to kingdom come should he have chosen to do so, being four times the size of the two mules together, but he chose to be led as docile as a pet lamb fair play to him. And there was no trouble getting the mules to move it with a huge shining beast breathing down their necks. We soon arrived at the pylons having come from the rough rocky regions to a boundless marshy plain where the cotton grass bowed before the wind. Where the pylon lines dipped over a distant knoll there could be seen red and yellow light flickering and colouring the low clouds. We approached warily that no one might see our coming, but there was no one there. The lines between two pylons had been uncoupled and a heavy black cable had been connected, which dangled down from them emitting, from the join, red and yellow sparks which flared terribly and made a frying sound all around.

"This is the work of the Wire Bandits," said Pilgrim.

"However did you work that out," I replied dryly.

We followed the cable as it wound like a huge black eel between the marshes and the knolls. It was only as it got dark that we made out the lights of Switchback City in the distance. At first all we noticed was a glow reflected in the clouds and then we saw it, spread out on the horizon like a shower of stars fallen to earth.

The shining beast was beginning to become restless, probably sensing that the herd was close. We could hear their lowing in the distance, thankfully they weren't keeping up such a din as they used to on the escarpment. Sam, our beast, had quite recovered by now. Hearing the herd he puffed himself up to his full height, easily three yards to his shoulder, and raised his up his massive bull like head to blow hot air into the sky and flash his electric eyes. He was always docile with us though, thank God, and would always insist on sleeping with his head sticking into our tent.

We decided to pitch camp on the marshland that night, in case we lost Sam in the darkness. All around us we could hear nothing but the sound of the shining beasts lowing and snorting and munching noisily as they chewed the cud, and their pungent smell was heavy on the cold air.

"I'll never get to sleep in a place like this," moaned Pilgrim.

"A good job too," I replied. "Someone has to stay awake to keep and eye on Sam in case he tries to escape." We called him Sam because we didn't know his real name.

"You won't try to escape from Pilgrim, will you Sam?" said Pilgrim soothingly.

"Bwwwwwww," said Sam.

The next morning Pilgrim was snoring like a hog and Sam was gone. I gave him a kick in the ear and he started to screech.

"I'll kill you for this you useless scarecrow," I shouted back at him.

"He's probably outside," said Pilgrim rubbing his ear. We went out to look. There was nothing to be seen but a sea of shining beasts peacefully grazing all around us and all of them identical to one another. It's only when the get cross that they start to flash their electric eyes so we were in no danger. But had I electric eyes at that moment I would have flashed them at Pilgrim and burnt him to a cinder.

Our mules had also escaped with Sam during the night. We were ravenous and feeling weak as two rag dolls. We couldn't even take down the tent, but stumbled on towards Switchback City. We were such a sight that no one noticed us.

Switchback City is a very disorderly place. It's not really a city, rather a shanty town of corrugated iron huts with tangled cobwebs of wires coming from them and crossing in all directions. Everywhere the wires spark and smoulder and crackle like anything and make hissing frying sounds all over the place.

"Excuse me, but we're looking for Rock Jaw," asked Pilgrim of a wild looking harridan who was busy plucking a duck in the doorway of her cabin.

"AAAAAaaaaarg!" screamed she at the top of her voice letting the duck fall from her grasp. The duck scrambled frantically away from her, quacking loudly. The harridan began shouting and pointing her finger at threateningly. I presumed that they were unaccustomed to see strangers coming amongst them. In no time at all we were brought before Rock Jaw who contemplated us wearily.

"We brought the shining beast, sir." My voice was louder than I had hoped.

"Get up of that floor you moron," he said with disinterest and I was given a kick up the backside which sent me half a yard into the air. "Where is he then?"

"I'm afraid he escaped last night, sir," I said. "Pilgrim here was supposed to watch him but he fell asleep. He escaped with our two mules. He must be with his friends in the middle of the herd by now."

"Do you not think that I have heard that one before, sonny?" said Rock Jaw reaching for a meat cleaver and starting to trim a bit around his beard. "I have ten thousand shining beasts on yonder plain."

"You've got ten thousand and one now," said Pilgrim, poor fellow.

"Take the comedian for a walk, Blue Gash," said Rock Jaw with a yawn. "You might like to show him your collection of pointed sticks?"

We could hear Pilgrim's screams for a long while afterwards.

"Isn't he a silly goat," I said. "He is to blame. But I'll find your beast for you, Rock Jaw, honest I will. Can Saffron Tinker be set free afterwards?"

"No he can not. And neither can you. I am annoyed. I am cross. Nothing pleases me. And with Burnt Tongue nagging me all the time... Everyone owes me energy units and I owe energy units to everyone. I am not in a good mood. At least I shall have a few minutes entertainment this afternoon when it is time to feed the ravenous beasts. A bit on the skinny side was that other one, however no matter. Granite Fist and Chews Boulders, take him away."

"I'm so sorry to hear about all your difficulties, sir," I called as they dragged me out by the feet. "Really," I muttered once out of earshot, "I don't know what's so bloody special about that beast."

"Your game is up, anyway, sonny," said one of the guards, having overheard me. "Loosing Rock Jaw's bull beast! Ho, ho, ho..." And they laughed and laughed at my expense as if I were a circus clown.

