Текст книги "The Gimlet Eye"

Автор книги: James Roy

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 9 страниц)

‘Or The Gimlet Eye?’ Philmon added.

For a moment Fontagu was completely lost for words. It was something they very rarely saw. ‘ The Gimlet… How would you know about The Gimlet Eye? You have been spying on me!’

Neither Tab nor Philmon felt that they were in a position to disagree. ‘It’s because we worry about you,’ Tab explained.

‘Worry? About me? Why would you worry about me?’

Tab began to count off on her fingers as she spoke. ‘You got ambushed by the Tolrushians, you betrayed Quentaris under so-called torture…’

‘It was torture!’

‘… you smuggled the Equen Queen onto Quentaris…’

‘Not to mention that you stole an icefire gem and uttered a spell that sent Quentaris spinning into one vortex after the next,’ Philmon said.

Fontagu’s eyes flashed indignantly. ‘You have never heard anyone accuse me of that!’ he said defiantly.

‘Only because the one person who saw you do it – me! – has never told any of the people she might have told.’ Tab raised her arms high, pointing to the masts, rigging and great sails overhead. ‘All of this is your doing, Fontagu. All of it! If anyone ever found out, they’d string you up in the Square of the People until the crows had pecked out your eyes, before throwing you to the scavenjaws.’

Fontagu winced. ‘Don’t say that. Please.’

‘All I’m saying is that you haven’t exactly been the perfect citizen up to now, so we worry about what you might get up to next. Or who might catch up with you,’ she added.

Fontagu’s chin was crumpling as he fought back tears. ‘I do appreciate your concern, children, most sincerely I do. I am ever so touched. But you must trust me when I say that everything is under control. And with that said, I must take my leave. I have a great deal of preparation to… to prepare. Yes, that’s right, to prepare. So goodbye now.’

He turned then, and with a clumsy flourish of his cape he strode away. But his stride lacked some of its usual arrogance, as if some of his pride had leaked out of a small rupture in his side.

‘“Trust me”, he says,’ Philmon muttered. ‘I wouldn’t trust that man as far as I could spit.’

‘Did you notice anything missing?’ Tab said.

‘Like what? Tab? Where are you going?’ He jogged after Tab, who had turned and was striding up the hill, back towards the palace.

‘Did you notice anything missing?’ Tab repeated when he’d caught up to her. ‘What was Fontagu carrying when he left the palace?’

‘Um… just his script.’

‘And did he have it just then?’

Philmon frowned as he tried to remember. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘So either he dropped his script, or Red-head took it. And I doubt that he’d drop something so precious. And did you notice how Fontagu managed to avoid telling us how he knew Red-head?’

‘So where are we going now?’

‘We’re going after Red-head, obviously.’

‘What are you going to say to him?’

Tab stopped and regarded Philmon for a long moment. ‘I’m going to ask him why he was so mean to our friend Fontagu,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Honestly, Philmon, you must think that I’m quite the idiot.’

‘I just wondered.’

‘All I’m going to do is follow him.’

‘Can I come?’

‘I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.’

INTENTIONAL TOURISTS

Tab and Philmon ran. Red-head was out of sight, but they were well practised at spotting particular people in a crowd, and before too long they saw him, limping, but limping quickly.

‘I bet he’s going to the palace,’ Philmon said.

‘Of course he is. The only thing is, I didn’t see him there when I was mind-melding with that pigeon.’

‘That doesn’t mean anything. He might have been in another room.’

They followed Red-head at a safe distance, and eventually they saw that Philmon had been right. The man strode confidently – if slightly lop-sidedly – to the guards who stood at the front gate of the palace. He nodded to them in a very familiar manner, before simply strolling in.

‘I knew it!’ said Philmon.

‘Congratulations,’ Tab replied. ‘Come on, follow my lead.’ And without giving Philmon a chance to respond or refuse, she wandered over to one of the guards at the gate.

The soldier regarded them with a wary look. ‘What does you want?’ he asked in a strange, clipped accent.

‘Oh no, we’re perfectly all right,’ said Tab. She looked up at the front gate of the palace and whistled in awe.

The guard shook his head. ‘No, you no all right. You leaving, is what you are.’

