He glared at the Luggage. The Luggage looked back.
‘I thought you’d come back,’ said Twoflower.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ said Rincewind.
‘Shall we talk about something else?’
‘Yeah, well, discussing how to get these ropes off would be favourite,’ said Rincewind. He wrenched at the bonds around his wrists.
‘I can’t imagine why you’re so important,’ said Herrena. She sat on a rock opposite them, sword across her knees. Most of the gang laying among the rocks high above, watching the road. Rincewind and Twoflower had been a pathetically easy ambush.
‘Weems told me what your box did to Gancia,’ she added. ‘I can’t say that’s a great loss, but I hope it understands that if it comes within a mile of us I will personally cut both your throats, yes?’
Rincewind nodded violently.
‘Good,’ said Herrena. ‘You’re wanted dead or alive, I’m not really bothered which, but some of the lads might want to have a little discussion with you about those trolls. If the sun hadn’t come up when it did—’
She left the words hanging, and walked away.
‘Well, here’s another fine mess,’ said Rincewind. He had another pull at the ropes that bound him. There was a rock behind him, and if he could bring his wrists up – yes, as he thought, it lacerated him while at the same time eing too blunt to have any effect on the rope.
‘But why us?’ said Twoflower. ‘It’s to do with that star, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know anything about the star,’ said Rincewind. ‘I never even attended astrology lessons at the University!’
‘I expect everything will turn out all right in the end,’ said Twoflower.
Rincewind looked at him. Remarks like that always threw him.
‘Do you really believe that?’ he said. ‘I mean, really?’
‘Well, things generally do work out satisfactorily, when you come to think about it.’
‘If you think the total disruption of my life for the last year is satisfactory then you might be right. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve nearly been killed —’
‘Twenty-seven,’ said Twoflower.
‘What?’
‘Twenty-seven times,’ said Twoflower helpfully. ‘I worked it out. But you never actually have.’
‘What? Worked it out?’ said Rincewind, who was beginning to have the familiar feeling that the conversation had been mugged.
‘No. Been killed. Doesn’t that seem a bit suspicious?’
‘I’ve never objected to it, if that’s what you mean,’ said Rincewind. He glared at his feet. Twoflower was right, of course. The Spell was keeping him alive, it was obvious. No doubt if he jumped over a cliff a passing cloud would cushion his fall.
The trouble with that theory, he decided, was that it only worked if he didn’t believe it was true. The moment he thought he was invulnerable he’d be dead.
So, on the whole it was wisest not to think about it at all.
Anyway, he might be wrong.
The only thing he could be certain of was that he was getting a headache. He hoped that the Spell was somewhere in the area of the headache and really suffering.
When they rode out of the hollow both Rincewind and Twoflower were sharing a horse with one of their captors.
Rincewind perched uncomfortably in front of Weems. who had sprained an ankle and was not in a good mood. Twoflower sat in front of Herrena which, since he was fairly short, meant that at least he kept his ears warm. She rode with a drawn knife and a sharp eye out for any-walking boxes; Herrena hadn’t quite worked out what the Luggage was, but she was bright enough to know that it wouldn’t let Twoflower be killed.
After about ten minutes they saw it in the middle of the road. It’s lid lay open invitingly. It was full of gold.
‘Go round it,’ said Herrena.
‘But —’
‘It’s a trap.’
‘That’s right,’ said Weems, white-faced. ‘You take it from me.’
Reluctantly they reined their horses around the glittering temptation and trotted on along the track. Weems glanced back fearfully, dreading to see the chest coming after him.
What he saw was almost worse. It had gone.
Far off to one side of the path the long grass moved mysteriously and was still.
Rincewind wasn’t much of a wizard and even less of a fighter, but he was an expert at cowardice and he knew fear when he smelt it. He said, quietly, ‘It’ll follow you, you know.’
‘What?’ said Weems, distractedly. He was still peering at the grass.