"Well what was the work of the bull beast that Saffron Tinker has to carry out in it's place?"

"Ho, ho, ho... You'll find out soon enough. Saffron Tinker's on his last legs by now, I expect. He will be glad of your help I'm sure. Here we are, open up the cage Chews Boulders, in he goes!"

My, Saffron Tinker looked tired. He hardly raised an eyebrow in my direction as I sailed into the cell. His beard was matted and his purple nose was unpolished and dull. The shining beasts must transgress pretty often as well, I thought, as there was a cell full of them there also, stinking worse than Saffron Tinker.

"It's been a long time, Saffron Tinker," I said in case he hadn't recognised me.

"Not tonight," replied the poor bewildered fellow.

"It's me, Gwern Excuses!"

"Can't you see the red cross on their sides?"

"No, listen it's Gwern Excuses, come to rescue you, Saffron Tinker. The beast you killed is right as rain again."

"Yes, sir, all these ones already seen to. Notice the crosses!"

"You don't seem to understand, Saffron Tinker! And Pilgrim is around here somewhere. We'll all get out of here, you'll see!"

"It is crucial."

"Yes, Saffron Tinker, yes it is."

"Sir, it is crucial that I be accorded a ladder boasting a view over extensive newspaper with November externally at its base if you would be so kind or I shall telephone for additional eggs."

"I don't know," I said, unable to make head nor tail of his gibberish. "Anyway, we lost the bull shining beast on the way so who knows when we'll get out of here now."

"Oh you irresponsible rascals!" Saffron Tinker raised two tired eyelids revealing two angry yellow eyes. "I'll kill you both! Where is Pilgrim?"

"He was impudent to Rock Jaw. He has a good shouting voice, doesn't he?"

"Had, I'm afraid. Poor thing. A pity. Rest in Peace etcetera. What is the time? Oh, yes they are, by now I would imagine.'

"Stop moidering and speak straight, man!"

"Yes, wormwood and a half in a bucket is what I said and no treacle on it this time thanking you very much too you unkempt old magpie!"

"Pull yourself together, Tinker!"

"And how does the husband like prison then? Better off there, they say, than being with you, you dirty sow not even bothering to wash the sheets before eating them and I know all about your gorging yourself while I starved, you swollen suet pudding, to hell with you, spending all my few savings on your chapel hats and funeral handkerchiefs, you swollen stinkhorn pillaging the trees of their leaves in Winter and strutting around as if you were related to Snowdon but you will be disappointed! I will silence you, oh yes... oh yes I will, I will..."

"Let go of me you crazy madman," I shouted as he tried to strangle me, thinking that I was Mrs Tinker, back to haunt him after he did her in one drunken night without telling anybody because he had had enough. It was Pilgrim who knew the full story and he had let slip enough of it talking in his sleep on the back of his mule in Bleak Winter.

Thank heavens there were plenty of loose rocks strew around and I got hold of a heavy one and let him have it on the temple until I could see little stars circling around his head and until his grip slackened and he crumbled to the floor like a sandcastle, lying there groaning and dribbling blood and blathering quietly to himself. I stepped back and went to sit in the farthest corner of the cage away from him to mull over my difficulties.

"Oh, what the hell will I do now?" I said to myself. "Where is that treacherous Pilgrim, gone and left me? Tinker has lost his marbles and I'll lose mine here... Oh, what shall I do?... Why did they have to come for me at all? There are worse ones than me who've been allowed to stay and no one persecutes them... It was that bitch Scarlet Nightshade who started all this, does she think I don't know she's thick as thieves with Fischermädchen? It was her who told Fischermädchen who programmed the virus into the Persuasion Department's computer software... And now this... " My poor head felt brittle as a robin's egg, the cage was undulating like the waves of the sea before my eyes and the shining beasts were nudging their damp noses into my face, blackness was closing in around me and there I was in broad daylight standing again on the cart track to Tyn Coed where the leaves fell in showers and the bracken rusted, where the bowed grass was wet underfoot and the slabbed path slippery as soap, where the crows cawed from the crowns of the stark oaks and the smell of the far marshes hung upon the breeze, I walked on as the river dressed it's white ribbons about the proud rocks while the cobwebs of drizzle clung to my hair and the flattened smoke slunk from the looming chimney and I knocked and heard your voice calling "Come in" and I went in to the warm smell of a wood fire and ironing clothes and you put down the iron and glared at me with pin prick pupils.

"What do you want?"

"I came to see you and Calonnog."

"He's not here. You've got a nerve. Coming here as bold as brass when everyone knows what you've been up to. Get out of here, go on back to your Summer Nightshade you womanising swine and to the others too!"

"Where is he?"

"With Scarlet Nightshade. You won't see him again. Get out of my sight. I don't want you here."

"Let me explain..."

"Come one step closer and you'll get this iron in your face. Just go!"

"Be careful with that Scarlet Nightshade. Be careful Caress. One day you'll know who is true to you and who isn't."

