The cur had turned its attention to him, too. Its stout canines indented its black lips and a coarse mane crested its sloping back. Pilgrim disliked and feared its kind, having had several run-ins with free-roaming curs on the terraces of Highwater Reach. Twice, he’d had to use his cane to save himself. They seemed to pick him out, as spotted cats fix on a lame deer in the middle of a herd, and he knew that a bully and blowhard like Noble Seatree would likewise spot any sign of fear and use it against him.

‘It’s makework as far as I’m concerned, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be making sure it’s done correctly, or that you aren’t wasting your time on your dead master’s foolishness,’ the constable told him. ‘Oh yes, lad, I’ve been told all about that. I’ll be paying regular visits to make sure you stay on course, and if I catch you straying I’ll have to improve your memory of what you can and can’t do. Meanwhile, I expect to be compensated for my trouble, on account of your tribe neglecting to send me adequate remuneration. Let’s make a start on that by taking a look at what you brought with you.’

He stepped over to the kitchen table and rummaged through the small store of bottles and cans, and fresh vegetables and fruit, choosing a bunch of green plantains and a bottle of peppercorns, shoving his booty into a capacious inside pocket of his fur coat and saying, ‘I suppose you were given a fund for necessaries.’

‘We were given very little,’ Pilgrim said. ‘And that’s what it’s for – necessaries. Things that we need so I can do my work.’

‘I’ll let that slide this once, but don’t think of backtalking me again,’ Noble Seatree said. ‘Open your treasury and spill it on the table.’

As the constable pawed through the litter of coins and promissory notes, the familiar, unwelcome heat of shame and helplessness suffused Pilgrim’s face. He and Gentle shared a look, and he knew that Gentle felt as he did.

‘I’ll take these,’ Noble Seatree said, pocketing three notes. ‘And I’ll expect the same when I visit you again.’

He stared at Pilgrim and Gentle, smiled when they said nothing.

‘You have your makework,’ he said to Pilgrim, ‘but big lad there doesn’t look like he’s the book-loving kind. There’s plenty of useful work someone like him can do, and if he can’t find any I’ll help him out. Better if he sorts it for himself though, because my help will come at a price. Is everything clear?’

‘As ice,’ Pilgrim said.