tp.lightfantastic-第11章

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　Twoflower　peered　at　him。
　'Are　you　all　right？'　he　said。　'How　many　fingers　am　I　holding　up？'
　'I　want　to　go　home！'
　'Okay。'
　'No；　don't　try　and　talk　me　out　of　it；　I've　had　enough；　I'd　like　to　say　it's　been　great　fun　but　I　can't；　and　…　what？'
　'I　said　okay；'　said　Twoflower。　'I'd　quite　like　to　see　Ankh…Morpork　again。　I　expect　they've　rebuilt　quite　a　lot　of　it　by　now。'
　It　should　be　noted　that　the　last　time　the　two　of　them　had　seen　the　city　it　was　burning　quite　fiercely；　a　fact　which　had　a　lot　to　do　with　Twoflower　introducing　the　concept　of　fire　insurance　to　a　venial　but　ignorant　populace。　But　devastating　fires　were　a　regular　feature　of　Morporkian　life　and　it　had　always　been　cheerfully　and　meticulously　rebuilt；　using　the　traditional　local　materials　of　tinder…dry　wood　and　thatch　waterproofed　with　tar。
　'Oh；'　said　Rincewind；　deflating　a　bit。　'Oh；　right。　Right　then。　Good。　Perhaps　we'd　better　be　off；　then。'
　He　scrambled　up　and　brushed　the　snow　off　himself。
　'Only　I　think　we　should　wait　until　morning；'　added　Twoflower。
　'Why？'
　'Well；　because　it's　freezing　cold；　we　don't　really　know　where　we　are；　the　Luggage　has　gone　missing；　it's　getting　dark…'
　Rincewind　paused。　In　the　deep　canyons　of　his　mind　he　thought　he　heard　the　distant　rustle　of　ancient　paper。　He　had　a　horrible　feeling　that　his　dreams　were　going　to　be　very　repetitive　from　now　on；　and　he　had　much　better　things　to　do　than　be　lectured　by　a　bunch　of　ancient　spells　who　couldn't　even　agree　on　how　the　Universe　began　…
　A　tiny　dry　voice　at　the　back　of　his　brain　said：　What　things？
　'Oh；　shut　up；'　he　said。
　'I　only　said　it's　freezing　cold　and…'　Twoflower　began。
　'I　didn't　mean　you；　I　meant　me。'
　'What？'
　'Oh；　shut　up；'　said　Rincewind　wearily。　'I　don't　suppose　there's　anything　to　eat　around　here？'
　The　giant　stones　were　black　and　menacing　against　the　dying　green　light　of　sunset。　The　inner　circle　was　full　of　druids；　scurrying　around　by　the　light　of　several　bonfires　and　tuning　up　all　the　necessary　peripherals　of　a　stone　puter；　like　rams'　skulls　on　poles　topped　with　mistletoe；　banners　embroidered　with　twisted　snakes　and　so　on。　Beyond　the　circles　of　firelight　a　large　number　of　plains　people　had　gathered；　druidic　festivals　were　always　popular；　especially　when　things　went　wrong。　Rincewind　stared　at　them。
　'What's　going　on？'
　'Oh；　well；'　said　Twoflower　enthusiastically；　'apparently　there's　this　ceremony　dating　back　for　thousands　of　years　to　celebrate　the；　um；　rebirth　of　the　moon；　or　possibly　the　sun。　No；　I'm　pretty　certain　it's　the　moon。　Apparently　it's　very　solemn　and　beautiful　and　invested　with　a　quiet　dignity。'
　Rincewind　shivered。　He　always　began　to　worry　when　Twoflower　started　to　talk　like　that。　At　least　he　hadn't　said　'picturesque'　or　'quaint'　yet；　Rincewind　had　never　found　a　satisfactory　translation　for　those　words；　but　the　nearest　he　had　been　able　to　e　was　'trouble'。
　'I　wish　the　Luggage　was　here；'　said　the　tourist　regretfully。　'I　could　use　my　picture　box。　It　sounds　very　quaint　and　picturesque。'
　The　crowd　stirred　expectantly。　Apparently　things　were　about　to　start。
　'Look；'　said　Rincewind　urgently。　'Druids　are　priests。　You　must　remember　that。　Don't　do　anything　to　upset　them。'
　'But…'
　'Don't　offer　to　buy　the　stones。'
　'But　I…'
　'Don't　start　talking　about　quaint　native　folkways。'
　'I　thought…'
　'Really　don't　try　to　sell　them　insurance；　that　always　upsets　them。'
　'But　they're　priests！'　wailed　Twoflower。　Rincewind　paused。
　'Yes；'　he　said。　That's　the　whole　point；　isn't　it？'
　At　the　far　side　of　the　outer　circle　some　sort　of　procession　was　forming　up。
　'But　priests　are　good　kind　men；'　said　Twoflower。　'At　home　they　go　around　with　begging　bowls。　It's　their　only　possession；'　he　added。
