Jorian raised his eyebrows. "Lady Margalit! One of your kind could hardly be a housemaid or a washerwoman."
"What mean you, my kind? I've known poverty, and I'm not too proud to do what must be done. Besides, much of what I did for Estrildis would elsewhere be housemaid's work."
"I'll ask Goania," said Jorian.
When Lodegar fell sick of the same phthisic, Jorian persuaded him to hire Margalit to take his place in the mill, bagging the flour as it came from the millstones. A few days later, as they returned to the Silver Dragon after work, still patting flour from each other's garments, Goania greeted them.
"I have a post for you, Lady Margalit," she said. "My friend Aeda, wife of Councilor Arvirag, needs a maid-of-all-work, hers having left. What say you?"
"I will certainly try it," said Margalit.
"Good girl!" said Jorian. "I admire anyone willing to turn his hand to what needs doing. I hope we can find you a position which shall make better use of that excellent brain of yours. Meanwhile, let's celebrate with a bottle of Rhuys's best!"
They were halfway through the bottle, and Rhuys had served their dinners, when a man entered the common room and strode up to Jorian. The man, wearing a uniform without a sword, said: "You are Jorian of Ardamai, alias Nikko of Kortoli?"
"Aye," said Jorian. "What about it?"
"Here is a summons to appear before the examining magistrate one hour after sunrise on the morrow."
"Eh? What?" said Jorian. "What have I done?"
"You are the defendant in an action brought by Doctor Abacarus of the Academy, for recovery of a debt."
"That bastard!" muttered Jorian.
"Since you are a foreigner, you must either get a local citizen and property owner to vouch for you, or you must come with me to the jail to assure your appearance tomorrow."
"I will vouch for him," said Goania.
"So? Then kindly sign here, Mistress Goania."
The process server departed, leaving the summons on the table before Jorian. Goania said: "I trust you know, Jorian, that if you lose your case, it's debtor's prison."
"Do they still have that here? When I was King of Xylar, I got them to abolish it, on the ground that a man in jail cannot earn the wherewithal to satisfy his debt."
"It is a pity that you are not the Grand Duke here. But you are not, so govern your acts accordingly."
The examining magistrate was the same Judge Flollo who had incarcerated Jorian and Karadur. He said: "Master Jorian, methinks that, having gotten out of trouble once, you would have sense enough to stay out. But let me hear your stories. You first, Doctor Abacarus."
Abacarus gave a long, voluble speech affirming his claim that Jorian still owed him 750 nobles. Jorian explained why he did not consider himself so obligated.
"Therefore," he said, "I ask that this suit be dismissed with prejudice. In fact, I ought to sue the learned doctor for my first seven hundred and fifty, since his effort was a complete failure."
"Nonsense!" said Abacarus. "I did not guarantee success, and I warned this upstart…"
Both the doctor and Jorian began shouting, until the magistrate banged his gavel and yelled: "Silence, you two, on pain of imprisonment! This is a hard case, the more so since neither of you has a written contract. One would think that men of your age would have sense enough to put such things in writing, with competent legal advice.
"Now, our calendar is crowded. The earliest trial date I can set is— let me see…" He ruffled through documents. " Twill be the fourteenth of the Dragon."
"By Heryx's brazen balls, that's half a year away!" exclaimed Jorian.
Judge Flollo shrugged. "It is the best we can do. Time, as the philosophers at the Academy are wont to say, is incompressible. Of course, if you two should settle out of court, no trial would be needed. Master Jorian, Mistress Goania's avouchment will suffice to leave you at liberty pending the trial. But you understand that, if you fail to appear and we cannot catch you, the penalty will fall upon her."
Jorian and Abacarus exchanged glares. The sorcerer said: "My resources are not yet exhausted, Master Jorian."
"Nor mine," said Jorian.
Two nights later, Jorian had snuffed the candle in the room he shared with Karadur and stretched himself out beneath the blankets, when he became aware of something else in the room. Out of the darkness a luminous form was taking shape. At first it was so faint that he thought it a mere photism—one of the lights one sees with one's eyes closed. It wavered and shimmered with a faint bluish radiance, resembling a cowled figure. Nothing but blackness could be seen beneath the cowl where its face should be. Then came a moaning voice: "Pay your debts! Pay your debts!"
"Karadurl" said Jorian. "Wake up! Do you see what I see?"
"Unh?" The aged Mulvanian sat up and yawned. "Oh, ah, aye, I see it. This is termed a dunning specter, sent by Abacarus to plague us. Tis patent that he is not fain to wait till the month of the Dragon for the decision on his case."
"Pay your debts! Pay your debts!" wailed the figure.
"What should I do about it?" asked Jorian.
"There is naught much that you can do, short of paying Abacarus his claim."
"That I will not do. Even if I wished, I do not have seven hundred and fifty nobles left. What about these specters? What can they do?"
"These entities inhabit the Second Plane. They are easy to invoke and harmless, since they do not achieve substantial materialization on this plane. Whilst not intelligent, they are obedient to the sorcerer's commands, like a well-trained dog. The thing is immaterial, so your sword would pass through it without resistance. A project at the House of Learning in Iraz was to ascertain how, without forming solid vocal organs, these specters could natheless agitate the air of this plane to form articulate sounds—"
"Pay your debts! Pay your debts!"
"Well," said Jorian, " 'tis damned inconvenient. The thing I most look forward to in the world is my first night after Estrildis and I are again united. But imagine how it would be if, just as she and I prepared to enjoy our mutual passion, this thing appeared with its croak!"
"At least," said Karadur, "this entity will assist you to adhere to the continence on which you have virtuously resolved."
"Oh, bugger my continence! Will it go on like this all night?"
"Pay you debts! Pay your debts!" groaned the specter.
"Nay," said Karadur. "After a few hours it will become fatigued and fade away—until the next night."
"Pay your debts! Pay your debts!"
"You are a great bore, spook!" growled Jorian. "Now shut your gob and go away!"
He pulled the covers over his head; but for the next hour or two, moans and wails of "pay your debts!" kept him awake.
The next day, since Lodegar's mill was idle for want of grain, Jorian went to Goania. He said: "I am no lighthearted manslayer, but I have punctured a few knaves in my time. If I could get within a sword's length of Abacams—" He gripped his hilt, secured to the scabbard by peace wires.
"Do not even think of it, boy!" snapped Goania.
Jorian smiled. "I like to think of you as my favorite aunt. And why should I not let some of the stuffing out of this great child's doll?"
"Because the Grand Duke's police keep a sharp eye on you, even if you are not aware thereof. You would only end up on the headsman's block, not to mention the trouble you would cause your friends."
"Well then, have you any sort of counter-sorcery against him?"
She pondered. "Aye, I can call up a similar specter from the Second Plane to harass Abacarus. But think twice! First, 'twill cost you money, albeit I am willing to let that debt ride until you can afford to pay. Secondly, Abacarus is an able wizard. He can throw a protective shield about his abode, like that which the Xylarians put up against my second sight."