‘But we’re tourists,’ Tab replied.

‘You no tourists,’ the guard argued. ‘They no have tourists in Quentaris since before the Spell of the Undoing.’

‘If we weren’t tourists, we’d know that already, wouldn’t we?’ Tab replied.

The guard frowned as he thought this over. It seemed like quite a lot for his brain to process. Then, suddenly, he lowered the tip of his halberd. ‘You must think I a complete eediot,’ he said.

‘Oh no, not at all. We don’t, do we?’ Tab asked Philmon, who simply shook his head. ‘So, you work here, do you?’ she went on.

The guard said nothing. Instead, he patted his halberd.

‘Of course,’ Tab giggled. ‘Silly me! So, you’re a real palace guard! I suppose you’d know everyone here, probably?’

The guard shrugged. ‘Pretty much.’

‘You see, we’re from out of town, like we said…’

‘Tourists,’ Philmon interjected.

‘Yes, and we thought we saw someone we knew.’

‘Really?’ The guard seemed rather disinterested. ‘Who you think you know?’

‘The man with the red hair who came through a couple of minutes ago. Short.’

‘Fat,’ said Philmon.

‘And with a limp.’

‘Hmm,’ the guard replied.

‘What was his name?’ Tab enquired.

‘I can no tell you that.’

‘Was it Asro Mendeley?’ she asked, plucking a random name out of her head.

The guard shook his head. ‘That’s no his name.’

‘But I’m close, right? Asro Melando?’

‘No.’

‘No, no. Astrin Nando?’ Tab clicked her fingers, then thumped her forehead with her fist. ‘Oh, it’s on the tip of my… Argo Nadro -’

‘Kalip Rendana.’

‘Ah!’ said Tab, slapping Philmon on the arm. ‘Of course! Kalip Rendana!’

‘I told you,’ Philmon said. ‘I told you it was Kalip Redondo!’

‘Rendana,’ Tab corrected him. ‘And he’s in charge of the kitchen in the palace, right?’

The guard sniggered. ‘Hey,’ he called to the other guard, who was standing on the opposite side of the wide stairs leading up to the huge main doors of the palace. ‘This lot reckon Rendana work in the kitchen!’

The second guard spluttered with laughter. ‘If he hear you say that he run you through with his leetle knife!’

‘His little knife?’ Tab asked.

‘That’s right. He a friend of Janus.’

Tab snapped her fingers. ‘Of course! Yes, I remember now! Kalip Rendana! Yes, I saw him nod to you, though. Both of you! You know him. You actually know Kalip Rendana?’

‘Sure I do,’ said the first guard. ‘We both do – him and me. Know him for years. We used to work for him, before we come aboard back when Quentaris was over Unja Ballis. He got us this job. Us and plenty our friends working in palace now. This job good job.’

‘Aha!’ Tab nodded. ‘So you came aboard from Unja Ballis! I knew I’d never seen him before.’

The guard frowned. ‘I thought you say you tourists. You not tourists at all! You both from Quentaris.’

Tab bit her bottom lip. ‘Oops. Well thanks, it’s been… Bye!’

And she and Philmon turned and ran.

***

‘Who is it?’ Fontagu called, his voice sounding strained, and muffled through the heavy door.

‘It’s me, Tab.’

‘Can’t you children leave me alone?’

‘It’s just me,’ Tab replied. ‘I need to talk to you.’

‘So you can insult me again?’

‘It’s not like that, Fontagu. Can’t you just let me in?’

She heard him sigh. ‘Hold on.’ A moment later the door rattled and swung open. By the time the gap was wide enough to let Tab see inside, Fontagu had already crossed the room and was sitting at his crowded desk once more, and his quill was scratching away at a sheet of parchment. ‘Close the door behind you,’ she heard him mutter.

Tab did as he said, then stood inside the doorway. Ordinarily she’d have sat herself down without a second thought, but this time she could feel the tension thick in the air between them. ‘Fontagu, I don’t want to fight,’ she said at last.

‘What makes you think that I do?’ he replied, without even glancing up. ‘Look, Tab, unless you’ve got something new to say to me, you should just save your breath and go.’

‘I do have something new to say. I know who the red-headed man is.’