　'Ah；'　said　Rincewind；　not　certain　he　understood。　This　would　be　for　putting　the　blood　in；　right？'
　'Blood？'
　'Yes；　from　sacrifices。'　Rincewind　thought　about　the　priests　he　had　known　at　home。　He　was；　of　course；　anxious　not　to　make　an　enemy　of　any　god　and　had　attended　any　number　of　temple　functions　and；　on　the　whole；　he　thought　that　the　most　accurate　definition　of　any　priest　in　the　Circle　Sea　Regions　was　someone　who　spent　quite　a　lot　of　time　gory　to　the　armpits。
　Twoflower　looked　horrified。
　'Oh　no；'　he　said。　'Where　I　e　from　priests　are　holy　men　who　have　dedicated　themselves　to　lives　of　poverty；　good　works　and　the　study　of　the　nature　of　God。'
　Rincewind　considered　this　novel　proposition。
　'No　sacrifices？'　he　said。
　'Absolutely　not。'
　Rincewind　gave　up。　'Well；'　he　said；　'they　don't　sound　very　holy　to　me。'
　There　was　a　loud　blarting　noise　from　a　band　of　bronze　trumpets。　Rincewind　looked　around。　A　line　of　druids　marched　slowly　past；　their　long　sickles　hung　with　sprays　of　mistletoe。　Various　junior　druids　and　apprentices　followed　them；　playing　a　variety　of　percussion　instruments　that　were　traditionally　supposed　to　drive　away　evil　spirits　and　quite　probably　succeeded。
　Torchlight　made　excitingly　dramatic　patterns　on　the　stones；　which　stood　ominously　against　the　green…lit　sky。　Hubwards；　the　shimmering　curtains　of　the　aurora　coriolis　began　to　wink　and　glitter　among　the　stars　as　a　million　ice　rystals　danced　in　the　Disc's　magical　field。
　'Belafon　explained　it　all　to　me；'　whispered　Twoflower。　We're　going　to　see　a　time…honoured　ceremony　that　celebrates　the　Oneness　of　Man　with　the　Universe；　that　was　what　he　said。'
　Rincewind　looked　sourly　at　the　procession。　As　the　druids　spread　out　around　a　great　flat　stone　that　dominated　the　centre　of　the　circle　he　couldn't　help　noticing　the　attractive　if　rather　pale　young　lady　in　their　midst。　She　wore　a　long　white　robe；　a　gold　torc　around　her　neck；　and　an　expression　of　vague　apprehension。
　'Is　she　a　druidess？'　said　Twoflower。
　'I　don't　think　so；'　said　Rincewind　slowly。
　The　druids　began　to　chant。　It　was；　Rincewind　felt；　a　particularly　nasty　and　rather　dull　chant　which　sounded　very　much　as　if　it　was　going　to　build　up　to　an　abrupt　crescendo。　The　sight　of　the　young　woman　lying　down　on　the　big　stone　didn't　do　anything　to　derail　his　train　of　thought。
　'I　want　to　stay；'　said　Twoflower。　'I　think　ceremonies　like　this　hark　back　to　a　primitive　simplicity　which…'
　Yes；　yes；'　said　Rincewind；　'but　they're　going　to　sacrifice　her；　if　you　must　know。'
　Twoflower　looked　at　him　in　astonishment。
　'What；　kill　her？'
　'Yes。'
　'Why？'
　'Don't　ask　me。　To　make　the　crops　grow　or　the　moon　rise　or　something。　Or　maybe　they're　just　keen　on　killing　people。　That's　religion　for　you。'
　He　became　aware　of　a　low　humming　sound；　not　so　much　heard　as　felt。　It　seemed　to　be　ing　from　the　stone　next　to　them。　Little　points　of　light　flickered　under　its　surface；　like　mica　specks。
　Twoflower　was　opening　and　shutting　his　mouth。
　'Can't　they　just　use　flowers　and　berries　and　things？'　he　said。　'Sort　of　symbolic？'
　'Nope。'
　'Has　anyone　ever　tried？'
　Rincewind　sighed。　'Look；'　he　said。　'No　self…respecting　High　Priest　is　going　to　go　through　all　the　business　with　the　trumpets　and　the　processions　and　the　banners　and　everything；　and　then　shove　his　knife　into　a　daffodil　and　a　couple　of　plums。　You've　got　to　face　it；　all　this　stuff　about　golden　boughs　and　the　cycles　of　nature　and　stuff　just　boils　down　to　sex　and　violence；　usually　at　the　same　time。'
　To　his　amazement　Twoflower's　lip　was　trembling。　Twoflower　didn't　just　look　at　the　world　through　rose…tinted　spectacles；　Rincewind　knew　…　he　looked　at　it　through　a　rose…tinted　brain；　too；　and　heard　it　through　rose…tinted　ears。
