‘It’s the heroing, see,’ he said. ‘Who’s ever heard of a hero running away? All them kids you was telling us about … you know, the ones who think we’re stories … you reckon they’d believe we ran away? Well, then. No, it’s not part of the whole deal, running away. Let someone else do the running.’
‘Besides,’ said Truckle, ‘where’d we get another chance like this? Six against five armies! That’s bl— that’s fantastic! We’re not talking legends here. I reckon we’ve got a good crack at some mythology as well.’
‘But … you’ll … die.’
‘Oh, that’s part of it, I’ll grant you, that’s part of it. But what a way to go, eh?’
Mr Saveloy looked at them and realized that they were speaking another language in another world. It was one he had no key to, no map for. You could teach them to wear interesting pants and handle money but something in their soul stayed exactly the same.
‘Do teachers go anywhere special when they die?’ said Cohen.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Mr Saveloy gloomily. He wondered for a moment whether there really was a great Free Period in the sky. It didn’t sound very likely. Probably there would be some marking to do.
‘Well, whatever happens, when you’re dead, if you ever feel like a good quaff, you’re welcome to drop in at any time,’ said Cohen. ‘It’s been fun. That’s the important thing. And it’s been an education, hasn’t it, boys?’
There was a general murmur of assent.
‘Amazing, all those long words.’
‘And learnin’ to buy things.’
‘And social intercourse, hur, hur … sorry.’
‘Whut?’
‘Shame it didn’t work out, but I’ve never been one for plans,’ said Cohen.
Mr Saveloy stood up.
‘I’m going to join you,’ he said grimly.
‘What, to fight?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know how to handle a sword?’ said Truckle.
‘Er. No.’
‘Then you’ve wasted all your life.’
Mr Saveloy looked offended at this.
‘I expect I’ll get the hang of it as we go along,’ he said.
‘Get the hang of it? It’s a sword!’
‘Yes, but … when you’re a teacher, you have to pick things up fast.’ Mr Saveloy smiled nervously. ‘I once taught practical alchemy for a whole term when Mr Schism was off sick after blowing himself up, and up until then I’d never seen a crucible.’
‘Here.’ Boy Willie handed the teacher a spare sword. He hefted it.
‘Er. I expect there’s a manual, or something?’
‘Manual? No. You hold the blunt end and poke the other end at people.’
‘Ah? Really? Well, that seems quite straightforward. I thought there was rather more to it than that.’
‘You sure you want to come with us?’ said Cohen.
Mr Saveloy looked firm. ‘Absolutely. I very much doubt if I’ll survive if you lose and … well, it seems that you heroes get a better class of Heaven. I must say I rather suspect you get a better class of life, too. And I really don’t know where teachers go when they’re dead, but I’ve got a horrible suspicion it’ll be full of sports masters.’
‘It’s just that I don’t know if you could really go properly berserk,’ said Cohen. ‘Have you ever had the red mist come down and woke up to find you’d bitten twenty people to death?’
‘I used to be reckoned a pretty ratty man if people made too much noise in class,’ said Mr Saveloy. ‘And something of a dead shot with a piece of chalk, too.’
‘How about you, taxman?’
Six Beneficent Winds backed away hurriedly.
‘I … I think I’m probably more cut out for undermining the system from within,’ he said.
‘Fair enough.’ Cohen looked at the others. ‘I’ve never done this official sort of warring before,’ he said. ‘How’s it supposed to go?’
‘I think you just line up in front of one another and then charge,’ said Mr Saveloy.
‘Seems straightforward enough. All right, let’s go.’
They strode, or in one case wheeled and in another case moved at Mr Saveloy’s gentle trot, down the hall. The taxman trailed after them.
‘Mr Saveloy!’ he shouted. ‘You know what’s going to happen! Have you lost your senses?’
‘Yes,’ said the teacher, ‘but I may have found some better ones.’
He grinned to himself. The whole of his life, so far, had been complicated. There had been timetables and lists and a whole basket of things he must do and things he shouldn’t do, and the life of Mr Saveloy had been this little wriggly thing trying to survive in the middle of it all. But now it had suddenly all become very simple. You held one end and you poked the other into people. A man could live his whole life by a maxim like that. And, afterwards, get a very interesting afterlife—
‘Here, you’ll need this too,’ said Caleb, poking something round at him as they stepped into the grey light. ‘It’s a shield.’
‘Ah. It’s to protect myself, yes?’
‘If you really need to, bite the edge.’
‘Oh, I know about that,’ said Mr Saveloy. ‘That’s when you go berserk, right?’
‘Could be, could be,’ said Caleb. ‘That’s why a lot of fighters do it. But personally I do it ’cos it’s made of chocolate.’
‘Chocolate?’
‘You can never get a proper meal in these battles.’
And this is me, thought Mr Saveloy, marching down the street with heroes. They are the great fi—
‘And when in doubt, take all your clothes off,’ said Caleb.
‘What for?’
‘Sign of a good berserk, taking all your clothes off. Frightens the hell out of the enemy. If anyone starts laughing, stab ’em one.’
There was a movement among the blankets in the wheelchair.
‘Whut?’
‘I said, STAB ’EM ONE, Hamish.’
Hamish waved an arm that looked like bone with skin on it, and apparently far too thin to hold the axe it was in fact holding.
‘That’s right! Right in the nadgers!’
Mr Saveloy nudged Caleb.
‘I ought to be writing this down,’ he said. ‘Where exactly are the nadgers?’
‘Small range of mountains near the Hub.’
‘Fascinating.’
The citizens of Hunghung were ranged along the city walls. It was not every day you saw a fight like this.
Rincewind elbowed and kicked his way through the people until he reached the cadre, who’d managed to occupy a prime position over the main gate.
‘What’re you hanging around here for?’ he said. ‘You could be miles away!’
‘We want to see what happens, of course,’ said Twoflower, his spectacles gleaming.
‘I know what happens! The Horde will be instantly slaughtered!’ said Rincewind. ‘What did you expect to happen?’
‘Ah, but you’re forgetting the invisible vampire ghosts,’ said Twoflower.
Rincewind looked at him.
‘What?’
‘Their secret army. I heard that we’ve got some, too. Should be interesting to watch.’
‘Twoflower, there are no invisible vampire ghosts.’
‘Ah, yes, everyone’s going round denying it,’ said Lotus Blossom. ‘So there must be some truth in it.’
‘But I made it up!’
‘Ah, you may think you made it up,’ said Twoflower. ‘But perhaps you are a pawn of Fate.’
‘Listen, there’s no—’
‘Same old Rincewind,’ said Twoflower, in a jolly way. ‘You always were so pessimistic about everything, but it always worked out all right in the end.’
‘There are no ghosts, there are no magic armies,’ said Rincewind. ‘There’s just—’