"Get out you twofaced bastard! And don't darken my door again!" With that you started to shake me like a rattle, shoving me back towards the door until I was reeling from side to side and you were hitting he about the head with the iron as I bent like a reed in the wind and the whole room became darker and darker, spinning away from me at the end of a long tunnel like looking down the wrong end of a telescope and Pilgrim's voice calling, "Wake up, Gwern, wake up will you" as he stood over me shaking me like a rag doll and whacking me about the head with his shoe.

"What the hell d'you want?" I said peevishly. "Can't you see I'm sleeping, leave me alone."

"Snap out of it, Gwern, hurry up! Come on, we're leaving!"

"How did you get here, Pilgrim?" I spluttered as I came to my senses. "I thought you'd had it good and proper from them for being impudent with Rock Jaw?"

"Oh, that? Yes," he said nonchalantly as if he were an old hand at being thrashed. "But I found the shining beast and Rock Jaw says we can go now."

"Where did you find him, Pilgrim?"

"It was him who found me," he said scratching his nose pensively. "There I was, lying at the bottom of Rock Jaw's ditch, and Granite Fist letting loose the ravenous beasts from the fasting pen to fall upon me and devour me when a huge shining beast came from behind and butted him into the ditch on top of me and then bent his big black head down to me until I could grab his horns and he pulled me out and started to lick my face and to blow warm air like the smell of biscuits up my nose while the ravenous beasts swallowed up Granite Fist. There was a little scar the shape of a claw on his shoulder and I shouted, "Sam Rock Jaw's shining bull beast!" And that's how I gained forgiveness for being cheeky with Rock Jaw, although I hadn't really thought to be cheeky with him at all, it's just he's thin skinned as a frog and..."

"Yes, yes, very good, you can shut up now," I cut across him. "Where is Saffron Tinker then, we have to take him with us?"

"With the mules."

"O dear," I said dejectedly. "Thinks he's a mule now, does he?"

"Actually, no. Thinks he's a saddle now, wants to be stretched over his mule's back with his hands and feet making a girth about the mule's belly as he was tied by the Wire Bandits, and he wants me to sit on top of him."

"Well, I suppose at least we won't have any trouble in getting him back like that." Boulder Biter held the door open as we left the cage.

"I'm sorry about Granite Fist," I said to him as I passed.

"I'm not," he replied.

"It is not usual for me to thank anyone for anything," said Rock Jaw as we stood before him in the Big Hut. "So bugger off before you annoy me. However, before you go, is there anything you would like to take with you as a souvenir?"

"I'd be very happy if I could keep these little stones I collected in your ditch," said Pilgrim.

"Keep them then, and treasure them," said Rock Jaw. "Saffron Tinker, what do you choose?"

"I'll have my girths oiled with goose fat that the leather may be supple should you see her say that I remember to append a foreword."

"Boulder Biter!" shouted Rock Jaw, "Smite the lunatic." Boulder Biter boxed Saffron Tinker's ears and the Tinker thanked him heartily.

"Gwern Excuses," Rock Jaw turned regally towards me. "What would you like as your souvenir of Switchback City?"

"Well, sir, since you are generous enough to make the offer, I was wondering would it be possible for you to restore the electricity supply to High County please? It's so boring there without television, sir."

"Fine," said Rock Jaw. "And now, adieu to the three of you. Give my regards to Grind Underfoot... Oh, and tell him that the wires predict war."

"We surely will, sir," said Pilgrim and out we went to the mules. Pilgrim adjusted Saffron Tinker on the mule's back and then climbed up to sit upon him as we set out for High Country without once looking back in case Rock Jaw changed his mind.

I can vaguely recall that the return to High Country was as long, cold and arduous as ever, but that's about all I can remember because Saffron Tinker had swallowed the energy pack of my mobile processor resulting in my being unable to enter my usual notes. All I now remember of the journey is a confused muddle of disjointed troubles.

However we obviously must have reached High Country at last, and what a welcome had been laid on for us! High Country's white on white banners were displayed all along the streets and the population were all on their doorsteps cheering us on, others were waving at us from upstairs windows and throwing multi coloured paper streamers down on us as we passed. Even the Flame Birds were there, performing somersaults in the air and screeching at us like mad things; what with them and the meowing and droning of the pipers and the booming of the drums and with the sun beating down on our heads it was no wonder that my head was spinning worse than Wil Pickled Herring's on a Sunday morning.

Of course Pilgrim was delighted with it all. I suppose he thought the celebrations had been laid on just for him. There he rode through the pressing throng pleased as punch and smiling like a Cheshire cat, waving in triumph to the people on every side. Every now and then he would rise up in his stirrups so that he might count how many had turned out to watch and he would get quite irritated that no one had bothered to lay palm leaves in front of his mule. Saffron Tinker underneath him had managed to get one hand free from the thongs binding him and had started to shake his fist, swearing and cursing and shouting some uncouth nonsense as he tried to raise his head to spit at anyone who would get too close.

What with these two acting the goat like this and the crowd pressing in on us from both sides and the mules forever stopping to graze the coloured streamers it was little wonder that we took a good hour to reach Grind Underfoot's hall and so I suppose it was no wonder that he was cross about being kept waiting all that time.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded instead of welcoming us back from our journey as perhaps he might have done.