　The　chant　was　rising　inexorably　to　a　crescendo。　The　head　druid　was　testing　the　edge　of　his　sickle　and　all　eyes　were　turned　to　the　finger　of　stone　on　the　snowy　hills　beyond　the　circle　where　the　moon　was　due　to　make　a　guest　appearance。
　'It's　no　use　you…'
　But　Rincewind　was　talking　to　himself。
　

　However；　the　chilly　landscape　outside　the　circle　was　not　entirely　devoid　of　life。　For　one　thing　a　party　of　wizards　was　even　now　drawing　near；　alerted　by　Trymon。
　But　a　small　and　solitary　figure　was　also　watching　from　the　cover　of　a　handy　fallen　stone。　One　of　the　Disc's　greatest　legends　watched　the　events　in　the　stone　circle　with　considerable　interest。
　He　saw　the　druids　circle　and　chant；　saw　the　chief　druid　I　raise　his　sickle　。　。　。'
　Heard　the　voice。
　'I　say！　Excuse　me！　Can　I　have　a　word？'
　

　Rincewind　looked　around　desperately　for　a　way　of　escape。　There　wasn't　one。　Twoflower　was　standing　by　the　altar　stone　with　one　finger　in　the　air　and　an　attitude　of　polite　determination。
　Rincewind　remembered　one　day　when　Twoflower　had　thought　a　passing　drover　was　beating　his　cattle　too　hard；　and　the　case　he　had　made　for　decency　towards　animals　had　left　Rincewind　severely　trampled　and　lightly　gored。　The　druids　were　looking　at　Twoflower　with　the　kind　of　expression　normally　reserved　for　mad　sheep　or　the　sudden　appearance　of　a　rain　of　frogs。　Rincewind　couldn't　quite　hear　what　Twoflower　was　saying；　but　a　few　phrases　like　'ethnic　folkways'　and　'nuts　and　flowers'　floated　across　the　hushed　circle。
　Then　fingers　like　a　bunch　of　cheese　straws　clamped　over　the　wizard's　mouth　and　an　extremely　sharp　cutting　edge　pinked　his　adams　apple　and　a　damp　voice　right　by　his　ear　said；　'Not　a　shound；　or　you　ish　a　dead　man。'
　Rincewind's　eyes　swivelled　in　their　sockets　as　if　trying　to　find　a　way　out。
　'If　you　don't　want　me　to　say　anything；　how　will　you　know　I　understand　what　you　just　said？'　he　hissed。
　'Shut　up　and　tell　me　what　that　other　idiot　ish　doing！'
　'No；　but　look；　if　I've　got　to　shut　up；　how　can　I…'　The　knife　at　his　throat　became　a　hot　streak　of　pain　and　Rincewind　decided　to　give　logic　a　miss。
　'His　name's　Twoflower。　He　isn't　from　these　parts。'
　'Doeshn't　look　like　it。　Friend　of　yoursh？'
　'We've　got　this　sort　of　hate…hate　relationship；　yes。'
　Rincewind　couldn't　see　his　captor；　but　by　the　feel　of　it　he　had　a　body　made　of　coathangers。　He　also　smelt　strongly　of　peppermints。
　'He　hash　got　guts；　I'll　give　him　that。　Do　exshactly　what　I　shay　and　it　ish　just　poshible　he　won't　end　up　with　them　wrapped　around　a　shtone。'
　'Urrr。'
　'They're　not　very　ecumenical　around　here；　you　shee。'
　It　was　at　that　moment　that　the　moon；　in　due　obedience　to　the　laws　of　persuasion；　rose；　although　in　deference　to　he　laws　of　puting　it　wasn't　anywhere　near　where　the　stones　said　it　should　be。
　But　what　was　there；　peeking　through　ragged　clouds；　was　a　glaring　red　star。　It　hung　exactly　over　the　circle's　holiest　stone；　glittering　away　like　the　sparkle　in　the　eyesocket　of　Death。　It　was　sullen　and　awful　and；　Rincewind　couldn't　help　noticing；　just　a　little　bit　bigger　than　it　was　last　night。
　A　cry　of　horror　went　up　from　the　assembled　priests。　The　crowd　on　the　surrounding　banks　pressed　forward；　this　looked　quite　promising。
　Rincewind　felt　a　knife　handle　slip　into　his　hand；　and　the　squelchy　voice　behind　him　said；　'You　ever　done　this　short　of　thing　before？'
　'What　sort　of　thing？'
　'Rushed　into　a　temple；　killed　the　prieshts；　shtolen　the　gold　and　reshcued　the　girl。'
　'No；　not　in　so　many　words。'
　'You　do　it　like　thish。'
　Two　inches　from　Rincewind's　left　ear　a　voice　broke　into　a　sound　like　a　baboon　with　its　foot　trapped　in　an　echo　canyon；　and　a　small　but　wiry　shape　rushed　past　him。
　By　the　light　of　the　torches　he　saw　that　it　was　a　very　old　man；　the　skinny　variety　that　generally　gets　called　'spry