She relented on the matter of a polishing cloth she could use to wrap up her shoes and even made him happy by buying some shoe-keepers filled with pine chips to tuck in the walking ones if they should become wet. Then she went out, her purchases carefully wrapped in plain sacking, and found the Baron speaking to a group of men. A burly, booted fellow who had the arms of a blacksmith held an unshaven man with disheveled hair forward so the Baron could examine him. A few townspeople, both men and women, were watching from a respectful distance. But not so respectful they couldn’t hear what was being said.
“Ah, but what is the evidence?” the Baron asked the pair as Ileth approached.
“He was drunk last week after the collections and was heard to say he’d poison the dogs if he could find some gravesleaf anywhere around here,” the burly fellow said. “It grows out on the river sandbars, you know, sir.”
The Baron repositioned the cat on his lap, looking into its eyes briefly. “Hmmm. Anything other than words? A bloody knife, blood on shoes or clothes, cleaning rags, handprint on the door?”
“Nothing like that. His fire had quite a lot of ashes in it.”
“Hollows, I’m not going to have a man executed and hung up next to the notice-wall because he hasn’t cleaned out his fireplace. The dogs had their throats cut, they weren’t poisoned. Peppertree should buy fiercer dogs, or more alert ones. Vimes, you are free to go. I hope you’ll learn to stop issuing threats, Vimes, and spend your nights more productively from now on. Don’t give in to the temptations of wine and beer. Go to bed and get up with the sun and show a good set of Galantine manners; that’ll keep you out of nine troubles out of ten, I always say.”
“Yes, Baron, thank you, Baron, you’re—” Ileth wasn’t exactly sure what the man said; his Galantine was thick, but it seemed to be a flood of praise and gratitude.
“You should thank Raffleth. He always liked the look of you. Don’t you, old beast?” the Baron said to the cat. “Ah, Ileth, and with our cobbler happier in the sale of some shoes today, I hope.”
Ileth nodded, looking at the men warily.
“Hollows, we’ll talk about this later,” the Baron said as the crowd broke up. Ileth wondered if the trials were carried out so quickly and informally, what the punishments were like. She wasn’t eager to find out.
The Baron’s servant handed her up as the Baron calmed his cat.
“Well, now you have some idea of the heavy cart I pull around here. My tax collector had his dogs murdered two, no, three nights ago now.”
He started to drive and continued.
“My tax collector is the problem, I believe, but it’s hard to find a reliable man for the position. The dogs are supposed to be for his protection, but he likes to frighten people with them. They’ve bitten a child and have killed household animals. Nobody likes a tax collector, but I believe Peppertree goes out of his way to be as unpleasant as possible. The ordinary think just because I’m charged with collecting the money, I get to keep a great whopping share of it. They think it all should be spent on public feast days and the poorhouse and whatnot. I get next to two feathers over nothing for the duty; it goes to the King of course, and out of the two feathers I have to pay Peppertree. And buy him some new dogs now, I suppose. My man who collects my rents is much nicer. He cut off a few fingers when he first took over the job but didn’t add insult to painful injury, and now everyone is prompt and accurate.”
Ileth, glad she was living at the estate rent-free, studied the cat.
“I think Raffleth decided the matter correctly. He felt Vimes is guilty of nothing more than having a bad head for ale. You think I’m mad, I suppose. I’m not, I’m quite sane, I just trust my furred companions more than I do people. Now, if I’d referred the matter to the dog, then you could have called me mad. He’s quite a silly creature and it would be the height of irresponsibility for a man of my significance to ask him about any matter of import.”
With his mind cleared he inquired about her shoes. He commended her for sensible purchases. “I too often buy one or two little extras, even if my wife could produce far superior sachets to keep the shoes fresh. Why not let a hardworking, honest man like our good cobbler be happier with some small increase in his sales. You know, speaking of shoes, in the Aventis they have lovely shoes for dancing with satin ribbons. Have you ever seen satin? It’s too bad I don’t have an excuse to go, haven’t gone anywhere since I took on that dragon for the King. He has freed me of tax for the duration, but given the expense of feeding him and all the scrap iron I have to scrounge up I’m wondering now if our good—my own good King is getting the better deal of it.”
Ileth said she’d seen satin bows on fancy dress, on his own daughters. It was hard to make small talk. This talk of poison had put her in mind of Dun Huss’s warning. But why? The Baron seemed exceptionally correct in his behavior, even solicitous to the point where milk curdled. She couldn’t see him poisoning someone he’d been charged by his King with feeding. And she doubted anyone on his estate would take the step without his explicit approval.
“Oh, you are a bright young thing, aren’t you? I did enjoy your dancing even if it wasn’t to the taste of people of our station. It must make one extraordinarily healthy and vigorous. You could probably have twenty children before your age catches up with you. If only there were a way for you to be courted by a man without having to speak. If you had a rich father, it would be nothing; it could all be done by correspondence. But as soon as you talk, it sets a man thinking that he’ll have to listen to that every morning and night. What I should do, if I were you, is show him your dancing first, then move on to conversation and restrain yourself to polite phrases. He will think you modest, and that may even compensate for the, uh, hmmm, vigor of your dancing. You know, less than two hundred years ago they’d probably have drowned you as an agent of the infernal regions for that stutter. I am glad we live in enlightened times.”
They turned off on a little track that led to some hills in the east. In the distance, she saw the line of mountains, the two volcanoes there steaming. Ileth couldn’t help but wonder what Griff’s presence meant. Maybe it was nothing; he’d gone over to his Galantine relations and the Galantine King was making use of his experience around dragons. He seemed unknown to the Baron. If she’d learned that he visited around the time of the dragoneer’s death she would suspect him. Griff, so far, was the only person she’d met in the Baronies who struck her as a potential murderer.
“Where are we off to next?” Ileth asked, speaking slowly so as not to awaken her stutter and risk a drowning in the nearby Green River.
“Oh, we have some more visitors to the Barony. Not as distinguished as my cousin, and definitely not accepted at Court, but I’m sure you will find them interesting. I’m looking forward to this.”