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Initially, of course, said Butterfly. The peasants cant even read and write.
I expect they dont even know how to farm properly, said Rincewind, gloomily. Not after doing it for only three or four thousand years.
We certainly believe that there are many improvements that could be made, yes, said Butterfly. If we act collectively.
I bet theyll be really glad when you show them, said Rincewind. He stared glumly at the floor. He quite liked the job of a water buffalo string holder. It sounded nearly as good as the profession of castaway. He longed for the kind of life where you could really concentrate on the squishiness of the mud underfoot, and make up pictures in the clouds; the kind of life where you could let your mind catch up with you and speculate for hours at a time about when your water buffalo was next going to enrich the loam. But it was probably difficult enough as it was without people trying to improve it . . . He wanted to say: how can you be so nice and yet so dumb? The best thing you can do with the peasants is leave them alone. Let them get on with it. When people who can read and write start fighting on behalf of people who cant, you just end up with another kind of stupidity. If you want to help them, build a big library or something somewhere and leave the door open. But this is Hunghung. You cant think like that in Hunghung. This is where people have learned to do what theyre told. The Horde worked that one out. The Empires got something worse than whips all right. Its got obedience. Whips in the soul. They obey anyone who tells them what to do. Freedom just means being told what to do by someone different. Youll all be killed. Im a coward. And even , know more about fights than you do. Ive run away from some really good ones. Oh, lets just get out of here, he said. He gingerly took the sword from a dead guard and held it the right way round on the second attempt. He weighed it for a second, then shook his head and threw it away. The cadre looked a lot happier. But Im not leading you, said Rincewind. Im just showing you the way. And its the way out, do you understand? They stood wearing rather bruised looks, as people do whove been subject to several minutes ranting. No-one spoke, until Twoflower whispered: He often goes on like this, you know. And then he does something very brave. Rincewind snorted. There was another dead guard at the top of the stairs. Sudden death seemed to be catching.
And, leaning against the wall, was a bundle of swords. Tied to it was a scroll. The Great Wizard has shown us the way for only two minutes and already we have extra luck, said Lotus Blossom. Dont touch the swords, said Rincewind. But supposing we see more guards? Should we not resist them with every drop of our lifes blood? said Butterfly. Rincewind looked blank. No. Run away.
Ah, yes, said Twoflower. And live to fight another day. That is an Ankh-Morpork saying. Rincewind had always assumed that the purpose of running away was to be able to run away another day. However, he said, people dont usually find themselves mysteriously let out of prison with a bunch of weapons handily close by and all the guards out of action. Ever thought of that?
And with a map! said Butterfly. Her eyes shone. She flourished the scroll. Its a map of the way out? said Rincewind. No! To the Emperors chambers! Look, it has been marked! Thats what Herb used to talk about sometimes! He must be in the palace! We should assassinate the Emperor!
More luck! said Twoflower. But look, you know, Im sure if we talked to him—
Havent you been listening? We are not going to see the Emperor! hissed Rincewind. Does it occur to you that guards dont stab themselves? Cells dont suddenly become unlocked? You dont find swords lying around so conveniently and you dont, you really dont find maps saying “This Way, Folks”! And anyway, you cant talk to someone whos a plate of prawn crackers short of a Set Meal A for Two!
No, said Butterfly. We must make the most of this opportunity. There will be lots of guards!
Well, Great Wizard, youll have a lot of wishing to do.
You think I can snap my fingers like this, and all the guards would drop dead? Hah! I wish they would!
These two out here have, Lotus Blossom reported, from the entrance to the dungeons. She was already in awe of Rincewind. Now she looked positively terrified. Coincidence!
Lets be serious, said Butterfly. We have a sympathizer in the palace. Perhaps it is someone risking their lives every moment! We know some of the eunuchs are on our side. Theyve got nothing left to lose, I suppose.
You have a better idea, Great Wizard?
Yes. Back into the cells.
What?
This smells wrong. Would you really kill the Emperor? I mean, really? Butterfly hesitated. Weve often talked about it. Two Fire Herb said that if we could assassinate the Emperor we would light the torch of freedom . . .
Yes. Itd be you, burning. Look, get back in the cells. Its the safest place. Ill lock you in and . . . scout.
Thats a very brave suggestion, said Twoflower. And typical of the man, he added proudly. Butterfly gave Rincewind a look hed come to dread. It is a good idea, she said. And I will accompany you.
Oh, but its bound to be . . . very dangerous, said Rincewind quickly. No harm can possibly come to me when Im with the Great Wizard, said Butterfly. Very true. Very true, said Twoflower. No harm ever came to me, I know that.
Besides, his daughter went on, I have the map. And it would be dreadful if you lost your way and accidentally strayed out of the Forbidden City, wouldnt it? Rincewind gave in. It struck him that Twoflowers late wife must have been a remarkably intelligent woman. Oh, all right, he said. But youre not to get in the way. And youre to do what I tell you, OK? Butterfly bowed. Lead on, O Great Wizard, she said. I knew it! said Truckle. Poison!
No, no. You dont eat it. You rub it on your body, said Mr Saveloy. Watch. And you get what we in civilization call dean. Most of the Horde stood waist-deep in the warm water, every man with his hands chastely wrapped around his body. Hamish had refused to relinquish his wheelchair, so only his head was above the surface. Its all prickly, said Cohen. And my skins peeling off and dissolving.
Thats not skin, said Mr Saveloy. Havent any of you seen a bath before?
Oh, I seen one, said Boy Willie. I killed the Mad Bishop of Pseudopolis in one. You get - he furrowed his brow - bubbles and stuff. And fifteen naked maidens.
Whut?
Definitely. Fifteen. Remember it well.