"We've been to the Wild Country where we rescued Saffron Tinker from the Wire Bandits," said Pilgrim with a proud grin.

"Come here," commanded Grind Underfoot.

Pilgrim mounted the steps up to his dais and stood before the throne. "Bend forward," said Grind Underfoot and without another word lashed out a ringing blow to Pilgrim's forehead. "Stupid boy," he added with another stinging clout to the side of his head. "I happen to have been waiting for you here for one hour and ten minutes. Nobody slights Grind Underfoot in this way without paying the value of a prince's insult. Do you understand?" With that he brought his knee up between Pilgrim's legs making him close like a book and collapse in a groaning heap on the floor. "Do you understand now, you insolent little weevil?"

"YYyyyees, sir...YYyyess, sir..." whimpered Pilgrim without a trace of a smile on his ashen face. "I'm very sorry, sir...It won't happen again, sir."

"That's better," said Grind Underfoot. "Now get up off my floor you maggot or you'll spoil the shine of my slates. Go on, get away from me down to those two monkeys down there!" Pilgrim had hardly struggled to his feet when he was dealt a mighty kick in the behind which sent him sailing through the air towards us to land on his nose at our feet.

"Why is it always me that gets hit?" whined Pilgrim through his tears. I kicked him to make him shut up.

"Now then," continued Grind Underfoot, "here is an invoice each for the value of this insult to me. One hour ten minutes of a prince's time at ten thousand units an hour, that makes three thousand eight hundred and eighty units each to be paid within seven days. And now, finally, what tidings from the Wild Country?"

I nudged Pilgrim with my foot to get him to stand up and give his report. He had worn an old tie for the occasion which he straightened and clearing his throat with a cough announced: "Burnt Tongue wife of Rock Jaw says there are no tidings left after computer viruses corrupted the software on all her tidings and forecast terminals. But I found some nice red stones in Grind Underfoot's ditch, sir, and he let me keep them too, as a souvenir of Switchback City, because it was me who found his shining beast, sir, and these are the very best stones that ever i had, sir, look, you can see them twinkling and sparkling."

"Bring them here...Hmmm...These are mine now." It was really a shame to watch Pilgrim fighting back the tears as he

transferred his little collection to Grind Underfoot.

"Saffron Tinker is very quiet," announced Grind Underfoot turning his attention away from Pilgrim. "Take that gag from his mouth and let us hear what he has to say."

"Begging your pardon, sir," I ventured, "but I am not sure how wise that would be, sir..."

"Do it!" Screamed Grind Underfoot and we hurriedly tore the binding from his head and pulled the rag that had been stuffed in his mouth to put paid to his ranting.

"Saffron Tinker," declared Grind Underfoot, "present your report from Switchback City. Were you well served?"

"Served? I was only served that's all, what the hell's the matter with you all here, where's the goose fat I've already ordered, no one's lubricated the girth straps, the carwden is loose from the strodur and God alone knows where this scatterbrained boy's put the tindres, he must be sorely punished for this I'm telling you and what's the use me telling you and nobody taking a blind bit of notice when I say the girth needs tightening and this one here riding as if he had his trousers full of ants it's no wonder his mule is unruly, good Lord Jesus he's a giddy goat this boy, there's nothing in there between those two cabbage ears of his, I know from bitter experience, oh yes, many's the time I've been there searching for the tindres and finding nothing but cobwebs and a dusty copy of Pilgrim's Progress with the pages all stuck together and the little rascal knows full well I can't stand the smell of that grease he rubs on his back side because he's such a pampered softy who isn't used to riding mules always walking everywhere like some wingless heron, my God he needs some sense knocking into his head, so he does and if you won't do it then I will and I'm telling you..."

"That's enough!" Shouted Grind Underfoot getting into a temper.

"Don't try to patronise me just because you've lost the best saddle you ever had because you won't get me and that's that! Go straight to hell!"

"Put the rag back in his mouth!" roared Grind Underfoot beside himself with rage, bouncing up and down on his dais. "If I had permission I would torture him to death with a hot poker for that!"

"Why the hell do you need permission if you're a prince?" shouted Saffron Tinker spitting out the rag we were trying to force into his mouth. "What a second rate prince, having to get permission from Faithful Night, probably even has to ask to go to the toilet I surpooooonngngngn ngngnwweengwee..." The rag did the trick eventually and we bound it tight.

"I'm afraid he's lost his marbles, sir," I explained apologetically. "He was forced to live in a cage full of shining beasts day in and day out after he killed Sam, Rock Jaw's bull beast. You mustn't take any notice of him, sir."

"What about you, then, sonny?" said Grind Underfoot still steaming like a kettle. "What's your story? Come on."

"Humbly report, sir, Rock Jaw sends his regards and has agreed to restore the electricity supply."

"That's done it! Right, I shall have you torn limb from limb for that! You're even madder than the other two! Sends me his regards, indeed! Restored the electricity supply, indeed! Oh, you unpleasant little insect, come here!"

"But it's true, sir, look, you'll soon see." I ran to the nearest light switch. Nothing happened.

"Guards, arrest him!" he shouted as I ran from switch to switch down the hall.

