'You didn't ought to have stuck your sword out like that, I thought.'
'He's learned an important lesson.'
'It won't do him much good now where he's gone.'
'Whut?' Six Beneficent Winds was half laughing, half shocked. 'But . . . but . . . I've seen these guards fight before!' he said. 'They're invincible!'
'No-one told us.'
'But you beat them all!'
'Yep!'
'And you're just eunuchs!' There was a scrape of steel. Six Beneficent Winds closed his eyes. He could feel metal touching his neck in at least five places. 'There's that word again,' said the voice of Cohen the Barbarian. 'But . . . you're . . . dressed . . . as . . . eunuchs . . .' murmured Six Beneficent Winds, trying not to swallow. Mr Saveloy backed away, chuckling nervously. 'You see,' he said, speaking fast, 'you're too old to be taken for guards and you don't look like bureaucrats, so I thought it would be, er, a very good disguise to—'
'Eunuch?' roared Truckle. 'You mean people've been looking at me and thinking I mince around saying, Helluo, Saltat?' Like many men whose testosterone had always sloshed out of their ears, the Horde had never fine-tuned their approach to the more complex areas of sexuality. A teacher to the core, Mr Saveloy couldn't help correcting them, even at swordpoint. 'That means, “the glutton dances”, not, as you seem to think, “hello, sailor”, which is heus nauta,' he said. 'And eunuchs don't say it. Not as a matter of course. Look, it's an honour to be a eunuch in the Forbidden City. Many of them occupy very exalted positions in—'
'Then prepare yourself for high office, teacher!' Truckle shouted. Cohen knocked the sword out of his hand. 'All right, none of that. I don't like it either,' he said, 'but it's just a disguise. Shouldn't mean anything to a man who once bit a bear's head off, should it?'
'Yeah, but . . . you know . . . it's not . . . I mean, when we went past those young ladies back there they all giggled . . .'
'Maybe later you can find them and make them laugh,' said Cohen. 'But you should've told us, Teach.'
'Sorry.'
'Whut? Whatseesay?'
'He said you're a EUNUCH!' Boy Willie bellowed in Hamish's ear. 'Yep!' said Hamish happily. 'What?'
'That's me! The one an' only!'
'No, he didn't mean—'
'Whut?'
'Oh, never mind. It's all pretty much the same to you, Hamish.' Mr Saveloy surveyed the wrecked gym. 'I wonder what time it is?' he said. 'Ah,' gurgled Six Beneficent Winds, happy to lighten things a little. 'Here, you know, we have an amazing demon-powered device that tells you what the time is even when the sun isn't—'
'Clocks,' said Mr Saveloy. 'We've got them in Ankh-Morpork. Only demons evaporate eventually so now they work by—' He paused. 'Interesting. You don't have a word for it. Er. Shaped metal that does work? Toothed wheels?' The taxman looked frightened. 'Wheels with teeth?'
'What do you call the things that grind corn?'
'Peasants.'
'Yes, but what do they grind corn with?'
'I don't know. Why should I know? Only peasants need to know that.'
'Yes, I suppose that says it all, really,' said Mr Saveloy sadly. 'It's a long way off dawn,' said Truckle. 'Why don't we go and kill everyone in their beds?'
'No, no, no!' said Mr Saveloy. 'I keep telling you, we've got to do it properly.'
'I could show you the treasure house,' said Six Beneficent Winds helpfully.
'Never a good idea to give a monkey the key to a banana plantation,' said Mr Saveloy. 'Can you think of anything else to keep them amused for an hour?' Down in the basement, there was a man who was talking about the government. At the top of his voice. 'You can't fight for a cause! A cause is just a thing!' Then we are fighting for the peasants,' said Butterfly. She'd backed away. Rincewind's anger was coming off him like steam. 'Oh? Have you ever met them?'
'I - have seen them.'
'Oh, good! And what is it you want to achieve?'