'Oh well, this is not getting the next edition filled,' said Sacharissa, heading back to her desk.
'I expect it would help if we could print in colour,' said William, when he was left alone with Brother Pin.
'Probably,' said the reverend brother. 'It was a kind of greyish brown.'
William knew then that he was dead. It was only a matter of time.
'You know what colour you're looking for,' he said quietly.
'You just get on with sorting out the words, writer boy,' said Brother Pin, for his ears only. He opened the jacket of his frock coat just enough for William to see the range of cutlery bolstered there, and closed it again. This isn't anything to do with you, okay? Shout out and someone gets killed. Try to be a hero and someone gets killed. Make any kind of sudden move and someone gets killed. In fact, we might as well kill someone anyway and save some time, eh? You know that stuff about the pen being mightier than the sword?'
'Yes,' said William hoarsely.
'Want to try?'
'No.'
William caught sight of Goodmountain, who was staring at him.
'What's that dwarf doing?' said Brother Pin.
'He's setting type, sir,' said William. It was always wise to be polite to edged weapons.
'Tell him to get on with it,' said Pin.
'Er... if you could just get on with it, Mr Goodmountain,' said William, raising his voice over the growls and yelps. 'Everything is fine.'
Goodmountain nodded and turned his back. He held up one hand theatrically and then started to assemble type.
William watched. It was better than semaphore, as the hand dipped from box to box.
Hes [space] a [space]fawe ?
W was in the box next to K...
'Yes indeed,' said William.
Pin glanced at him. 'Yes indeed what?'
'I, er, it was just nerves,' said William. 'I'm always nervous in the presence of swords.'
Pin glanced at the dwarfs. They all had their backs to them.
Goodmountain's hand moved again, flicking letter after letter from its nest.
Armed?[space]coff[space]4[space]yes
'Something wrong with your throat?' said Pin, after William coughed.
'Just nerves again... sir.'
OK[space]will[space]get[space]Otto
'Oh no,' William muttered.
'Where's that dwarf going?' said Pin, his hand reaching into his coat.
'Just into the cellar, sir. To... fetch some ink.'