'Cliff and me can't help noticing something.'
'Yes, Mr Glod?'
'You've been carrying a heavy leather bag around, Asphalt.'
'Yes, Mr Glod.'
'It was a bit heavier this morning, I think.'
'Yes, Mr Glod.'
'It's got the money in it, yes?'
'Yes, Mr Glod.'
'How much?'
'Er. Mr Dibbler said I wasn't to worry you with money stuff,' said Asphalt. 'We don't mind,' said Cliff. 'That's right,' said Glod. 'We want to worry.'
'Er.' Asphalt licked his lips. There was something deliberate in Cliff's manner. 'About two thousand dollars, Mr Glod.' The cart bounced on for a while. The landscape had changed a little. There were hills, and the farms were smaller. 'Two thousand dollars,' said Glod. 'Two thousand dollars. Two thousand dollars. Two thousand dollars.'
'Whyd' you keep saying two thousand dollars?' said Cliff.
'I've never had a chance to say two thousand dollars.'
'Just don't say it so loud.'
'TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS!'
'Ssh!' said Asphalt, desperately, as Glod's shout echoed off the hills. 'This is bandit country!' Glod eyed the satchel. 'You're telling me,' he said. 'I don't mean Mr Dibbler!'
'We're on the road between Sto Lat and Quirm,' said Glod patiently. 'This isn't the Ramtops road. This is civilization. They don't rob you on the road in civilization.' He glanced darkly at the satchel again. 'They wait until you've got into the cities. That's why it's called civilization. Hah, can you tell me the last time anyone was ever robbed on this road?'
'Friday, I believe,' said a voice from the rocks. 'Oh, bugg-' The horses reared up and then galloped forward. Asphalt's crack of the whip had been an almost instinctive reaction. They didn't slow down until they were several miles further along the road. 'Just shut up about money, all right?' hissed Asphalt. 'I'm a professional musician,' said Glod. 'Of course I think about money. How far is it to Quirm?'
'A lot less now,' said Asphalt. 'A couple of miles.' And after the next hill the city lay before them, nestling in its bay. There was a cluster of people at the town's gates, which were closed. Afternoon sunlight glittered off helmets. 'What do you call them long sticks with axes on the end?' said Asphalt. 'Pikes,' said Buddy. 'There's certainly a lot of them,' said Glod. 'They can't be for us, can dey?' said Cliff. 'We're only musicians.'
'And I can see some men in long robes and gold chains and things,' said Asphalt. 'Burghers,' said Glod. 'You know that horseman that passed us this morning . . .' said Asphalt. 'I'm thinking that maybe news travels.'
'Yes, but we didn't break up dat theatre,' said Cliff. 'Well, you only gave them six encores,' said Asphalt. 'We didn't do all dat rioting in the streets.'
t. Forget. Yes.'
'So have you had any recent recruits who were a little, shall we say, odd?'
'Might have done,' said the voice slowly. 'Can't remember.' The hatchway slammed shut. Albert hammered on it again. The hatchway opened. 'Yes, what is it?'
'Are you sure you can't remember?'
'Remember what?' Albert took a deep breath. 'I demand to see your commanding officer!' The hatch shut. The hatch opened. 'Sorry. It appears that I am the commanding officer. You're not a D'reg or a Hershebian, are you?'
'Don't you know?'
'I'm . . . pretty sure I must have done. Once. You know how it is . . . head like . . . thing, you know . . . With holes in . . . You drain lettuce in it . . . er . . .' There was the sound of bolts being pulled back, and a wicket door opened in the gateway. The possible officer was a sergeant, in so far as Albert was at all familiar with Klatchian ranks. He had the look about him of someone who, among the things he couldn't remember, would include a good night's sleep. If he could remember to. There were a few other Klatchian soldiers inside the fort, sitting or, just barely, standing. Many were bandaged. And there was a rather greater number of soldiers slumped or lying on the packed sand who'd never need a night's sleep ever again. 'What's been happening here?' said Albert. His tone was so authoritative that the sergeant found himself saluting. 'We were attacked by Dregs, sir,' he said, swaying slightly. 'Hundreds of them! They outnumbered us . . . er . . . what's the number after nine? Got a one in it.'
'Ten.'
'Ten to one, sir.'