Fontagu still hadn’t looked in her direction, but she saw his pen stop moving. ‘Even after we talked about this, you’re still spying on me?’

‘Fontagu, I told you, it was only because we care about you. We worry about you. Especially when we discover that the man who held you up in the street is actually working for Florian.’

Fontagu’s eyebrows flickered in a tiny frown. ‘What do you know about it?’

‘I know that his name is Kalip Rendana, and he came aboard Quentaris back when we were over Unja Ballis, a couple of months back. And he works for Florian’s man Janus.’

‘Does he indeed?’ said Fontagu, but his gulp gave him away.

‘He does. And he took your play, didn’t he?’

Fontagu finally broke down, dropping his forehead onto his desk and beginning to sob. ‘Yes, he took my play – my only copy. He said there had to be changes made.’

‘What kind of changes?’

‘He wouldn’t say. All he would tell me was that Janus was very keen to see one or two changes made to the original version of The Gimlet Eye.’

‘Which he’s going to make himself?’

‘I think so. But no one was to know that Janus had made the changes. That’s why he sent Rendana after me. The new parts are going to be a birthday surprise or something. It’s all very hush-hush.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Tab said. ‘Why would Janus care so much about some play that he would take the time to make changes himself?’

Fontagu shrugged. He seemed so dejected. ‘I don’t suppose it matters now anyway. It won’t be the same classic story any more.’

‘No, I suppose not,’ replied Tab, who was now deep in thought. ‘But it does seem weird, doesn’t it?’

***

Amelia yawned. ‘I don’t understand why it’s so important,’ she said.

Tab frowned. Perhaps a crowded tavern wasn’t the best place to be discussing the big secrets of Quentaris. She gestured for Amelia to come closer. Then she lowered her voice. ‘What’s important is that Fontagu agreeing to do the play was already dangerous enough. But now this… this person is threatening him. Fontagu thinks it’s all about a birthday surprise, but I don’t believe him. I mean, a knife? No, this Rendana’s definitely threatening him.’

Amelia flipped her table-wiping cloth over her left shoulder and slipped into the seat opposite Tab. Then she leaned forward and took Tab’s hands in hers. ‘You’ve got a very short memory, Tab. Someone is threatening Fontagu – so what? Don’t you remember all the things he’s done?’

‘I know.’

‘He’s got no conscience at all. None! He does whatever he likes, as long as it suits one person – him.’

‘I know, but I think he’s changed, Amelia.’

Amelia didn’t seem convinced. ‘Do you really? I don’t know…’

‘Look, all I know is that Fontagu has been asked to put on a play for Florian -’

‘A mistake,’ said Amelia.

‘True, but even so, he’s going to do it. And now his play’s been stolen.’

‘Don’t you mean borrowed?’

‘I guess so.’

‘Like I said, what does it matter? He’ll get it back. Janus probably just wants to make sure that it’s full of praise for the great and wondrous Florian. He’s being a good subject.’

‘Do you think?’

‘I do. I also think you’ve been spending so much time with your actor friend that you’re becoming as dramatic as he is.’

Tab bit her lip and thought about what Amelia had said. Maybe she was right. Maybe Fontagu was over-reacting, and maybe she was as well. It was quite possible that Rendana was simply the runner for Janus, who was just making sure that the play was perfectly suited to the big occasion of Florian’s birthday. But even thinking this, she still came back to the knife…

‘You’re probably right, Amelia,’ Tab said at last, standing up. ‘I’d better get back to the farm before Bendo notices I’m gone. Again.’

‘Hunker down those shickins properly,’ Amelia warned her. ‘There’s talk of another vortex tonight.’

Tab frowned. ‘Another one? It’s been less than a week since the last one!’

‘I know. Something’s going on.’

‘You can say that again. Where do you hear this stuff, anyway?’

‘Just chat in the tavern, mostly.’

‘You haven’t been heading down into Skulum Gate to get the inside information, have you?’

‘As if I would! But you’d best go. It’ll be getting dark soon, and you’ve got to walk right past Skulum Gate as it is. Then Bendo will be the least of your problems.’