"Probably the element," said Pilgrim dejectedly, "needs a new bulb probably, or perhaps a fuse has blown."

"Rock Jaw said something else as well," I called over my shoulder as I dodged the guards. "He said the wires predicted war and..." I couldn't finish because Giant Hands had got hold of me and was beginning to twist my head from my shoulders.

Grind Underfoot raised a hand and my head was released. "Well why didn't you say so before? Guards, bring bulbs from the storeroom and find Bright Spark and bring him here to fix the fuse."

The new bulbs were obtained. The fuse was mended. The lights were switched on and a wave of white light rippled from one end of the hall to the other like a stone thrown into a pool. Grind Underfoot switched on his grid screen which hummed and whirred and the screen flashed up the green opening menu.

"You can go," said Grind Underfoot not looking up from his screen. He seemed to have lost interest in us. "Oh, just a minute," he added. "The word is that the three of you are to present yourselves tonight in the Lower Level... And don't forget that you owe me for the insult, because I won't!"

On our way out who should we meet but Summer Nightshade bringing spring water for Grind Underfoot.

"Hello, Summer Nightshade," I said looking down at my feet and feeling myself blushing.

She strode right past us as if I wasn't even there.

"Did you know her?" asked Pilgrim. "Wasn't that..."

"No, not really."

"Nggnggg wwwww ngg," said Saffron Tinker but we couldn't understand him with his mouth full of rags.

Outside on the street the flags had gone and the coloured streamers were no longer littering the streets. The Flame Birds had gone to roost. An evening breeze stirred up the dust in the gutters. There were very few people about and those that were kept their heads down as they went about their business, as if struggling against a strong wind.

We struck out sharply for the edge of town. On turning a corner we bumped into a little old lady bent almost double, dragging a heavy sack behind her. "Excuse me," I asked taking a step back, "do you know the way to the Lower Level?"

She didn't answer, didn't even raise her head, but just struggled on past us without a word.

"Ngggannngw," said Saffron Tinker pointing with his elbow towards the surrounding hills.

"Yes, this way," declared Pilgrim crossing the road.

"The mad leading the blind," I said as I resigned myself to following them out of the village into the blue and white world of a full moon night on the mountain.

Having spent several hours stumbling about the arid hillsides we suddenly found ourselves before a great oak door studded with iron nail heads like black currants over it and with a massive oak frame around it at the foot of a sheer white granite cliff face which sparkled in the moonlight.

"This is where he lives, probably," said Pilgrim wiping the sweat from his brow and making the dry soil crunch under the soles of his boots as he turned towards it.

"Who d'you mean?" I asked.

"Well the Answer Keeper of course," and he knocked hard on the door.

No one came to answer his knocking and what did he do but catch hold of the latch and pull the door towards him on rasping hinges and stuck his head in.

"Ouch!" he cried stepping back and holding his head in his hands.

"Stupid idiot," I said leaning forwards to rap my knuckles against the smooth white wall of granite that blocked the doorway.

We continued on our way, clambered up the hillside and there, on the summit, was a black hole which, upon inspection, contained stone steps descending into the bowels of the mountain.

"I was right," said Pilgrim. "That's where he lives, all right! Down in the Lower Level!"

"Nggwaa nggwaaa," said Saffron Tinker backing off. We hauled him after us with two ropes the Pilgrim found in his sack.

"We may as well try it," I said and down we went.

The Answer Keeper must be a very parsimonious man, I thought to myself, or perhaps he doesn't realise that the power supply has been restored. The black hole of Calcutta would be light as day compared with this hole, for Christ's sake.

Having reached one thousand two hundred and something as I counted the steps on our way down Pilgrim made me lose my count by asking the Answer Keeper' phone number.

"What the hell do I know?" I snapped angrily. "What's the matter with you asking such stupid questions and making me lose my count you brainless gecko?"

"I thought we could telephone him to find out if he's at home."

"Oh, brother!" I exclaimed, "and have you got a mobile phone in that sack as well, have you? It won't work down here you know."

"No, no, Gwern, here, there's a phone in the wall here. I can feel it under my hand. Look..."

"Look indeed," I said feeling my way towards his voice keeping my palm to the rough wall to try to find out what he was on about.

There really was a telephone in the wall and as I put the receiver to my ear a voice said "Lower Level O, O, O"

"Is the Answer Keeper home?" I asked.

"Who's there?" asked the voice.

"Us."

"Who are you?"

"Gwern Excuses, Pilgrim and Mad Saffron Tinker."

"Come in."

"In where?"

"Put the phone down then turn into the tunnel that will open before you to your right hand side as you go down."

"Could you switch on the lights for us?" But the voice had gone leaving nothing but the tone.

The tunnel was as dark as the stone stairs but as we followed it the walls fell away from us and soon our footsteps were floating into space all around us and nothing to be felt in any direction but the floor under our feet as we ran this way and that in the dark without bumping into any obstacle or impediment other than one another occasionally. We heard Saffron Tinker let out a panic stricken "Nggwaaa Ngggwwaaaa" and stopped to listen for the echo of his voice from some far wall but the sound was gone like a stone falling into a cloud.

"Welcome," the voice whispered by our side.

