From the mass of dead foliage in one of the carts, a small creature made of nothing but red tentacles emerged and dropped to the floor. Then it rose up, tilted forward and began to roll, its tentacles at the rear pushing off the ground to becoming soft and sinuous as they folded over the creature's top, before reaching forward and becoming rigid once again. It made surprisingly fast progress across the terrace, passing between two of the round hatches, and then into the shady cave beneath the water tower. It entered the pool and swam sinuously to the Pit-master, then climbed up its bulbous lower body. When it reached the first furrow at its mid-section, it merged with the mass of red feelers there, and Maddock wondered if all those red tentacles were just more of the same creatures or if the creature was just a part of the Pit-master.

After only a few seconds the creature, or at least one looking identical, emerged, sliding over the Pit-master's bulging skin to splash into the pond. As it pulled itself out of the pool's far side, a second red tentacled creature emerged from another of the waiting Growers' baskets to make its way across the terrace. As they passed each other they stopped briefly and entwined tentacles, so it looked like they had suddenly become one writhing creature, before they disentangled themselves and went on their ways. Meanwhile, the Pit-master suddenly moved. It extended one long jointed arm, seized the handle of one of the round hatches in its claw like fingers, and pulled it open.

Sofree rose slowly to its feet.

"We go now," said the Mowmok. "We come back. Pits one and two. Wait there."

Maddock picked up the handles of his cart, but continued to watch the scene around the bridge. The Grower from whose cart the first creature had emerged took up its handles and hooked them over its wide shoulders, but it did not move until Sofree had arrived back at the group. The red creature clambered fluidly up one of its thick legs, and then to its head, where it entwined itself in the fine feelers along its front. Sofree then raised its thicker feelers and began its tapping and clicking conversation, and the mowmok began whistling in its own high pitched tongue. A second mowmok, in a strange guttural snorting voice, addressed the short squat Grower that stood ready with its cart. The Grower lumbered forward towards the hatch the Pit-master had opened.

Meanwhile, another tentacled creature emerged from the Pit-master's pool, and another hatch was pulled open.

"How are you settling in at the Enclosures?" said a voice from somewhere above Maddock's shoulder.

Maddock jumped and looked up into the dark thin face of Micreech the Grower Envoy, who was standing silently behind him.

"Okay," said Maddock. "How did you know..?"

"News travels quickly in the Gardens. How are your brothers?"

Maddock had always found talking to the old Grower odd. He seemed to flit from one topic to another like a jumping jaik in a patch of flower grass.

"They're still with the army. In the North."

"Yes. Such a shame. And a waste. Will you give Yohef my regards when you see him?"

"Of course..."

"And remind him there is still a position among the Growers if he wants it."

Maddock frowned. His eldest brother had never said anything about being offered a place with the Growers.

"I'll tell him."

"Good."

It was also hard to tell, either from the tone of Micreech's voice, or by looking into the deep skull like sockets of his eyes, what emotions were going on behind his rough creviced face.

The old Grower pulled the tattered cloak he always wore tighter about his body.

Maddock turned his attention back to the activity around the water tower, where things seemed to have started moving very quickly. The Grower with the cart of foliage had emptied its contents into the open hatch and was trundling back towards the bridge. More of the small tentacled creatures were now rolling back and forth between the waiting Growers and the Pit-master, in its cave beneath the water tower. The Pit-master closed the hatch and withdrew its long limb, then reached up with it into the tangle of pipes above, where it grasped a large valve wheel and turned it. The sound of rushing water echoed dimly from beneath the recently closed hatch.

"Have you seen the Gardens before?" asked Micreech.

"No. This is my first time up here properly."

"Well you must come and see them. Not now, of course. After the rains. Then there will be something to see."

"I will," said Maddock and continued watching the Growers around the pits. One of the red tentacled creatures was at last rolling towards him. When it reached his cart, it hauled itself up and disappeared instantly beneath the layers of dung. Maddock wrinkled his nose.

"Micreech?" he said, turning to look up, but the Grower had gone, departing as swiftly and silently as he had arrived.

After a few minutes, the tentacled creature finished its inspection of his cart and dropped back to the ground, stinking dung smeared on its body and clinging to its covering of fine hairs. As he watched it roll away, Sofree clomped back over towards him.

"Pit one or two!" called the mowmok querulously from its perch high on its head. "You deaf, new boy?"

Maddock picked up the handles of his cart and pushed it towards the two pits.

"What did Miceciteel-kil-ttreech want?" said the mowmok as Sofree followed behind him.

"Who?"

"Miceciteel-kil-ttreech. Envoy Miceciteel-kil-ttreech."

"Oh, Micreech?"

"That the feller. What did he want?"

"Just saying hello, I think. He invited me to look at the gardens. After the rains."

"Ah, then you must come. When the rains have come and gone, I will arrange a guide."

"Thank you, but I probably won't have time."

"Don't be dense like madriel dung. There is always time in the gardens. Master Dramut is reasonable man, and there is often a queue for pits. As you see. But not now for you."

As he spoke, the Pit-master reached out with one of its long prehensile limbs and pulled open the hatch to pit two. Maddock picked up the handles of his cart.

"Wait for it!" chided the mowmok.

The red tentacled creature, clean from its journey through the pond beneath the water tower, had returned to crawl up and entangle itself in Sofree's feelers. There followed another tapped and clicked conversation, before the mowmok called.

"Pit two, new boy!"

Maddock wheeled his cart forward to the open hatch, where a noisome stench drifted out and made the air about the mouth of the pit seem even warmer. He tipped the contents of his cart and it slumped into the darkness with a distant echoing splash. The Pit-master slammed the hatch closed, swiftly cutting off its rank stink.

"Off you go then," said the mowmok. "Plenty more dung to collect, I expect."

Maddock wheeled his cart around and stopped in front of Sofree.

"Can I ask a question?" he said.

"You just did," said the mowmok and gave a high pitched, ululating shriek of amusement.

"Very funny," said Maddock. "Can I ask another question?"

"Again, you just did. You're lucky I'm no question djinn or you would only have one left."

"What?"

"Never mind," said the mowmok. "Ask your question."

"Melbrai, who looks after the compost heap at the farm, says you can't make compost out of madriel dung because it doesn't rot proper. How come you can do it?"

"It just case of putting in right ingredients. Yotatil root, neep bugs, jordan stone and such. Pit-master always knows what is needed. Pit-master can make compost out of anything. Even new boy Field-hands, so you had better not linger too long."

"Fine," said Maddock, and he wheeled his cart around Sofree, towards the krodillis draped colonnade. He scowled at the mowmok's bossiness, but in truth his visit to the compost-pits had cheered him up a little since his fight with the idiot squire. It seemed there was more to see at the fortress besides madriel dung, and he started to look forward to taking up Micreech's offer of a look around the gardens. After the rains, of course, and they were still weeks away. Plenty of time until then to impress Master Dramut with his ability to shovel dung.