‘Ah,’ said Rincewind, ‘that narrows it down a bit, then. Does this involve a perilous journey into unknown and probably dangerous lands?’
‘It does, as a matter of fact.’
‘Encounters with exotic creatures?’ Rincewind smiled.
‘Could be.’
‘Almost certain death?’
‘Almost certainly.’
Rincewind nodded, and picked up his hat.
‘Well, I wish you every success in your search,’ he said, ‘I’d help you myself, only I’m not going to.’
‘What?’
‘Sorry. I don’t know why, but the prospect of certain death in unknown lands at the claws of exotic monsters isn’t for me. I’ve tried it, and I couldn’t get the hang of it. Each to their own, that’s what I say, and I was cut out for boredom.’ He rammed his hat on his head and stood up a little unsteadily.
He’d reached the foot of the steps leading up into the street when a voice behind him said: ‘A
‘Anyone else?’ she said.
One of the guards raised a crossbow. The Librarian, sitting hunched over his drink, reached out a lazy arm like two broom handles strung with elastic and slapped him backwards. The bolt rebounded from the star on Rincewind’s hat and hit the wall by a respected procurer who was sitting two tables away. His bodyguards threw another knife which just missed a thief across the room, who picked up a bench and hit two guards, who struck out at the nearest drinkers. After that one thing sort of led to another and pretty soon everyone was fighting to get something – either away, out or even.
Rincewind found himself pulled relentlessly behind the bar. The landlord was sitting on his moneybags under the counter with two machetes crossed on his knees, enjoying a quiet drink. Occasionally the sound of breaking furniture would make him wince.
The last thing Rincewind saw before he was dragged away was the Librarian. Despite looking like a hairy rubber sack full of water, the orang-utan had the weight and reach of any man in the room and was currently sitting on a guard’s shoulders and trying, with reasonable success, to unscrew his head.
Of more concern to Rincewind was the fact that he was being dragged upstairs.
‘My dear lady,’ he said desperately. ‘What do you have in mind?’
‘Is there a way on to the roof?’
‘Yes. What’s in this box?’
‘Shhh!’
She halted at a bend in the dingy corridor, reached into a belt pouch and scattered a handful of small metal objects on the floor behind them. Each one was made of four nails welded together so that, however the things fell, one was always pointing upwards.
She looked critically at the nearest doorway.
‘You haven’t got about four feet of cheesewire on you, have you?’ she said wistfully. She’d drawn another throwing knife and was throwing it up and catching it again.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Rincewind weakly.
‘Pity. I’ve run out. Okay, come on.’
‘Why? I haven’t done anything!’
She went to the nearest window, pushed open the shutters and paused with one leg over the sill.
‘Fine,’ she said, over her shoulder. ‘Stay here and explain it to the guards.’
‘Why are they chasing you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh, come on! There must be a reason!’
‘Oh, there’s plenty of reasons. I just don’t know which one. Are you coming?’
Rincewind hesitated. The Patrician’s personal guard was not known for its responsive approach to community policing, preferring to cut bits off instead. Among the things they took a dim view of was, well, basically, people being in the same universe. Running away from them was likely to be a capital offence.
‘I think maybe I’ll come along with you,’ he said gallantly. ‘A girl can come to harm all alone in this city.’
Freezing fog filled the streets of Ankh-Morpork. The flares of street traders made little yellow haloes in the smothering billows.
The girl peered around a corner.
‘We’ve lost them,’ she said. ‘Stop shaking. You’re safe now.’
‘What, you mean I’m all alone with a female homicidal maniac?’ said Rincewind. ‘Fine.’
She relaxed and laughed at him.
‘I was watching you,’ she said. ‘An hour ago you were afraid that your future was going to be dull and uninteresting.’
‘I
‘Not on your life,’ he said.
‘I’m going to take my clothes off.’
Rincewind spun around, his face red. There was a rustling behind him, and a waft of scent. After a while she said, ‘You can look round now.’
He didn’t.
‘You needn’t worry. I’ve put some more on.’
He opened his eyes. The girl was wearing a demure white lace dress with fetchingly puffed sleeves. He opened his mouth. He realised with absolute clarity that up to now the trouble he had been in was simple, modest and nothing he couldn’t talk his way out of given a decent chance or, failing that, a running start. His brain started to send urgent messages to his sprinting muscles, but before they could get through she’d grabbed his arm again.
‘You really shouldn’t be so nervous,’ she said sweetly. ‘Now, let’s have a look at this thing.’
She pulled the lid off the round box in Rincewind’s unprotesting hands, and lifted out the Archchancellor’s hat.