"Is that what you call it," snivelled Pilgrim in a tearful voice. He's rather afraid of the dark, I think.

"Are you the Answer Keeper?" I asked to which the voice laughed heartily.

"I am Faithful Night, my friends. I am his servant. It was I who ordered Grind Underfoot to send the three of you here."

"How can a servant order a prince to do anything?" said Pilgrim who seemed to have got over his initial fright somewhat. Faithful Night took no notice of him.

"I have work for you," he said.

"Ngwaa Ngwaa Nggng," said Saffron Tinker who must made his way towards our voices.

"What did he say?" asked Faithful Night.

"He's rather eccentric, sir," I explained. "In fact he's bonkers."

"Let him speak!"

Pilgrim must have caught him and pulled off the binding around his head because the next minute Saffron Tinker's voice flooded the void like a sluice gate opening: "...telling me her old lies and expecting me to believe them, 'what's the matter with you' I said to her, 'do you think I'm crazy you old crow, put the bedroom light on will you, you slut so's I can see your ugly mug so's I can belt you one' says I and what does she do, she lights a match and sets the bed on fire and there I am tied hand and foot and the flames blistering the ceiling and licking the soles of my feet and she throws open the window roaring with laughter into the night, 'laugh will you?' says I as I fry like a trout in butter, 'have you enough light now, you odious crab,' she says and I'm telling you now that..."

"Shut up, Saffron Tinker," I said lashing out a fist in his direction and connecting with a smack.

"Ouch you bastard!" cried Pilgrim who's nose appeared to have been in the way.

"Now, now," said Faithful Night, "none of that here! And Saffron Tinker, you pull yourself together or it will be the worst for you."

"Worst he says," shouted Saffron Tinker. "Worst he says the lying devil it's no better for you having stolen the light bring it back to me or I'll trample you under foot do you hear you cunning swine where have you hidden it I'll half kill you, you bogeyman and who are all these other people, go to hell the bloody lot of you, go on before I beat you all to a pulp."

"That's enough unless you want the mouth rag," I said and surprisingly Saffron Tinker remained quiet.

"When the wise go astray they go well astray," commented Faithful Night with a sigh.

"He never was wise," said Pilgrim.

"What's this work you've got for us then?" I asked. "Is the pay good?"

"Pay?" There was incredulity in Faithful Night's voice. "Is the honour of serving your people not enough reward for you, Gwern Excuses?"

"The hell it is. What have they ever done for free for me?"

"Fine. We shall therefore have to hand you over to the Heartless Bodies, I understand they are keen to meet you. I am sure you will be warmly welcomed by Befehlnotstand and the Heartless Bodies, perhaps even by Rausman personally I should not be surprised."

"What do you want me to do, sir?" I said.

"Could you turn on the lights down here, if you see fit?" pleaded Pilgrim.

"There is no light down here therefore I do not see fit to do anything. However I do feel that which rests upon people's hearts and I find that quite sufficient to know them, light or no light."

"What does he mean, Gwern?" asked Pilgrim.

"I don't believe it," I said. "What's in Pilgrim's heart, poor devil, if you're so clever?"

"In his heart there is a river flowing uphill," said Faithful Night.

"What do you mean?" asked Pilgrim. "What about Saffron Tinker, does he have a heart?"

"Oh, yes. In his heart there is a wild river flowing into a deep cave."

"Don't give me that crap," I said trying to laugh. "What's in my heart then? Tell me that?"

"In your heart there is a river flowing between valley meadows with tree branches hanging over it, Gwern, and a ruined cottage on its banks with brambles' fingers poking out of the windows."

"I'm not going to listen to this twaddle," I said sharply. "Tell us what you want with us or let us go!"

"Calm down now, Gwern," said the voice slowly. "You've done quite well up to now, don't blow it... Well, yes, so be it for all that, as you are no doubt now aware, Rausman has ordered Befehlnotstand to mass the Heartless Bodies along the borders of the Exile States and the forecast is that there will soon be another strike against the Alliance."

"We heard some such rumours," I said.

"Right then. Well, now that you have won back Rock Jaw's allegiance to High Country and the Confederation..."

"Forgive me," I butted in, "but all he did was agree to restore the supply he had stolen and..."

"Exactly. Yes, Rock Jaw has always been something of a black sheep but now he's back in the fold where he belongs, thanks to you! I'm sure Grind Underfoot's face was a sight worth seeing when you told him Rock Jaw sent him his regards."

"He got angry because he thought Gwern was fibbing," said Pilgrim.

"I also note that you have to some extent pacified the Swarthy Cavedwarves. It was no mean feat to get them on your side. So now listen, I have advised the Answer Keeper to appoint you his War Envoys to carry the message to mobilise forces to all members of the Alliance! Are you willing and able?"

"Well I'll have a go," I said. "But I don't know if I can manage it with these two clowns for assistants."

"The boy want's to go alone, wants to go alone he does, alone it is he wants to go, let him go alone, yes, yes, he's to go all on his own, that's it, that's it, that's it..."

"Be quiet, Saffron Tinker," said the voice in an official tone. "You all must go."