‘It’s very patient and it never gives up. That’s sapient pearwood you’re dealing with. It’ll let you think it’s forgotten you, then one day you’ll be walking along a dark street and you’ll hear these little footsteps behind you – shlup, shlup, they’ll go, then you’ll start running and they’ll speed up, shlupshlupSHLUP—’
‘Shut up!’ shouted Weems.
‘It’s probably already recognised you, so —’
‘I said shut up!’
Herrena turned around in her saddle and glared at them. Weems scowled and pulled Rincewind’s ear until it was ight in front his mouth, and said hoarsely, I’m afraid of nothing, understand? This wizard stuff, I spit on it.’
‘They all say that until they hear the footsteps,’ said Rincewind. He stopped. A knifepoint was pricking his ribs.
Nothing happened for the rest of the day but, to Rincewind’s satisfaction and Weems’ mounting paranoia, the Luggage showed itself several times. Here it would be perched incongruously on a crag, there it would be half-hidden in a ditch with moss growing over it.
By late afternoon they came to the crest of a hill and looked down on the broad valley of the upper Smarl, the longest river on the Disc. It was already half a mile across, and heavy with the silt that made the lower valley the most fertile area on the continent. A few wisps of early mist wreathed its banks.
‘Shlup,’ said Rincewind. He felt Weems jerk upright in the saddle.
‘Eh?’
‘Just clearing my throat,’ said Rincewind, and grinned. He had put a lot of thought into that grin. It was the sort of grin people use when they stare at your left ear and tell you in an urgent tone of voice that they are being spied on by secret agents from the next galaxy. It was not a grin to inspire confidence. More horrible grins had probably been seen, but only on the sort of grinner that is orange with black stripes, has a long tail and hangs around in jungles looking for victims to grin at.
‘Wipe that off,’ said Herrena, trotting up.
Where the track led down to the river bank there was a crude jetty and a big bronze gong.
‘It’ll summon the ferryman,’ said Herrena. ‘If we cross here we can cut off a big bend in the river. Might even make it to a town tonight.’
Weems looked doubtful. The sun was getting fat and red, and the mists were beginning to thicken.
‘Or maybe you want to spend the night this side of the water?’
Weems picked up the hammer and hit the gong so hard that it spun right around on its hanger and fell off.
They waited in silence. Then with a wet clinking sound a chain sprang out of the water and pulled taut against an iron peg set into the bank. Eventually the slow flat shape of the ferry emerged from the mist, its hooded ferryman heaving on a big wheel set in its centre as he winched his way towards the shore.
The ferry’s flat bottom grated on the gravel, and the hooded figure leaned against the wheel panting.
‘Two at a time,’ it muttered.’ That’sh all. Jusht two, with horshesh.’
Rincewind swallowed, and tried not to look at Twoflower. The man would probably be grinning and mugging like an idiot. He risked a sideways glance.
Twoflower was sitting with his mouth open.
‘You’re not the usual ferryman,’ said Herrena. ‘I’ve been here before, the usual man is a big fellow, sort of —’
‘It’sh hish day off.’
‘Well, okay,’ she said doubtfully. ‘In that case – what’s he laughing at?’
Twoflower’s shoulders were shaking, his face had gone red, and he was emitting muffled snorts. Herrena glared at him, then looked hard at the ferryman.
‘Two of you – grab him!’
There was a pause. Then one of the men said, ‘What, the ferryman?’
‘Yes!’
‘Why?’
Herrena looked blank. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen. It was accepted that when someone yelled something like ‘Get him!’ or ‘Guards!’ people jumped to it, they weren’t supposed to sit around discussing things.
‘Because I said so!’ was the best she could manage. The two men nearest to the bowed figure looked at each ther, shrugged, dismounted, and each took a shoulder. The ferryman was about half their size.
‘Like this?’ said one of them. Twoflower was choking for breath.
‘Now I want to see what he’s got under that robe.’ The two men exchanged glances. ‘I’m not sure that—’ said one.