Eric (Discworld 9)

effect. The man just nodded. “Oh,” he said, and then he said, “Did we win?” “Yes.” “Oh. I suppose you can't remember the results of any horse races?” said the man, without

much hope. “No.” “I thought you probably wouldn't. why did you open the gate for us?” It occurred to Rincewind that saying it was because he had always been a firm admirer

of the Ephebian political position would not, strangely enough, be the right thing to do. He decided to try the truth again. It was a novel approach and worth experimenting with. “I was looking for a way out,” he said.

“To run away.”

“Yes.”

“Good man. Only sensible thing, in the circumstances.” He noticed Eric, who was

staring at the other captains clustered around their table and deep in argument.

“You, lad,” he said. “Want to be a soldier when you grow up?”

“No, sir.”

The man brightened a bit.

“That's the stuff,” he said.

“I want to be a eunuch, sir,” Eric added.

Rincewind's head turned as though it was being dragged. “Why?” he said, and then came up with the obvious answer at the same as Eric: “Because you get to work in the harem all day long,” they chorused slowly.

The captain coughed.

“You're not this boy's teacher, are you?” he said.

“No.”

“Do you think anyone has explained to him - ?”

“No.”

"Perhaps it would be a good idea if I got one of the centurions to have a word? You'd be

amazed at the grasp of language those chaps have got.“ ”Do him the power of good, I expect," said Rincewind. The soldier picked up his helmet, sighed, nodded at the sergeant and smoothed out the

creases in his cloak. It was a grubby cloak.

“I think I'm expected to tell you off, or something,” he said.

“What for?”

“Spoiling the war, apparently.” “Spoiling the war?” The soldier sighed. "Come on. Let's go for a stroll. Sergeant - you and a couple of lads,

please.“ A stone whistled down from the fort high above them, and shattered. ”They can hold out for bloody weeks, up there." Said the soldier gloomily, as they

walked away with the Luggage padding patiently behind them. “I'm Lavaeolus. Who're you?” “He's my demon,” said Eric. Lavaeolus raised an eyebrow, the closest he ever came to expressing surprise at anything. “Is he? I suppose it takes all sorts. Any good at getting into places, is he?”

“He's more the getting-out kind,” said Eric. “Right,” said Lavaeolus. He stopped beside a building and walked up and down a bit with his hands in his pockets, tapping on the flagstones with the toe of his sandal.

“Just here, I think, sergeant,” he said after a while. “Right you are, sir.” “Look at that lot, will you?” said Lavaeolus, while the sergeant and his men started to

lever up the stones. “That bunch around the table. Brave lads, I'll grant you, but look at them. Too busy posing for triumphant statues and making sure the historians spell their names right. Bloody years we've been laying siege to this place. More military, they said. You know, they actually enjoy it? I mean, when all's said and done, who cares? Let's just get it over with and go home, that's what I say.”

“Found it, sir,” said the sergeant.