"Does that include me, sir?" asked Pilgrim and I hissed "Hush now" in his ear for being so silly.

"Put out you hand, Gwern," said the voice. I did so and felt immediately the cool roughness of the tunnel wall beneath my fingers. "The steps are to the left some way down," continued the voice. "Tell no one of your mission, send nothing through the wires. Oh, and you had better leave your mobile processor here, Gwern, just in case. Grind Underfoot will provide everything necessary for your journey. I shall expect you back here in due course. Do you all understand? Gwern?"

"Understood, sir."

"Saffron Tinker?"

"Yes, it is he, I am convinced, what is the charge this time, sir?"

"Pilgrim?"

"May I have the question again, sir, so as to be sure of the answer?"

By the time we reached the head of the stairs the sun was high in the sky making us squint through our fingers. It was downhill all the way and in no time we were back in Stone Town and we went straight away towards Leather Belly's place where we ordered food and drink as much as we could eat and the best rooms in the house to sleep out the day and sleep through the night.

We were woken that night by Dai Takes Eggs who had travelled far and wide in search of us.

"Thought you might like to hear these," he said chucking four tapes onto my bed.

"Oh, great, some new releases!" said Pilgrim from the other bed. "We only get to hear old fashioned stuff up here."

"Oh shut up, Pilgrim," said Dai Takes Eggs. "Come on, hurry up, we can listen to them in the sound chamber. Where is Saffron Tinker? Sleeping upstairs? Leave him there... Hey, Gwern, you're on these tapes and so is Fischermädchen. I had a hell of a job getting hold of them."

"What if the Seen and Heard knew?"

"They don't suspect a thing, Gwern. Stroke of luck for once. Come on, let's go."

He told us he'd obtained a special pass that would admit him to the most secretive places, that he'd been given it by Faithful Night himself, that's what he told us; that he had penetrated the depths of the Seen and Heard's underground chambers and had managed to lift these four tapes and have them copied before anyone could detect a thing or suspect him in any way. We were supposed to believe him, I suppose, but Dai Takes Eggs never tells the whole truth, I guess he's no longer able to, and in many ways that's probably a good thing in his position, being a spy. Suspicious of everyone and thinking that everyone is suspicious of him. He must be convinced that we are trustworthy at least. He's from Lowland, isn't he, or that's what I've always heard.

As Leather Belly was busy in bed with a visitor from the border regions we were obliged to borrow a bottle of spirits from his store without asking. It was a good thing too that we took it as we would never have stayed awake in the warmth of the sound chamber without it, not at five in the morning, slouched in the deep and cozy seats of the auditorium.

"Stick a tape in the player," said Dai Takes Eggs throwing one of them at Pilgrim. I relaxed back into the seat with my legs over the back of the one in front as the chamber began to echo like a cave. The clicking and whirring of the wires was suddenly broken by the familiar rasp of Fischermädchen's voice seemingly coming from all directions at once.

"...At last! Where have you been, Gwern? I've been waiting for your call."

"I know. I'll be round first thing in the morning if you like. Is it anything to do with the work on the network? Listen, I did tell them I was not entirely sure about the new software... Are they really angry?"

"Tomorrow morning eight o'clock. Don't worry about anything, Gwern. Come at eight, everything is fine."

"I didn't know you'd been on radio, Gwern," said Pilgrim but Dai Takes Eggs raised a finger to his lips to shut him up.

The wires clicked and whirred again and through them came her voice enveloped us again, this time cold and purposeful as she demanded, "Bettnachzieher!"

"He is in bed, Madam Fischermädchen."

"Well get him!"

"We are not certain in whose bed he is tonight, Madam Fischermädchen."

"Put me through to General Befehlnotstand."

"Do you have a security clearance code, Madam Fischermädchen?"

"Twelve twenty two sixty six. Now put me through you cheap little trollop before I get angry."

"Right away, Madam Fischermädchen."

Some strange music came over the speakers and then we heard a receiver being picked up and a man's voice talking like the sound of a stream gurgling over pebbles. "Fischermädchen. I presume that this is important."

"General Befehlnotstand, my apologies for troubling you. Bettnachzieher was out... again - he never seems to be at his post. I had no option but to come through to you although I realise it should be dealt with by a lower rank. If only Bettnachzieher would be more diligent! General Befehlnotstand, the slippery eel has swallowed the bait. I shall be drawing in the line at eight tomorrow morning. The Heartless Bodies can come!"

"Hmmmm. We as it happens, Bettnachzieher is here with me discussing strategy. Fortunately he is one of the few who are not tied to their desks. I will advise him of the situation. By eight tomorrow everything will be in place."

"Thank you Gener..." The line closed. "Swine," said Fischermädchen coldly.

"Haven't you got any tapes with pictures?" asked Pilgrim. "These ones are so boring."

"What d'you want, jam on both sides?" asked Dai Takes Eggs. "Get lost if you're going to moan. Snap in the second tape instead of yawning like a catfish."

"What's a catfish?"

"Just do it!"

Again the speakers crackled and spat static and then came the voice of heavy breathing. "General Befehlnotstand, General Befehlnotstand! Thank God you picked up the phone!"