Thats more like it, said Caleb. All weve got to rub is this soap stuff.
The Emperor is ritually bathed by twenty-two bath women, said Six Beneficent Winds. I could go and check with the harem eunuchs and wake them up, if you like. Its probably allowable under Entertaining. The taxman was warming to his new job. Hed worked out that although the Horde, as individuals, had acquired mountains of cash in their careers as barbarian heroes theyd lost almost all of it engaging in the other activities (he mentally catalogued these as Public Relations) necessary to the profession, and therefore were entitled to quite a considerable rebate. The fact that they were registered with no revenue collecting authority anywhere[23] was entirely a secondary point. It was the principle that counted. And the interest too, of course. No, no young women, I insist, said Mr Saveloy. Youre having a bath to get clean. Plenty of time for young women later.
Gotta date when all this is over, said Caleb, a little shyly, thinking wistfully of one of the few women hed ever had a conversation with. Shes got her own farm, she said. I could be all right for a duck.
I bet Teach dont want you to say that, said Boy Willie. I bet hed say you gotta call it a waterfowl.
Huh, huh, hur!
Whut?
Six Beneficent Winds sidled over to the teacher as the Horde experimented with the bath oil, initially by drinking it. Ive worked out what it is youre going to steal, he said. Oh, yes? said Mr Saveloy politely. He was watching Caleb who, having had it brought home to him that he might have been adopting the wrong approach all his life, was trying to cut his nails with his sword. Its the legendary Diamond Coffin of Schz Yu! said Six Beneficent Winds. No. Wrong again.
Oh.
&nbs
p; Out of the baths, gentlemen, said the teacher. I think . . . yes . . . youve mastered commerce, social intercourse—
—hur, hur, hur . . . sorry—
—and the principles of taxation, Mr Saveloy went on. Have we done that? What are they, then? said Cohen. You take away almost all the money that the merchants have got, said Six Beneficent Winds, handing him a towel. Oh, is that it? Ive been doing that for years.
No, youve been taking away all the money, said Mr Saveloy. Thats where you go wrong. You kill too many of them, and the ones you dont kill you leave too poor.
Sounds frightfully good to me, said Truckle, excavating the cretaceous contents of an ear. Poor merchants, rich us.
No, no, no!
No, no, no?
Yes! Thats not civilized!
Its like with sheep, Six Beneficent Winds explained. You dont tear their skin off all in one go, you just shear them every year. The Horde looked blank. Hunter-gatherers, said Mr Saveloy, with a touch of hopelessness. Wrong metaphor.
Its the marvellous Singing Sword of Wong, isnt it? whispered Six Beneficent Winds. Thats what youre going to steal!
No. In fact, “steal” is rather the wrong word. Well, anyway, gentlemen . . . you might not yet be civilized but at least youre nice and clean, and many people think this is identical. Time, I think, for . . . action. The Horde straightened up. This was back in the area they understood. To the Throne Room! said Ghenghiz Cohen. Six Beneficent Winds wasnt that fast on the uptake, but at last he put two and two together. Its the Emperor! he said, and raised his hand to his mouth in horror tinged with evil delight. Youre going to kidnap him! Diamonds glittered when Cohen grinned. There were two dead guards in the corridor leading to the private Imperial apartments. Look, how come you were all taken alive? whispered Rincewind. The guards I saw had big swords. How come youre not dead?
I suppose they planned to torture us, said Butter-fly We did injure ten of them. Oh? Pasted posters on them, did you? Sang revol-utionary songs until they gave in? Listen, someone wanted you alive. The floors sang in the darkness. Every footstep produced a chorus of squeaks and groans, just like the floorboards at the University. But you didnt expect that sort of thing in a nice shiny palace like this. Theyre called nightingale floors, said Butterfly. The carpenters put little metal collars around the nails so that no-one can creep up unawares. Rincewind looked down at the corpses. Neither man had drawn his sword. He leaned his weight on his left foot. The floor squeaked. Then he leaned on his right foot. The floor groaned. This isnt right, then, he whispered. You cant creep up on someone on a floor like this. So someone they knew killed those guards. Lets get out of here . . .
We go on, said Butterfly firmly. Its a trap. Someones using you to do their dirty work. She shrugged. Turn left by the big jade statue.
It was four in the morning, an hour before dawn There were guards in the official staterooms, but not very many. After all, this was well inside the Forbidden City, with its high walls and small gates. It wasnt as though anything was going to happen. It needed a special type of mind to stand guard over some empty rooms all night. One Big River had such a mind, orbiting gently within the otherwise blissful emptiness of his skull. Theyd happily called him One Big River because he was the same size and moved at the same speed as the Hung. Everyone had expected him to become a tsimo wrestler, but hed failed the intelligence test because he hadnt eaten the table. It was impossible for him to get bored. He just didnt have the imagination. But, since the visor of his huge helmet registered a permanent expression of metal rage, hed in any case cultivated the art of going to sleep on his feet. He was dozing happily now, aware only of an occasional squeaking, like that of a very cautious mouse. The helmets visor swung up. A voice said: Would you rather die than betray your Emperor? A second voice said: This is not a trick question. One Big River blinked, and then turned his gaze downwards. An apparition in a squeaky- wheeled wheelchair had a very large sword pointing at exactly that inconvenient place where his upper armour didnt quite meet his lower armour. A third voice said: I should add that the last twenty-nine people who answered wrong are . . . dried shredded fish . . . sorry, dead. A fourth voice said: And were not eunuchs. One Big River rumbled with the effort of thought. I tink I rather live, he said. A man with diamonds where his teeth should have been gave him a comradely pat on the shoulder. Good man, he said. Join the Horde. We could use a man like you. Maybe as a siege weapon.
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