Interesting Times - Terry Pratchett [99]
“I think you just line up in front of one another and then charge,” said Mr. Saveloy.
“Seems straightforward enough. All right, let’s go.”
They strode, or in one case wheeled and in another case moved at Mr. Saveloy’s gentle trot, down the hall. The taxman trailed after them.
“Mr. Saveloy!” he shouted. “You know what’s going to happen! Have you lost your senses?”
“Yes,” said the teacher, “but I may have found some better ones.”
He grinned to himself. The whole of his life, so far, had been complicated. There had been timetables and lists and a whole basket of things he must do and things he shouldn’t do, and the life of Mr. Saveloy had been this little wriggly thing trying to survive in the middle of it all. But now it had suddenly all become very simple. You held one end and you poked the other into people. A man could live his whole life by a maxim like that. And, afterwards, get a very interesting afterlife—
“Here, you’ll need this, too,” said Caleb, poking something round at him as they stepped into the grey light. “It’s a shield.”
“Ah. It’s to protect myself, yes?”
“If you really need to, bite the edge.”
“Oh, I know about that,” said Mr. Saveloy. “That’s when you go berserk, right?”
“Could be, could be,” said Caleb. “That’s why a lot of fighters do it. But personally I do it ’cos it’s made of chocolate.”
“Chocolate?”
“You can never get a proper meal in these battles.”
And this is me, thought Mr. Saveloy, marching down the street with heroes. They are the great fi—
“And when in doubt, take all your clothes off,” said Caleb.
“What for?”
“Sign of a good berserk, taking all your clothes off. Frightens the hell out of the enemy. If anyone starts laughing, stab ’em one.”
There was a movement among the blankets in the wheelchair.
“Whut?”
“I said, STAB ’EM ONE, Hamish.”
Hamish waved an arm that looked like bone with skin on it, and apparently far too thin to hold the axe it was in fact holding.
“That’s right! Right in the nadgers!”
Mr. Saveloy nudged Caleb.
“I ought to be writing this down,” he said. “Where exactly are the nadgers?”
“Small range of mountains near the Hub.”
“Fascinating.”
The citizens of Hunghung were ranged along the city walls. It was not every day you saw a fight like this.
Rincewind elbowed and kicked his way through the people until he reached the cadre, who’d managed to occupy a prime position over the main gate.
“What’re you hanging around here for?” he said. “You could be miles away!”
“We want to see what happens, of course,” said Twoflower, his spectacles gleaming.
“I know what happens! The Horde will be instantly slaughtered!” said Rincewind. “What did you expect to happen?”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting the invisible vampire ghosts,” said Twoflower.
Rincewind looked at him.
“What?”
“Their secret army. I heard that we’ve got some, too. Should be interesting to watch.”
“Twoflower, there are no invisible vampire ghosts.”
“Ah, yes, everyone’s going round denying it,” said Lotus Blossom. “So there must be some truth in it.”
“But I made it up!”
“Ah, you may think you made it up,” said Twoflower. “But perhaps you are a pawn of Fate.”
“Listen, there’s no—”
“Same old Rincewind,” said Twoflower, in a jolly way. “You always were so pessimistic about everything, but it always worked out all right in the end.”
“There are no ghosts, there are no magic armies,” said Rincewind. “There’s just—”
“When seven men go out to fight an army 100,000 times bigger there’s only one way it can end,” said Twoflower.
“Right. I’m glad you see sense.”
“They’ll win,” said Twoflower. “They’ve got to. Otherwise the world’s just not working properly.”
“You look educated,” said Rincewind to Butterfly. “Explain to him why he’s wrong. It’s because of a little thing we have in our country. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it—it’s called mathematics.”
The girl smiled at him.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” said Rincewind flatly. “You’re just like him. What d’you