“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 a 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 Archaios’ 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 the 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 the 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 bothered to ask the civilians, whose views on warfare were never 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 the 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.
“Hark at them,” said Lavaeolus, emerging from the gloom around the beached Ephebian ships. “It’ll be fifteen choruses of ‘The Ball of Philodelphus’ next, you mark my words. Lot of idiots with their brains in their jockstraps.”
He sat down on the rock. “Bastards,” he said, with feeling.
“Do you think Elenor will be able to explain it all to her boyfriend?” said Eric.
“I imagine so,” said Lavaeolus. “They usually can.”
“She did get married. And she’s got lots of children,” said Eric.
Lavaeolus shrugged. “A moment’s wild passion,” he said. He gave Rincewind a sharp look.
“Hey, you, demon,” he said. “I’d like a quiet word, if I may.”
He led Rincewind towards the boats, pacing heavily across the damp sand as if there was a lot on weighing on his mind.
“I’m going home tonight, on the tide,” he said. “No sense in hanging about here, what with the war being over and everything.”
“Good idea.”
“If there’s one thing I hate, it’s sea voyages,” said Lavaeolus. He gave the nearest boat a kick. “It’s all idiots striding around and shouting, you know? Pull this, lower that, avast the other. And I get seasick, too.”
“It’s heights with me,” said Rincewind, sympathetically.
Lavaeolus kicked the boat again, obviously wrestling with some big emotional problem.
“The thing is,” he said, wretchedly. “You wouldn’t happen to know if I get home all right, would you?”
“What?”
“It’s only a few hundred miles, it shouldn’t take too long, should it?” said Lavaeolus, radiating anxiety like a lighthouse.
“Oh.” Rincewind looked at the man’s face. Ten years, he thought. And all kinds of weird stuff with winged wossnames and sea-monsters. On the other hand, would it do him any good to know?
“You get home okay,” he said. “You’re well known for it, in fact. There’s whole legends about you going home.”
“Phew.” Lavaeolus leaned against a hull, took off his helmet and wiped his forehead. “That’s a load off my mind, I’ll tell you. I was afraid the gods might have a grudge against me.”
Rincewind said nothing.
“They get a bit angry if you go around thinking up ideas like wooden horses and tunnels,” said Lavaeolus. “they’re traditionalists, you know. They prefer people just to hack at one another. I thought, you see, that if I could show people how to get what they wanted more easily they’d stop being so bloody stupid.”
From further along the shoreline came the sound of male voices raised in song:
” – vestal virgins, Came down from Heliodeliphilodelphiboschromenos, And when the ball was over, There were – “
“It never works,” said Rincewind.
“It’s got to be worth a try, though. Hasn’t it?”
“Oh, yes.”
Lavaeolus slapped him on the back. “Cheer up,” he said. “Things can only get better.”
They walked out into the dark breakers where Lavaeolus’ ship was riding at anchor, and Rincewind watched him swim out and climb aboard. After a while the oars were shipped, or unshipped, or whatever they called it when they were stuck through the holes in the sides, and the boat moved slowly out into the bay.
A few voices floated back over the surf.
“Point the pointed end that way, sergeant.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
“And don’t shout. Did I tell you to shout? Why do you all have to shout? Now I’m going downstairs for a lie down.”
Rincewind trudged back up the beach. “The trouble is,” he said, “is that things never get better, they just say the same, only more so. But he’s going to have enough to worry about.”
Behind him, Eric blew his nose.
“That was the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said.
From further along the beach the Ephebian and Tsortean armies were still in full voice around their convivial campfires.
” – the village harpy she was there – “
“Come on,” said Rincewind. “Let’s go home.”
“You know the funny thing about his name?” said Eric, as they strolled along the sand.
“No. what do you mean?”
“Lavaeolus means `Rinser of winds`.”
Rincewind looked at him.
“He’s my ancestor?” he said.
“Who knows?” said Eric.
“Oh. Gosh.” Rincewind thought about this. “Well, I whish I’d told him to avoid getting married. Or visiting Ankh-Morpork.”
“It probably isn’t even built yet…”
Rincewind tried snapping his fingers.
This time it worked.
Astfgl sat back. He wondered what did happen to Lavaeolus.