Nutt immediately hunched and stared at his feet in their clumsy shoes. 'I am sorry if I have transgressed in any way. I was only seeking worth.'
'Worth?' said Ponder, looking at Trev for some kind of map of this new territory.
'That's how he talks, that's all,' said Trev. 'He 'asn't done anythin' wrong, so why shout at him like that? They were some bloody good ideas! You shouldn't pick on 'im just 'cos he's small and talks posh.'
Nutt seemed noticeably taller a little while ago, Ponder thought. Is he really just hunched up? 'I wasn't exactly shouting at him,' he said. 'I just wondered what he's doing dribbling candles! I mean, I know that's what he's doing, but why?'
'Ah, you have to have dribbled candles, sir,' said Bledlow Nobbs (no relation), 'and to my mind, the dribbling has been particularly fine just lately. Often, when I'm walking the corridors of a night, I think to myself - '
'Good heavens, man, he's erudite! He radiates learning! He's a polymath!' said Ponder.
'Are you saying he's too smart to be a candle dribbler?' said the bledlow, a militant look in his eye. 'You wouldn't want a stupid dribbler, would you? You'd get, like, manky dribbles all over the place.'
'I simply meant that - '
'... and blobs,' said the bledlow firmly.
'But you must admit that it is strange that - '
Probably everyone wants him dead.
Ponder stopped as the chasm of memory opened. 'That makes no sense. It can't be true!'
'Sir?'
He realized that all the footballers were staring at him. Ridcully had refused to say any more, and in Ponder's crowded mind he'd settled for believing that Nutt was on the run in some way. It was not unknown. Occasionally a novice wizard working in a small town might find it a good idea to hurry back for a swift refresher course in the safety of the university's hospitable stones until his little mistake had been rectified/forgotten/erased/caught and bottled. There had always been others given sanctuary for mysterious reasons. The politics of wizardry were either very simple, and resolved by someone ceasing to breathe, or as complex as one ball of yarn in a room with three bright-eyed little kittens.
But Nutt... What crime could he have done? And then you had to factor in that it was Ridcully who had allowed him to come here and indeed had put Ponder in this position. The sensible thing, therefore, was to¨Cjust get on with it.
'I think Mister Nutt has some very good ideas,' he said carefully, 'and I think he should continue. Do carry on, Mister Nutt.'
Watching Nutt look up was like watching the sun rise, but a hesitant sun afraid that any moment the gods might slap it back down into the night, and hungry for reassurance that this would not be so.
'I am worthy?'
'Well, er... ' Ponder began, and saw Trev nodding frantically.
'Well, er, yes, it would seem so, Mister Nutt. I'm amazed at your insight in so short a time.'
'I have a talent for pattern recognition in developing situations.'
'Really? Oh. Good. Carry on, then.'
'Excuse me, I have a question, if you would be so good?'
Looks like a bag of second-hand clothes, talks like a retired theologian, Ponder thought. 'Ask away, Mister Nutt.'
'Can I carry on with the dribbling?'
'What? Do you want to?'
'Yes, thank you. I enjoy it and it does not take me long.'
Ponder glanced at Trev, who shrugged, made a face and nodded.
'But I have a favour to ask,' Nutt went on.
'I rather expected you would,' said Ponder, 'but I'm sorry to say that the budget this term means - '