***

Tab got the very strong impression that Bendo would have been a lot angrier with her if he hadn’t been thinking about the approaching vortex. ‘Look over there,’ he said, pointing towards the beetling purple-grey clouds building up to the west. ‘We’ll be there in an hour, maybe less.’ He sighed. ‘I’m so tired of this.’

‘We’ll get the goats in,’ Tab said. ‘It’ll be all right.’ Then she called to Freya, who was sweeping the pavement on the other side of the main courtyard. ‘There’s a vortex coming, Freya. We need to get the goats inside.’

‘And don’t forget to latch the lid of the straw-box,’ Bendo said. ‘I’ll go and make sure that the shickins haven’t laid any eggs yet. I’d hate for the first eggs they give us to be smashed all over the place in a vortex.’

Freya frowned. ‘Eggs?’ she asked Bendo.

‘Yes, eggs.’

‘From the shickins?’

‘Yes, from the shickins!’ he replied impatiently. ‘So many questions, so little work!’

‘But aren’t they roosters, those ones?’ said Freya.

Slowly Bendo turned his eyes towards Tab, who was trying to keep her growing grin under control. ‘Roosters?’

Tab nodded.

‘All of them?’

She nodded again.

‘You knew this?’

‘I suspected,’ she said.

‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’

‘You seemed so… happy together, with the singing, and the patting …’

‘Goats!’ Bendo shouted, his hands shaking, his face flushed. ‘See to the goats, you revolting child! Both of you, before I lose my temper! And tie them up properly this time!’

As they scuttled away to see to the animals, Freya glanced up from under her eyebrows at Tab. ‘ Singing to them? That’s what you told him?’

Tab chuckled. ‘Everyone needs a hobby. Mine is Bendo.’

***

Tucked up safely in her little sleeping-stall, Tab squeezed her eyes tightly closed and entered the mind of Rat.›››Thank you

A moment later she saw the triangle of brightness, and then stronger light as Rat poked its nose out. Stelka was standing at the far side of her cell, holding the bars and looking out into the corridor.

As she usually did, Tab made the rat squeal, and at the shrill sound, Stelka turned around. ‘Tab?’ she asked, wiping her eyes.

With a gentle mental prod, Tab caused the rat to squeal again.

Over her shoulder, Stelka glanced further into the dark of the dungeon, before squatting down. Through Rat’s eyes, Tab saw her bring her face closer. For a moment it felt as if the rat was flinching away and peparing to run.›››Steady

Stelka closed her eyes then, and a moment later Tab felt her consciousness edging in alongside hers in the mind of Rat.›››Is Tab?

›››Yes it is››I have to tell you something, Stelka. I followed Fontagu, like you suggested

›››What did happen?

›››He agreed to do a play. He’s doing The Gimlet Eye

›››Very good story that one good choice

›››They took it away from him. They took his script

›››Who?

›››Do you know someone called Kalip Rendana?

She felt Stelka hesitate, but it wasn’t a hesitation that came of fear or uncertainty. It seemed to come of nothing more than Stelka thinking, turning the name over and over in her mind. Finally she had an answer.›››I not know Kalip Rendana

›››He works for Janus, who works for Florian

A shudder brushed past Tab’s awareness.›››He is bad man

›››Well yes, of course he is. We all hate Florian

Somehow, through her next thought, Tab could feel Stelka’s sudden flare of indignation.›››Not Florian. Janus is bad man

›››He only works for Florian

›››Janus only works for Janus

›››What should I do now?››They took Fontagu’s play

›››Do nothing››Wait and watch. You are magician

›››What’s that got to do with it?

›››Magician knows when to act. Go now. Not mind-talk too much for now

›››Are you all right?

›››Go now. Talk later. And be careful, friend Tab

Tab felt Stelka’s mind tear away like a piece of damp paper, and then she was alone in the mind of Rat.›››Thank you again, little friend

Tab pulled away, and opened her eyes to see the inside of her little bed-stall. She lay back and listened to Freya humming quietly to herself in the next stall. Do nothing, Stelka had said. The former Chief Magician had never tried to hide her dislike of Fontagu, and had often tried to warn Tab that getting too close to him could lead to trouble. So was she now encouraging Tab to sit back and let Fontagu’s nature lead him into the trouble that never seemed that far away?