"Good morning, Fischermädchen. Ask one of the Heartless Bodies to bring the little worm to the phone and have him hurt badly that I may hear him squirm. I have been looking forward to this."

"General Befehlnotstand, he failed to turn up. The Heartless Bodies have been to his lodgings. We have had the place turned over. The bird has flown."

"Fischermädchen, I am disappointed in you. I shudder to think what Rausman will have to say about this. I would not wish to be in your shoes at this juncture. I want the contents of his green screen personal information file downloaded through the red channel immediately! I shall have his details on every green screen from Entwürdigung City to Bharatistan. The little fox will not get far."

"General Befehlnotstand, the little fox has formatted the hard disk. All that remains is a foul message suggesting that I perform a lewd act with 'my fish', sir."

"You are loosing your grip, Fischermädchen. It seems you have blown your cover this time. I believe you are loosing the faith the Lowlanders have been painstakingly persuaded to put in you. Perhaps it is something in your voice? What is it about you? You were fully trained and briefed. A waste of time! I hold you personally responsible for this. You have three days to identify the insect's lair and to crush it under your heel. Failure will result in difficulties for you. Do I make myself clear, Fischermädchen?"

"Perfectly, General Befehlnotstand. Firstly, may I exp..."

The customary click closed the line leaving only the phone's tone as a background to Fischermädchen's slow, deliberate swearing in language so exalted and pure that I could scarcely make out any of it.

"You really dropped her in it, didn't you," commented Dai Takes Eggs. "Serves her right, the toffee nosed shrew. Sharp of you to have wiped the disk, Gwern, all credit where it's due."

"I had the network code," I replied. "I'd worked it out previously. All you need is the right key and you can open any door. By the way, how are things down in Lowland at present? Is there much talk of war down there?"

"Are you mad? Talk of war has been banned under Lowland Council rule seven two seven. They don't want to annoy the Exile States now, do they? And all that toilet paper with Befehlnotstand's face on it has been withdrawn too. It looks as if it won't be long before things start to hot up. I mean why else would Befehlnotstand's legions be massing all along the frontiers? 'Manoeuvres' they say officially, do you believe it? And I heard that Rausman himself recently addressed a vast assembly of his slaves as part of the Exile States' forever-triumphant freedom celebrations. Oh, yes, I can see it coming, boy."

"But Lowland is a free country now," said Pilgrim. "They don't have to fight."

"Oh, I see, Pilgrim, of course," replied Dai Takes Eggs. "Lowland is free, how stupid of me. Free to follow in the footsteps of the Exile States and imitate them every step of the way. Free to acquiesce and to bow down low, is that what you mean? Free to agree but not to differ. Yes, you've hit the nail on its head again, Pilgrim, of course they don't have to fight. They can put their hands in the air like last time and let Befehlnotstand line them up against a wall. He doesn't have any use for the people, it's only the land he wants, that was in the papers."

"It won't come to war," said Pilgrim sulkily.

"You'd be shot for saying that in the Exile States," snapped Dai Takes Eggs. "But you'd probably have been shot ages ago for being silly anyway. Put the third tape in the slot and stop acting the goat."

"Click," went the tape and out came Fischermädchen's voice talking our language, her accent creaking like a swollen door. "Well, hello, Scarlet Nightshade, its been a while."

"Fischermädchen? I was about to phone you..."

"Well you didn't, did you? You are a fickle girl. Would you betray me, Scarlet?"

"Gosh, no, Fischermädchen, never! Didn't the report please you? What's wrong?"

"It's you that's wrong, Scarlet Nightshade, you. I am not even sure that I can still depend upon you."

"You can, certainly, yes you can, I wouldn't double cross you Fischermädchen, you know that..."

"Prove it. I want to know about Gwern Excuses. You know him don't you?"

"Hardly. Enough to say 'hello'."

"Enough to say, 'Jest leave me alone...! Jest go. Go to your Caress then, see if she'll take you back.'?"

"How did you know about that?"

"To be dim whited is not a qualification for my job, Scarlet Nightshade, but to know the long and the short of your lies, now that is an important qualification, wouldn't you say so?"

"What do you want of me?"

"I want to know about Gwern Excuses."

"You probably know more than I do already."

"Probably."

"What good am I to you then?"

"You are my eyes and my ears, Scarlet Nightshade. Now open that beak start singing."

"I don't know him that well. If I'd known him better he would never have been able to steal my heart. He took it before I knew it. Then he threw it down and crushed it under his foot."

"He did that, did he, Scarlet?"

"He's in love with Caress, not with me. He's been in love with her, the little bitch, long before he ever pretended to care for me. He never cared for me at all, not even when we lay together at night, his gentle whispers were nothing but corrupted lies. "I don't want to hurt you," he told me, "I don't want to hurt you," and with every word it was like a heel turning in my heart. I didn't know him at all."

"Do you know him now?"

"Perhaps... How should I know? Anyway, that's really all I know to tell you about him."

"Why do you defy me, my pretty? Am I not your friend? Who else has stood up for you? You know you can trust me, Scarlet."

"I know. I'm sorry Fischermädchen. It was Wil Pickled Herring who broke my necklace and made me cry, not Gwern. He wouldn't have done t