"You get him mad, you're going to get somebody killed." I talked fast, and wondered what the hell it was with Tracker and his damned pooch. That mutt went away, Tracker became a moron. With homicidal tendencies.

The sergeant let sense override anger. "You get him under control."

I worked on it. I knew the immediate future boded no good from the attitude of the soldiers, but was not overly worried. Goblin and One-Eye could handle whatever trouble developed. The thing to do now was keep our heads and lives.

I wanted to tend the three injured soldiers, but dared not. Just looking at One-Eye and Goblin would give clues enough for the other side to figure out, eventually, who we were. No sense giving them more. I concentrated on Tracker. Once I got him to focus on me it was no great task to get through, to calm him down, to explain that we were going somewhere with the soldiers.

He said, "They shouldn't ought to do me like that, Croaker." He sounded like a child whose feelings had been hurt. I grimaced. But the Guards did not react to the name.

They surrounded us, all with hands upon weapons, except those trying to get their injured companions to the horse doctor who served as the Guard's physician. Some of them were itching to get even. I worked hard to keep Tracker calm.

The place they took us did not encourage me. It was a sodden cellar beneath the headquarters. It looked like a caricature of a torture chamber. I suspect it was meant to intimidate. Having seen real torture and real torture implements, I recognized half the equipment as prop or unusually antiquated. But there were some serviceable implements, too. I exchanged glances with Goblin and One-Eye.

Tracker said, "I don't like it here. I want to go outside. I want to see Toadkiller Dog."

"Stand easy. We'll be out in a little while."

Goblin grinned his famous grin, though it was a little lopsided. Yes. We would be out soon. Maybe feet first, but out.

Colonel Sweet was there. He did not seem pleased by our reaction to his stage. He said, "I want to talk to you men. You didn't seem eager to chat earlier. Are these surroundings more amenable?"

"Not exactly. They make one wonder, though. Is this the penalty for stepping on the heels of the gentlemen traders of Oar? I didn't realize they had the blessing of the Guard in their monopoly."

"Games. No games, Mr. Candle. Straight answers. Now. Or my men will make your next few hours extremely unpleasant."

"Ask. But I have a bad feeling I don't have the answers you want to hear."

"Then that will be your misfortune."

I glanced at Goblin. He had gone into a sort of trance.