Tab pursed her lips. How could she double-guess Stelka, who had nothing to gain from standing by and watching Fontagu destroy himself ? She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Tab had very few options anyway, so she would do exactly what Stelka had suggested. Nothing could be achieved by marching into the palace and demanding answers. So she would do nothing, apart from waiting, and watching.

With these thoughts in her mind, and with the vortex-bells ringing high in the rigging, Tab pulled her blanket over herself and picked up her book.

A short time later, without too much fuss, the journey through the vortex had come and gone. It all happened fairly quickly, and was barely even violent enough to make her stop reading. Sometimes going through a vortex led to buildings and walls falling down, and occasionally animals and even people being injured, sometimes even bits of the rigging came down in the streets. A few weeks before an entire spar, as thick as a market lane was wide, had crashed down in the Thieves’ Quarter. Even though many joked that a piece of timber that size was the only thing that could have landed in that part of the city without fear of being stolen, the truth was that a couple of dozen people had been crushed to death. It was almost as if it was a reminder that vortexes weren’t a trivial matter. What was certain was that they were now a regular part of life in Quentaris.

But this one had been relatively gentle, little more than a rumble coming through Tab’s mattress, a couple of minutes of darkness, one or two bricks falling from a wall somewhere nearby, and a sudden pallid brightness which made Tab think of watered-down lightning. It was a relief. A gentler vortex meant less of a clean-up around the farm.

In the street that ran along the other side of the stable wall, Tab could hear excited voices and hurried footsteps. This was as much a part of travelling through a vortex as mixing up mortar for repairing walls. Nor’city Farm was quite close to the edge of the city, and every time Quentaris was taken through into another world, most Quentarans rushed to the edge to look down and see what kind of place they’d been taken to this time.

Quite frankly, Tab couldn’t be bothered. She was tired. Besides, she’d find out the next day, when everyone was talking about the colour of the land, whether it was mountainous or flat, dry or lush, populated or deserted. She’d find out, she’d be interested for a moment, and then she’d go back to not caring that much either way.

So for now, unless Bendo barged into her stall and insisted that she clean up some mess or another, she was going to stay right where she was, and she was going to sleep.

AMELIA HEARS A STORY

It was an empty world below Quentaris. It had been for days, ever since they arrived through the gentle vortex. Day upon day of endless ocean below, and overcast skies above, with a washed-out sun doing its best to cast its weak glow from beyond the thin cloud.

Tab leaned out over the edge of the parapet and looked down. Beside her, Philmon formed a huge blob of saliva between his lips. It grew and grew, and finally he pursed his lips and let it break free. It fell past the city wall, past the jutting rocks and soil where Quentaris had been torn away from its original site, and continued to pick up speed as it plummeted down towards the blue shimmer of the ocean far below. Then, long before it had even passed the bottom of the ‘keel’ of Quentaris, it was lost to their view.

‘You’re disgusting,’ Amelia said, but she giggled as a nearby sightseer tutted his disapproval.

‘It’s not like there’s anything down there for it to land on,’ Philmon replied. ‘It’s just a whole lot of water. Spit plus water equals more water.’

‘So, Philmon, what’s the word from up in the rigging?’ Tab asked. ‘It’s been fifteen days now…’

‘Eighteen,’ Amelia corrected her.

‘Is it that many? So, it’s been eighteen days since we arrived here, and nothing. No landing parties…’

‘There’s nothing to land on,’ Philmon said.

‘So why are we staying here? Couldn’t they call up a new vortex and go somewhere better?’

‘I wouldn’t know. They don’t tell me anything like that. I just work up there,’ Philmon replied.

‘I wasn’t trying to squeeze you for information,’ she said.

He smiled. ‘Yes you were.’

‘All right, I kind of was. But you don’t know anything?’

‘Not a thing.’

‘Maybe we’re staying here. Maybe Florian’s bored with being a pirate,’ Amelia said.

Tab frowned at her. ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘What if someone hears you?’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Well you should care. They’ll chuck you in Skulum Gate with all the others. And me as well.’

