Eric

“I expect you know why we’re here, my lady?” he said.

“If you touch any of the children I shall scream,” said Elenor flatly.

Once again Lavaeolus showed that along with his guerrilla abilities was a marked reluctance to waste a prepared speech once he had it all sorted out in his head.

“Fair maiden,” he began. “We have faced many dangers in order to rescue you and take you back to your loved …” His voice faltered. “… ones. Er. This has all gone terribly wrong, hasn’t it?”

“I can’t help it,” said Elenor. “The siege seemed to go on for such a long time and King Mausoleum was very kind and I never liked it much in Ephebe anyway—”

“Where is everyone now? The Tsorteans, I mean. Apart from you.”

“They’re all out on the battlements throwing rocks, if you must know.”

Lavaeolus flung up his hands in desperation.

“Couldn’t you, you know, have slipped us a note or something? Or invited us to one of the christenings?”

“You all seemed to be enjoying yourselves so much,” she said.

Lavaeolus turned and shrugged gloomily. “All right,” he said. “Fine. QED. No problem. I wanted to leave home and spend ten years sitting in a swamp with a bunch of meat-headed morons. It wasn’t as if I had anything important to do back home, just a little kingdom to rule, that sort of thing. O-kay. Well, then. We might as well be off. I’m sure I don’t know how I shall break it to everyone,” he said bitterly, “they were having such fun. They’ll probably have a bloody great banquet and laugh about it and get drunk, it’d be their style.”

He looked at Rincewind and Eric.

“You might as well tell me what happens next,” he said. “I’m sure you know.”

“Um,” said Rincewind.

“The city burns down,” said Eric. “Especially the topless towers. I didn’t get to see them,” he added sulkily.

“Who did it? Their lot or our lot?” said Lavaeolus.

“Your lot, I think,” said Eric.

Lavaeolus sighed. “Sounds like them,” he said. He turned to Elenor. “Our lot — that is, my lot — are going to burn down the city,” he said. “It sounds very heroic. It’s just the kind of thing they go for. It might be a good idea to come with us. Bring the kids. Make it a day out for all the family, why don’t you?”

Eric pulled Rincewind’s ear towards his mouth.

“This is a joke, isn’t it?” he said. “She’s not really the fair Elenor, you’re just having me on?”

“It’s always the same with these hot-blooded types,” said Rincewind. “They definitely go downhill at thirty-five.”

“It’s the pasta that does it,” said the sergeant.

“But I read where she was the most beautiful—”

“Ah, well,” said the sergeant. “If you’re going to go around reading—”

“The thing is,” said Rincewind quickly, “it’s what they call dramatic necessity. No-one’s going to be interested in a war fought over a, a quite pleasant lady, moderately attractive in a good light. Are they?”

Eric was nearly in tears.

“But it said her face launched a thousand ships—”

“That’s what you call metaphor,” said Rincewind.

“Lying,” the sergeant explained, kindly.

“Anyway, you shouldn’t believe everything you read in the Classics,” Rincewind added. “They never check their facts. They’re just out to sell legends.”

Lavaeolus, meanwhile, was deep in argument with Elenor.

“All right, all right,” he said. “Stay here if you like. Why should I care? Come on, you lot. We’re going. What are you doing, Private Archeios?”

“I’m being a horse, sir,” explained the soldier.

“He’s Mr Poo,” said the child, who was wearing Private Archeios’ helmet.

“Well, when you’ve finished being a horse, find us an oil lamp. I caught my knees a right wallop in that tunnel.”

Flames roared over Tsort. The entire hubward sky was red.

Rincewind and Eric watched from a rock down by the beach.

“They’re not topless towers, anyway,” said Eric after a while. “I can see the tops.”

“I think they meant toppleless towers,” Rincewind hazarded, as another one collapsed, red-hot, into the ruins of the city. “And that was wrong, too.”

They watched in silence for a while longer, and then Eric said, “Funny, that. The way you tripped over the Luggage and dropped the lamp and everything.”

“Yes,” said Rincewind shortly.

“Makes you think history is always going to find a way to work itself out.”

“Yes.”

“Good, though, the way your Luggage rescued everyone.”

“Yes.”

“Funny to see all those kids riding on its back.”

“Yes.”

“Everyone seems quite pleased about it.”

The opposing armies were, at any rate. No-one was bothering to ask the civilians, whose views on warfare were never very reliable. Among the soldiery, at least among the soldiery of a certain rank, there was a lot of back-slapping and telling of anecdotes, jovial exchanging of shields and a general consensus that, what with fires and sieges and armadas and wooden horses and everything, it had been a jolly good war. The sound of singing echoed across the wine-dark sea.