most in need of a scribe’s assistance; accordingly Melilot maintained a squad of
small boys with peculiarly sweet and piercing voices, who paraded up and down
the nearby streets advertising his service by shouting, wheedling, and sometimes
begging. It was a tiring occupation, and the children frequently grew hoarse.
Thrice a day, therefore, someone was commanded to deliver them a nourishing
snack of bread and cheese and a drink made of honey, water, a little wine or
strong ale, and assorted spices. Since her engagement, Jarveena had been least
often involved in other duties when the time for this one arrived. Hence she was
on the street, distributing Melilot’s bounty, when an officer whom she knew by
name and sight turned up, acting in a most peculiar manner. He was Captain Aye
Gophlan, from the guardpost at the corner of Processional Way.
He scarcely noticed her as he went by, but that was less than surprising. She
looked very much like a boy herself – more so, if anything, than the chubby
cheeked blond urchin she was issuing rations to. When Melilot took her on she
had been in rags, and he had insisted on buying her new clothes of which,
inevitably, the price would be docked from her miniscule commission on the work
she did. She didn’t care. She only insisted in turn that she be allowed to
choose her garb: a short-sleeved leather jerkin cross-laced up the front;
breeches to mid-calf; boots to tuck the breeches into, a baldric on which to
hang her scribe’s compendium with its reed-pens and ink-block and water-pot and