‘You should be careful,’ Philmon agreed. He turned and looked at the tired sun, which was trying to shine through, and mostly failing. ‘I think I’m back on shift soon,’ he said. ‘It’s hard to say with that sun. It doesn’t behave like it should. Have you noticed how much shorter the days are?’

‘Maybe that’s why there’s been eighteen of them when I thought there were only fifteen,’ Tab mused.

‘No, that’s because you’re bored,’ Amelia said. ‘Come on, let’s go and see how Fontagu’s going with the play.’

‘Oh, that’s not fair!’ Philmon wailed. ‘I’ve got to go to work!’

‘Well have a great time,’ Tab said. ‘And see if you can find out anything.’

‘I’ll do what I can.’

While Philmon slouched off to work, the girls began the ten minute walk to the New Paragon playhouse. ‘I still don’t know what this stupid play’s about,’ Amelia said. ‘I know nothing about this story.’

‘You’re such a cultured thing, aren’t you?’ Tab replied, deciding not to tell Amelia that she’d slept through most of the one production she’d seen. ‘You don’t know the story of The Gimlet Eye?’

Amelia shrugged. ‘Should I?’

‘Probably.’

‘So, tell me about it. And try to make it interesting.’

‘Well, it’s a bit of an old-fashioned story,’ Tab said.

‘You mean the language?’

‘Not just that. I mean yes, it is written with old-fashioned words, but the story’s pretty old as well. You know, with people mistaking girls for boys and boys for girls and snakes for worms and all that kind of carry-on. I can’t believe people used to fall for that sort of thing!’

‘People haven’t always been as smart as they are now,’ Amelia said.

‘I guess that’s true. Anyway, the story goes a bit like this: there’s this beastie roaming the mountains near a particular village. All the people who live in the village are getting terrified, because this beast – the Gimlet Eye, it’s called – is causing serious havoc. It starts out killing livestock, like horses and mules and sheep and goats and ducks and shickins and all sorts of things.

‘So the little… the commoners put up with this for a while, but eventually they’re starting to get fed up with having to lock all their animals away every night. But they’re not as fed up with the locked-up the animals away as the beastie is, and it starts taking unsuspecting people. Anyone alone in the fields, or in the woods, or sleeping rough, the Gimlet Eye takes them.’

‘Hang on, why’s it called the Gimlet Eye? What does that even mean?’

‘A gimlet is a really sharp little tool, kind of like a spike. It’s a bit like a very small hand-drill, I think.’

Amelia looked confused. ‘And the eye?’

‘I’m getting there,’ Tab said, with a tiny frustrated shake of her head. ‘The Eye kills people by waking them up, or getting their attention, then it takes on the form of a beautiful woman. And when I say beautiful, I mean the most beautiful woman you can imagine.’

Amelia sighed. ‘How did I know this was coming?’ she said, stepping around a dog that was scratching fleas in the middle of the street. ‘There’s always a beautiful woman who turns out to be the monster.’

‘Not always, but in this case, yes,’ Tab said, smiling. ‘So the Gimlet Eye takes on the form of a gorgeous woman, and when it’s got the attention of the man in question, it holds his attention, and of course he can’t move because he’s absolutely transfixed by its beauty. And while he’s transfixed, it gazes into his eyes, and cooks his brain.’

‘Through the eyes?’ Amelia asked breathlessly.

‘Exactly, through the eyes. And when the victim goes into this state of… of nothingness, the monster moves in and ung! – the man’s dead. One bite, there goes the head, chomp chomp chomp.’

‘Well, it sounds like a great story so far. A really fun play to take the whole family to.’

‘Oh yes, absolutely!’ Tab said with a laugh.

A seller from the nearby markets had just slouched by with his high-laden mule. ‘Hang on,’ Amelia said, ‘you just told me that this Gimlet Eye thing turns into a beautiful woman, right? So how does it transfigure -’

‘Transfix.’

‘Sorry, how does it transfix animals? Does it take the form of an especially lovely lady-goat or lady-donkey?’

‘No, I think for the animals it just goes ung! To be honest, the original text doesn’t really go into its methods of attracting livestock, Amelia.’

‘Sorry. I just thought it seemed like quite a major flaw in the story.’

