“We felt you coming all the way up the track,” said the elf. “The brave girl off to rescue her lover! Oh, the romance! Take her.”
A shadow rose up behind the two armed elves, took a head in either hand, and banged them together.
The shadow stepped forward over their bodies and, as Lankin turned, caught it with one roundarm punch that picked it up and slammed it into a tree.
Magrat drew her sword.
Whatever this was, it looked worse than elves. It was muddy and hairy and almost troll-like in its build, and it reached out for the bridle with an arm that seemed to extend for ever. She raised the sword-
“Oook?”
“Put the sword down, please, miss!”
The voice came from somewhere behind her, but it sounded human and worried. Elves never sounded worried.
“Who are you?” she said, without turning around. The monster in front of her gave her a big, yellow-toothed grin.
“Um, I'm Ponder Stibbons. A wizard. And he's a wizard, too.”
“He's got no clothes on!”
“I could get him to have a bath, if you like,” said Ponder, slightly hysterically. “He always puts on an old green dressing gown when he's had a bath.”
Magrat relaxed a bit. No one who sounded like that could be much of a threat, except to themselves.
“Whose side are you on, Mr. Wizard?”
“How many are there?”
“Oook?”
“When I get off this horse,” said Magrat, “it'll bolt. So can you ask your . . . friend to let go of the bridle? He'll be hurt.”
“Oook?”
“Um. Probably not.”
Magrat slid off. The horse, relieved of the presence of iron, bolted. For about two yards.
“Oook.”
The horse was struggling to get back on its feet.
Magrat blinked.
“Um, he's just a bit annoyed at the moment,” said Ponder. “One of the . . . elves . . . shot him with an arrow.”
“But they do that to control people!”
“Um. He's not a person.”
“Oook!”
“Genetically, I mean.”
Magrat had met wizards before. Occasionally one visited Lancre, although they didn't stay very long. There was something about the presence of Granny Weatherwax that made them move on.
They didn't look like Ponder Stibbons. He'd lost most of his robe and, of his hat, only the brim remained. Most of his face was covered in mud, and there was a multicoloured bruise over one eye.