Interesting Times (Discworld 17) - Page 78

'No-one has to die,' said Mr Saveloy. 'It's called usurping.'

'That's right,' said Cohen. 'You just say, see here, Gunga Din, you're out on your ear, OK? Piss off to some island somewhere or—'

'Ghenghiz,' said Mr Saveloy gently, 'do you think you could refrain from referring to foreigners in that rather offensive fashion? It's not civilized.' Cohen shrugged. 'You're still going to have big trouble with the guards and things,' said Six Beneficent Winds. 'Maybe not,' said Cohen. 'Tell 'em, Teach.'

'Have you ever seen the, er, former Emperor?' said Mr Saveloy. 'Mr Winds?'

'Of course not. Hardly anyone has seen—' He stopped. 'There you are, then,' said Mr Saveloy. 'Very quick on the uptake, Mr Winds. As befits the Lord High Chief Tax Gatherer.'

'But it won't work because—' Six Beneficent Winds stopped again. Mr Saveloy's words reached his brain. 'Lord High Chief? Me? The black hat with the red ruby button?'

'Yes.'

'And a feather in it, if you like,' said Cohen munificently. The taxman looked in rapt consideration. 'So . . . if there was, say, a mere District Administrator who was incredibly cruel to his staff, particularly to a hard-working deputy, and thoroughly deserving of a good sound thrashing—'

'As the Lord High Chief Tax Gatherer, of course, that would be entirely your affair.' Six Beneficent Winds' grin now threatened to remove the top of his head. 'On the subject of new taxation,' he said, 'I've often had this thought that fresh air is all too readily available at far below the cost of production—'

'We will listen to your ideas with extreme interest,' said Mr Saveloy. 'In the meantime, please arrange breakfast.'

'And have summoned,' said Cohen, 'all those buggers who think they know what the Emperor looks like.' The pursuer was closing.

Rincewind skidded around a corner and there, blocking the passageway, were three guards. These were not dead. They were alive, and they had got swords. Someone cannoned into the back of him, pushed him to the ground, and leapt past. He shut his eyes. There were a couple of thumps, a groan, and then a very strange metallic noise. It was a helmet, spinning round and round on the floor. He was pulled to his feet. 'Are you going to lie around all day?' said Butterfly. 'Come on. They're not far behind!' Rincewind glanced at the recumbent guards, and then loped after the girl. 'How many of them are there?' he managed. 'Seven now. But two of them are limping and one's having trouble breathing. Come on.'

'You hit them?'

'Do you always waste breath like this?'

'Never found anyone who could keep up with me before!' They turned a corner and almost ran into another guard. Butterfly didn't even stop. She took a ladylike step, whirled around on one foot, and kicked the man so hard on his ear that he spun on his own axis and landed on his head. She paused, panted, and tucked a hair back into place. 'We should split up,' she said. 'Oh, no!' said Rincewind. 'I mean, I must protect you!'

'I'll head back to the others. You lead the guards away somewhere—'

'Can you all do that?'

'Of course,' said Butterfly, testily. 'I told you we fought the guards. 'Now, if we split up one of us is bound to escape. The murderers! We were supposed to take the blame for that!'

you?' he said. 'This is Ghenghiz Cohen,' said Mr Saveloy. 'Doer of mighty deeds. Slayer of dragons. Ravager of cities. He once bought an apple.' No-one laughed. Mr Saveloy had found that the Horde had no concept whatsoever of sarcasm. Probably no-one had ever tried it on them. One Big River had been raised to do what he was told. Everyone had told him what to do, all through his life. He fell in behind the man with diamond teeth because he was the sort of man you followed when he said 'follow'.

'But, you know, there are tens of thousands of men who would die rather than betray their Emperor,' whispered Six Beneficent Winds, as they filed through the corridors. 'I hope so.'

'Some of them will be on guard around the For-bidden City. We've avoided them, but they're still there. We'll have to deal with them eventually.'

'Oh, good!' said Cohen. 'Bad,' said Mr Saveloy. 'That business with the ninjas was just high spirits—'

'—high spirits—' murmured Six Beneficent Winds. '—but you don't want a big fight out in the open. It'll get messy.' Cohen walked over to the nearest wall, which had a gorgeous pattern of peacocks, and took out his knife. 'Paper,' he said. 'Bloody paper. Paper walls.' He poked his head through. There was a shrill whimper. 'Oops, sorry, ma'am. Official wall inspection.' He extracted his head, grinning. 'But you can't go through walls!' said Six Beneficent Winds. 'Why not?'

'They're - well, they're the walls. What would happen if everyone walked through walls? What do you think doors are for?'

'I think they're for other people,' said Cohen. 'Which way's that throne room?'

'Whut?'

'This is lateral thinking,' explained Mr Saveloy, as they followed him. 'Ghenghiz is quite good at a certain kind of lateral thinking.'

'What a lateral?'

'Er. It's a kind of muscle, I believe.'

'Thinking with your muscles . . . Yes. I see,' said Six Beneficent Winds. Rincewind sidled into a space between the wall and a statue of a rather jolly dog with its tongue hanging out. 'What now?' said Butterfly. 'How big's the Red Army?'

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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