Pyramids (Discworld 7)

'I don't remember anyone asking for all this garlic bread,' said Xeno.

'Look, some of us are trying to float a philosophical concept here,' said Ibid sarcastically. 'Don't let us interrupt you, will you?'

Someone threw a breadstick at him.

Teppic looked at what was on his fork. Seafood was unknown in the kingdom, and what was on his fork had too many valves and suckers to be reassuring. He lifted a boiled vine leaf with extreme care, and was sure he saw something scuttle behind an olive.

Ah. Something else to remember, then. The Ephebians made wine out of anything they could put in a bucket, and ate anything that couldn't climb out of one.

He pushed the food around on his plate. Some of it pushed back.

And philosophers didn't listen to one another. And they don't stick to the point. This probably is mocracy at work.

A bread roll bounced past him. Oh, and they get over-excited.

He noticed a skinny little man sitting opposite him, chewing primly on some anonymous tentacle. Apart from Pthagonal the geometrician, who was now gloomily calculating the radius of his plate, he was the only person not speaking his mind at the top of his voice. Sometimes he'd make little notes on a piece of parchment and slip it into his toga.

Teppic leaned across. Further down the table Iesope, encouraged by occasional olive stones and bread rolls, started a long fable about a fox, a turkey, a goose and a wolf, who had a wager to see who could stay longest underwater with heavy weights tied to their feet.

'Excuse me,' said Teppic, raising his voice above the din. 'Who are you?'

The little man gave him a shy look. He had extremely large ears. In a certain light, he could have been mistaken for a very thin jug.

'I'm Endos,' he said.

'Why aren't you philosophising?'

Endos sliced a strange mollusc.

'I'm not a philosopher, actually,' he said.

'Or a humorous playwright or something?' said Teppic.

'I'm afraid not. I'm a Listener. Endos the Listener, I'm known as.'

'That's fascinating,' said Teppic automatically. 'What does that involve?'

'Listening.'

'Just listening?'

'That's what they pay me for,' said Endos. 'Sometimes I nod. Or smile. Or nod and smile at the same time. Encouragingly, you know. They like that.'

Teppic felt he was called upon to comment at this point. 'Gosh,' he said.

Endos gave him an encouraging nod, and a smile that suggested that of all the things Endos could be doing in the world right at this minute there was nothing so basically riveting as listening to Teppic. It was something about his ears. They appeared to be a vast aural black hole, begging to be filled up with words. Teppic felt an overpowering urge to tell him all about his life and hopes and dreams...

'I bet,' he said, 'that they pay you an awful lot of money.

Endos gave him a heartening smile.

'Have you listened to Copolymer tell his story lots of times?'

Endos nodded and smiled, although there was a faint trace of pain right behind his eyes.

'I expect,' said Teppic, 'that your ears develop protective rough surfaces after a while?'

Endos nodded. 'Do go on,' he urged.