They worked without speaking, picking up the planks behind them and extending the walkway in front.
‘Looking on the bright side,’ said Twoflower, breaking the silence, ‘the Emperor said you could start your own University, if you wanted.’
‘No! No! Someone hit me with an iron bar, please!’
‘He said he’s well in favour of education provided no one makes him have one. He’s been making proclamations like mad. The eunuchs have threatened to go on strike.’
Rincewind’s plank dropped on to the mud.
‘What is it that eunuchs do,’ he said, ‘that they stop doing when they go on strike?’
‘Serve food, make the beds, things like that.’
‘Oh.’
‘They run the Forbidden City, really. But the Emperor talked them round to his point of view.’
‘Really?’
‘He said if they didn’t get cracking right now he’d cut off everything else. Um, I think the ground’s firm enough now.’
His own University. That’d make him … Archchancellor. Rincewind the Archchancellor pictured himself visiting Unseen University. He could have a hat with a really big point. He’d be able to be rude to everyone. He’d— He tried to stop himself from thinking like that. It’d all go wrong.
‘Of course,’ said Twoflower, ‘it might be that the bad things have already happened to you. Have you considered that? Perhaps you’re due something nice?’
‘Don’t give me any of that karma stuff,’ said Rincewind. ‘The wheel of fortune has lost a few spokes where I’m concerned.’
‘It’s worth considering, though,’ said Twoflower.
‘What, that the rest of my life will be peaceful and enjoyable? Sorry. No. You wait. When my back’s turned and — bang!’
Twoflower looked around with some interest.
‘I don’t know why you think your life has been so bad,’ he said. ‘We had a lot of fun when we were younger. Hey, do you remember the time when we went over the edge of the world?’
‘Often,’ said Rincewind. ‘Usually around 3 a.m.’
‘And that time we were on a dragon and it disappeared in mid-air?’
‘You know,’ said Rincewind, ‘sometimes a whole hour will go by when I don’t remember that.’
‘And that time we were attacked by those people who wanted to kill us?’
‘Which of those one hundred and forty-nine occasions are you referring to?’
‘Character-building, that sort of thing,’ said Twoflower, happily. ‘Made me what I am today.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Rincewind. It was no effort, talking to Twoflower. The little man’s trusting nature had no concept of sarcasm and a keen ability not to hear things that might upset him. ‘Yes, I can definitely say it was that sort of thing that made me what I am today, too.’
They stepped inside the city. The streets were practically empty. Most people had flocked to the huge square in front of the palace. New Emperors tended towards displays of generosity. Besides, the news had got around that this one was different and was giving away free pigs.
‘I heard him talking about sending envoys to Ankh-Morpork,’ said Twoflower, as they dripped up the street. ‘I expect there’s going to be a bit of a fuss about that.’
‘Was that man Disembowel-Meself-Honourably present at the time?’ said Rincewind.
‘Yes, as a matter of fact.’
‘When you visited Ankh-Morpork, did you ever meet a man called Dibbler?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘If those two ever shake hands I think there might be some sort of explosion.’
‘But you could go back, I’m sure,’ said Twoflower. ‘I mean, your new University will need all sorts of things and, well, I seem to recall that people in Ankh-Morpork were very keen on gold.’
Rincewind gritted his teeth. The image wouldn’t go away — of Archchancellor Rincewind buying the Tower of Art and getting them to number all the stones and send it back to Hunghung, of Archchancellor Rincewind hiring all the faculty as college porters, of Archchancellor Rincewi …
‘No!’
‘Pardon?’
‘Don’t encourage me to think like that! The moment I think that it’s all going to be worthwhile something dreadful will happen!’
There was a movement behind him, and a knife suddenly pressed against his throat.
‘The Great Blob of Swallow’s Vomit?’ said a voice by his ear.
‘There,’ said Rincewind. ‘You see? Run away! Don’t stand there, you bloody idiot! Run!’
Twoflower stared for a moment and then turned and scampered away.
‘Let him go,’ said the voice. ‘He doesn’t matter.’
Hands pulled him into the alley. He had a vague impression of armour, and mud; his captors were skilled in the way of dragging a prisoner so that he had no chance to get a foothold anywhere.
Then he was flung on to the cobbles.
‘He does not look so great to me,’ said an imperious voice. ‘Look up, Great Wizard!’
There was some nervous laughter from the soldiers.
‘You fools!’ raged Lord Hong. ‘He is just a man! Look at him! Does he look so powerful? He is just a man who has found some old trickery! And we will find out how great he is without his arms and legs.’
‘Oh,’ said Rincewind.
Lord Hong leaned down. There was mud on his face and a wild glint in his eyes. ‘We shall see what your barbarian Emperor can do then, won’t we?’ He indicated the sullen group of mud-encrusted soldiers. ‘You know, they half believe you really are a great wizard? That’s superstition, I’m afraid. Very useful most of the time, damn inconvenient on occasion. But when we march you into the square and show them how great you really are, I think your barbarian will not have so very long left. What are these?’
He snatched the gloves off Rincewind’s hand.
‘Toys,’ he said. ‘Made things. The Red Army are just machines, like mills and pumps. There’s no magic there.’
He tossed them aside and nodded at one of the guards.
‘And now,’ said Lord Hong, ‘let us go to the Imperial Square.’
‘How’d you like to be governor of Bhangbhangduc and all these islands around here?’ said Cohen, as the Horde pored over a map of the Empire. ‘You like the seaside, Hamish?’
‘Whut?’
The doors of the Throne Room were flung open. Twoflower scuttled in, trailed by One Big River.
‘Lord Hong’s got Rincewind! He’s going to kill him!’
Cohen looked up.
‘He can wizard himself out of it, can’t he?’
‘No! He hasn’t got the Red Army any more! He’s going to kill him! You’ve got to do something!’
‘Ach, well, you know how it is with wizards,’ said Truckle. ‘There’s too many of ’em as it is—’
‘No.’ Cohen picked up his sword and sighed.
‘Come on,’ he said.
‘But, Cohen—’
‘I said come on. We ain’t like Hong. Rincewind’s a weasel, but he’s our weasel. So are you coming or what?’
Lord Hong and his group of soldiers had almost reached the bottom of the wide steps to the palace when the Horde emerged. The crowd surrounded them, held back by the soldiers.
Lord Hong held Rincewind tightly, a knife at his throat.
‘Ah, Emperor,’ he said, in Ankh-Morporkian. ‘We meet again. Check, I think.’
‘What’s he mean?’ Cohen whispered.
‘He thinks he has you cornered,’ said Mr Saveloy.
‘How’s he know I won’t just let the wizard die?’
‘Psychology of the individual, I’m afraid.’
‘It doesn’t make any sense!’ Cohen shouted. ‘If you kill him, you’ll be dead yourself in seconds. I shall see to it pers’nally!’