“Right.” Lavaeolus didn't look round. “O-kay.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let's sort this out, and then we can get an early night. Would you care to accompany me? Your pet might be useful.”
“What are we going to do?” said Rincewind suspiciously. “We're just going to meet some people.” “Is it dangerous?” A stone smashed through the roof of a building nearby. “No, not really,” said Lavaeolus. "Compared to staying here, I mean. And if the rest to
them try to storm the place, you know, in a proper military way - " The hole led into a tunnel. The tunnel, after winding a bit, led to stairs. Lavaeolus
mooched along it, occasionally kicking bits of fallen masonry as if he had a personal grudge against them. “Er,” said Rincewind, “where does this lead?” “Oh, it's just a secret passageway into the centre of this citadel.” “You know, I thought it would be something like that,” said Rincewind. "I've got an
instinct for it, you know. And I expect all the really top Tsorteans will be up there, will they?“ ”I hope so,“ said Lavaeolus, trudging up the steps. ”With lots of guards?“ ”Dozens, I imagine.“ ”Highly trained, too?"
Lavaeolus nodded. “The best.” “And this is where we're going,” said Rincewind, determined to explore the full horror of the plan as one probes the site of a rotting tooth.
“That's right.” “All six of us.” “And your box, of course.” “Oh, yes,” said Rincewind, making a face in the darkness. The sergeant tapped him gently on the shoulder and leaned forward. “Don't you worry about the captain, sir” he said. "He's got the finest military brain on the
continent.“ ”How do you know? Has anyone ever seen it?“ said Rincewind. ”You see, sir, what it is, he likes to get it over with without anyone getting hurt, sir,
especially him. That's why he dreams up things like the horse, sir. And bribing people and that. We got into civvies last night and come in and got drunk in a pub with one of the palace cleaners, see, and found out about this tunnel."
“Yes, but secret passages!” said Rincewind. “There'll be guards and everything at the other end!” “No, sir. They use it to store the cleaning things, sir.” There was a clang in the darkness ahead of them. Lavaeolus had tripped over a mop. “Sergeant?” “Sir?” “Just open the door, will you?” Eric was tugging at Rincewind's robe. “What?” said Rincewind testily. “You know who Lavaeolus is, don't you?” whispered Eric.
“Well -”
“He's Lavaeolus!”
“Get away?” “Don't you know the Classics?” “That isn't one of these horse race we're supposed to remember, is it?” Eric rolled his eyes. "Lavaeolus was responsible for the fall of Tsort, on account of being
o;I shouldn't wander about too much,” said the owner. “They say a civilian let the Ephebians in - not that I've got anything against the Ephebians, a fine body of men,” he added hurriedly, as a knot of soldiery jogged past. “A stranger, they say. That's cheating, using civilians. There's people out looking for him so's they can explain.” He made a chopping motion with his hand.
Rincewind stared at the hand as though hypnotised.
Eric opened his mouth. Eric screeched and clutched at his shins.
“Have they got a description?” Rincewind said.
“Don't think so.”
“Well best of luck to them,” said Rincewind, rather more cheerfully.
“What's up with the lad?”
“Cramp.”
When the man had gone back behind his counter Eric hissed, “You didn't have to kick me!”
“You're quite right. It was an entirely voluntary act on my part.”
A heavy hand dropped on to Rincewind`s shoulder. He looked around and up into the face of an Ephebian centurion. A soldier beside him said: “That's the one, sarge. I'd bet a year's salt.”
“Who'd of thought it?” said the sergeant. He gave Rincewind an evil grin. “Up we come, chummy. The chief would like a word with you.”
Some talk of Alexander and some of Hercules, of Hector and Lysander and such great names as these. In fact, throughout the history of the multiverse people have said nice things about every cauliflower-eared sword-swinger, at least in their vicinity, on the basis that it was a lot safer that way. It's funny how the people have always respected the kind of commander who comes up with strategies like “I want fifty thousand of you chappies to rush at the enemy”, whereas the more thoughtful commanders who say things like “Why don't we build a damn great wooden horse and then nip in at the back date while they're all round the thing waiting for us to come out” are considered only one step above common oiks and not the kind of person you'd lend money to.
This is because most of the first type of commanders are brave men, whereas cowards make far better strategists.
Rincewind was dragged before the Ephebian leaders, who had set up a command post in the city's main square so that they could oversee the storming of the central citadel, which loomed over the city on its vertiginous hill. They were not too close, however, because the defenders were dropping rocks.
They were discussing strategy when Rincewind arrived. The consensus seemed to be