Feet of Clay (Discworld 19) - Page 87

It was holding a long, heavy cleaver. Cheery's stare gravitated to this and remained fixed on it in terrified fascination. The other hand grasped a piece of string, on the end of which was a large, hairy and very smelly goat.

'What are you doing, Dorfl?'

The golem nodded towards the goat.

'Feeding the yudasgoat?'

Dorfl nodded again.

'Have you got something to do, Mr Sock?' said Angua.

'No, I've

'You have got something to do, Mr Sock,' said Angua emphatically.

'Ah. Er? Yes. Er? Yes. Okay. I'll just go and see to the offal boilers...'

As the butcher walked away he stopped to wave a finger under the place where Dorfl's nose would be if the golem had had a nose.

Tf you've been causing trouble...' he began.

'I expect those boilers could really do with attention,' said Angua sharply.

He hurried off.

There was silence in the yard, although the sounds of the city drifted in over the walls. From the other side of the slaughterhouse there was the occasional bleat of a worried sheep. Dorfl stood stock-still, holding his cleaver and looking down at the ground.

'Is it a troll made to look like a human?' whispered Cheery. 'Look at those eyesl'

'It's not a troll,' said Angua. 'It's a golem. A man of clay. It's a machine.'

'It looks like a human!'

'That's because it's a machine made for looking like a human.'

She walked around behind the thing. 'I'm going to read your chem, Dorfl,' she said.

The golem let go of the goat and raised the cleaver and brought it down sharply on to a chopping block beside Cheery, making the dwarf leap sideways. Then it pulled around a slate that was slung over its shoulder on a piece of string, unhooked the pencil, and wrote:

YES.

When Angua put her hand up, Cheery realized that there was a thin line across the golem's forehead. To her horror, the entire top of the head flipped up. Angua, quite unperturbed, reached inside. Her hand came out holding a yellowing scroll.

The golem froze. The eyes faded.

Angua unrolled the paper. 'Some kind of holy writing,' she said. 'It always is. Some old dead religion.'

'You've killed it?'

'No. You can't take away what isn't there.' She put the scroll back and closed the head with a click.

The golem came alive again, the glow returning to its eyes.

Cheery had been holding her breath. It came out in a rush. 'What did you do?' she managed.

'Tell her, Dorfl,' said Angua.

The golem's thick fingers were a blur as the pencil scratched across the slate.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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