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isn’t it?’ He wrinkled his nose as if smelling something nasty. ‘You have no rights in this matter. None at all. You, Smell, and this disgusting old man, are mine. I will do with you exactly as I please.’
    â€˜Don’t hurt the b-’ the priest’s protest was cut short by a backhanded blow across the face.
    â€˜You have no idea who I am, have you, Smell? Not the faintest idea.’ He touched the emblem on his breast. ‘Have you ever heard of the Mysteries? Of course you have. Even out here in Feg, this stinking backwater. Well, I am the High-Bailiff of the Fifth Mystery. And as far as you and this old man are concerned, I am the Fifth Mystery. And it is me , and no one else, who sayswhat goes and does not go, where pictures are concerned. Not that I’d grace such ugly scribbles with so noble a title as pictures .’ He prodded Mel’s dropped landscape with the toe of his boot before grinding it underfoot as if it were a verminous insect.
    Mel was scared that at any moment he would wet himself. His scalp hurt terribly where his hair had been yanked out and his arms, held from behind, had gone numb. What had he done wrong?
    At that moment there came a shrill whistle from within the fane.
    â€˜Ah, we’re ready. Bring them both inside,’ announced the High-Bailiff. ‘Now we’ll get some answers. Soon you’ll both be eager to talk.’
    The men dragged their prisoners into the main body of the fane. The pews had been hastily pushed aside except for two, placed close together to form a kind of bed, that occupied the centre of the space. Fa Theum was roughly thrown down on to this on his back and his hands and feet were tied to the legs.
    â€˜Are we ready, Mumchance?’ asked the High-Bailiff.
    In answer, a dwarf, dressed in the same scarlet robes,took a silver whistle attached to a chain around his neck and blew a note. He then selected a couple of evil-looking instruments from a small decorated chest and approached the helpless priest. Fa Theum’s blood-stained cassock was ripped open, baring his pale and skinny torso.
    There came a noise from the doorway. ‘Mel, Fa, what’s going on?’ said Willem, come to search for his truant son. He was followed closely by Mabin. They looked with horror at the scene.
    â€˜Ah, an audience. There’s nothing I like more than an audience,’ said the High-Bailiff. ‘Are you the parents of Smell here? The resemblance is uncanny. There’s something of the festering cesspit about both of you. A family trait, I’ll warrant.’
    â€˜Let go of them. You have no right.’ There was a tremor in Willem’s voice.
    â€˜ No right? On the contrary. I have every right. It’s you who have no right. The only one who has less right than you is Smell here.’ He jerked Mel’s head hard.
    Mabin stifled a sob.
    â€˜W … What are you going to do?’ Willem had difficulty saying the words.
    â€˜What am I going to do? I am going to watch my little man here create his own work of art. Then ….’ He placed a long, gloved finger to his pallid face and rolled his eyes in a showy gesture. ‘… Mmm, let me think. What shall I do? Shall I have this pair of miscreants nailed to a tree and whipped and let it go at that? No, that would hardly fit a crime as serious as the theft of a Pleasure. Shall I hang them? No, not that either. Leniency was never my strong point. I know! ’ He held up his finger, pretending he had just had a brainwave. ‘I’ll send them to the mines! That’s what I’ll do. The old man won’t last long, not in his present state, but Smell here,’ he jerked Mel’s head up by his chin, ‘might last for years before the Coloured Death takes him. Who knows, he might even last long enough to pay for this stolen Pleasure. Not that it will matter to him. Not after a spell on Kig. Maybe I’ll take you as well. And