Tab frowned at her. ‘And the fact that this creature can simmer your brains with a stare didn’t make you stop and think? Come on, Amelia, these old legends don’t care about that kind of thing. You shouldn’t get so technical.’

‘Very well, but there is one more thing,’ Amelia went on. ‘If this monster thing likes to turn itself into a gorgeous woman to lure its prey, who are always men, why don’t they just send the womenfolk of the village out to kill it?’

Tab stopped walking for a moment and stared at her. ‘I don’t know, all right? They just don’t! Should we carry on with the story?’

Amlia shrugged. ‘Sure, if you think it’s worth it.’

‘ Thank you. So, they decide to hunt this thing down, and there’s this one man in the village – a carpenter called Robar, but he’s quite poor, and not at all brave. He’s also lame, and has to use a stick when he walks, and he barely makes enough money to support himself, his wife and his little dog Fargus.’

‘Why doesn’t his wife get a job?’ Amelia asked.

Tab took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know, Amelia. She’s got no arms.’

Amelia’s eyes were suddenly wide. ‘Really? She’s got no arms?’

‘No! No, of course she has arms – I made that bit up. I don’t know why she doesn’t work, but she doesn’t. And neither does he, really, as I said, because he’s lame. And to make matters worse, he’s blind in one eye. He’s a bit of a mess, truth be told.’

‘Sad.’

‘It is.’

‘Hard, being a carpenter with only… Sorry. Continue.’

‘Thank you. So anyway, when the villagers decide that they’re going to hunt down this Gimlet Eye beastie, Robar says he wants to go along.’

‘With his walking stick?’

‘Exactly. And with his one good eye. And of course everyone in the village thinks that the very idea that he should go along on the hunt is totally hilarious, including his wife.’

‘Now that’s not very kind.’

‘Oh, his wife’s the worst of the lot! Her name is Sarad, and as well as not helping out with the income, she’s a first-rate… well, let’s just say that she’s not very nice. And she’s always ridiculing Robar, and saying that she wishes she’d married someone brave and strong like Darmas Girth, the local hunter, who thinks that he’s the big man in the village. Because the thing is, she’s actually quite in love with him.

‘Then Darmas Girth leads the hunting party out into the dark woods – without Robar – and they search for days, but can’t find the Eye. But one night, when they’re about to give up the search, the hunting party is sleeping out in the woods, near a creek of some kind, and Darmas Girth hears the sound of singing, and he wakes up to see a beautiful maiden bathing in the moonlight, singing softly to herself.’

‘Oh dear,’ Amelia sighed. ‘She’s naked, isn’t she?’

Tab smiled. ‘I’m afraid so.’

Amelia chuckled. ‘Men,’ she said.

‘It’s a fable, Amelia. So of course Darmas Girth can’t look away, he’s so captivated by her beauty, and he gets up from his place beside the fire and goes over there, and the beautiful woman turns around and yes, it’s the beastie, and it cooks his brain and eats his head.’

‘Nice,’ said Amelia. ‘Isn’t it? So all the other men wake up and hear this commotion, and luckily the Gimlet Eye is too busy eating Darmas Girth’s head to bother looking like a lovely woman any more, so they see it in all its horrible awfulness.’

‘Which is what? What’s it look like?’

Tab shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. It’s just… horrible.’

‘And awful?’

‘Yes, very. So the men all run away and go back to the village, and although they’re upset that Darmas Girth is dead – but only a bit upset, because even though he was strong and brave, he was also a bit of a bully – they’re more disappointed that they haven’t been able to kill the Gimlet Eye as they set out to do.’

‘Which means they’re going to have to keep locking their animals up at night.’

‘That’s right. But do you know who’s most upset about Darmas Girth getting his head eaten? Sarad, Robar’s wife. You see, she was secretly in love with him.’

‘It wasn’t that much of a secret,’ Amelia said. ‘You told me that just a minute ago.’

‘Well anyway, it’s a secret to everyone else, including Robar. And when he finds out that his wife is so grief-stricken at the news of Darmas Girth’s death, he decides to do something.’

‘Let me guess – he decides to go out and hunt the Gimlet Eye himself.’

‘Yes! Exactly!’ Tab replied. ‘How did you know?’