tp.lightfantastic-第17章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　Rincewind　managed　to　get　a　few　yards　from　the　yurt　efore　the　ratchet　of　the　picture　box　began　to　click。　Very　slowly；　the　box　extruded　the　last　picture　that　the　imp　had　taken。
　Rincewind　snatched　at　it。
　What　it　showed　would　have　been　quite　horrible　even　in　broad　daylight。　By　freezing　starlight；　tinted　red　with　the　fires　of　the　evil　new　star；　it　was　a　lot　worse。
　'No；'　said　Rincewind　softly。　'No；　it　wasn't　like　that；　there　was　a　house；　and　this　girl；　and　。　。　。'
　'You　see　what　you　see　and　I　paint　what　I　see；'　said　the　imp　from　its　hatch。　'What　I　see　is　real。　I　was　bred　for　it。　I　only　see　what's　really　there。'
　A　dark　shape　crunched　over　the　snowcrust　towards　Rincewind。　It　was　the　Luggage。　Rincewind；　who　normally　hated　and　distrusted　it；　suddenly　felt　it　was　the　most　refreshingly　normal　thing　he　had　ever　seen。
　'I　see　you　made　it；　then；'　said　Rincewind。　The　Luggage　rattled　its　lid。
　'Okay；　but　what　did　you　see？'　said　Rincewind。　'Did　you　look　behind？'
　The　Luggage　said　nothing。　For　a　moment　they　were　silent；　like　two　warriors　who　have　fled　the　field　of　carnage　and　have　paused　for　a　return　of　breath　and　sanity。
　Then　Rincewind　said；　'e　on；　there's　a　fire　inside。'　He　reached　out　to　pat　the　Luggage's　lid。　It　snapped　irritably　at　him；　nearly　catching　his　fingers。　Life　was　back　to　normal　again。
　

　The　next　day　dawned　bright　and　clear　and　cold。　The　sky　became　a　blue　dome　stuck　on　the　white　sheet　of　the　world；　and　the　whole　effect　would　have　been　as　fresh　and　clean　as　a　toothpaste　advert　if　it　wasn't　for　the　pink　dot　on　the　horizon。
　'You　can　shee　it　in　daylight　now；'　said　Cohen。　'What　is　it？'
　He　looked　hard　at　Rincewind；　who　reddened。
　'Why　does　everyone　look　at　me？'　he　said。　'I　don't　know　107　what　it　is；　maybe　it's　a　et　or　something。'
　'Will　we　all　be　burned　up？'　said　Bethan。
　'How　should　I　know？　I've　never　been　hit　by　a　et　before。'
　They　were　riding　in　single　file　across　the　brilliant　snow…field。　The　Horse　people；　who　seemed　to　hold　Cohen　in　high　regard；　had　given　them　their　mounts　and　directions　to　the　River　Smarl；　a　hundred　miles　rimward；　where　Cohen　reckoned　Rincewind　and　Twoflower　could　find　a　boat　to　take　them　to　the　Circle　Sea。　He　had　announced　that　he　was　ing　with　them；　on　account　of　his　chilblains。
　Bethan　had　promptly　announced　that　she　was　going　to　e　too；　in　case　Cohen　wanted　anything　rubbed。
　Rincewind　was　vaguely　aware　of　some　sort　of　chemistry　bubbling　away。　For　one　thing；　Cohen　had　made　an　effort　to　b　his　beard。
　'I　think　she's　rather　taken　with　you；'　he　said。　Cohen　sighed。
　If　I　wash　twenty　yearsh　younger；'　he　said　wistfully。
　'Yes？'
　'I'd　be　shixty…sheven。'
　'What's　that　got　to　do　with　it？'
　'Well　…　how　can　I　put　it？　When　I　wash　a　young　man；　carving　my　name　in　the　world；　well；　then　I　liked　my　women　red…haired　and　fiery。'
　'Ah。'
　'And　then　I　grew　a　little　older　and　for　preference　I　looked　for　a　woman　with　blonde　hair；　and　the　glint　of　the　world　in　her　eye。'
　'Oh？　Yes？'
　'But　then　I　grew　a　little　older　again　and　I　came　to　see　the　point　of　dark　women　of　a　sultry　nature。'
　He　paused。　Rincewind　waited。
　'And？'　he　said。　'Then　what？　What　is　it　that　you　look　for　in　a　woman　now？'
　Cohen　turned　one　rheumy　blue　eye　on　him。
　'Patience；'　he　said。
　'I　can't　believe　it！'　said　a　voice　behind　them。　'Me　riding　ith　Cohen　the　Barbarian！'
　It　was　Twoflower。　Since　early　morning　he　had　been　like　a　monkey　with　the　key　to　the　banana　plantation　after　discovering　he　was　breathing　the　same　air　as　the　greatest　hero　of　all　time。
　'Is　he　perhapsh　being　sharcashtic？'　said　Cohen　to　Rincewind。
　'No。　He's　always　like　that。'
　Cohen　turned　in　his　saddle。　Twoflower　beamed　at　him；　and　waved　proudly。　Cohen　turned　back；　and　grunted。
　'He's　got　eyesh；　hashn't　he？'
　'Yes；　but　they　don't　work　like　other　people's。　Take　it　from　me。　I　mean　…　well；　you　know　the　Horse　people's　yurt；　where　we　were　last　night？'
　'Yesh。'
　'Would　you　say　it　was　a　bit　dark　and　greasy　and　smelt　like　a　very　ill　horse？'
　'Very　accurate　deshcription；　I'd　shay。'
　'He　wouldn't　agree。　He'd　say　it　was　a　magnificent　barbarian　tent；　hung　with　the　pelts　of　the　great　beasts　hunted　by　the　lean…eyed　warriors　from　the　edge　of　civilisation；　and　smelt　of　the　rare　and　curious　resins　plundered　from　the　caravans　as　they　crossed　the　trackless　…　well；　and　so　on。　I　mean　it；'　he　added。
　'He'sh　mad？'
　'Sort　of　mad。　But　mad　with　lots　of　money。'
　'Ah；　then　he　can't　be　mad。　I've　been　around；　if　a　man　hash　lotsh　of　money　he'sh　just　ecshentric。'
　Cohen　turned　in　his　saddle　again。　Twoflower　was　telling　Bethan　how　Cohen　had　single…handed　defeated　the　snake　warriors　of　the　witch　lord　of　S'belinde　and　stolen　the　sacred　diamond　from　the　giant　statue　of　Offler　the　Crocodile　God。
　A　weird　smile　formed　among　the　wrinkles　of　Cohen's　face。
　'I　could　tell　him　to　shut　up；　if　you　like；'　said　Rincewind。
　'Would　he？'
　'No；　not　really。'
　'Let　him　babble；'　said　Cohen。　His　hand　fell　to　the　handle　of　his　sword；　polished　smooth　by　the　grip　of　decades。
　'Anyway；　I　like　his　eyes；'　he　said。　They　can　see　for　fifty　years。'
　A　hundred　yards　behind　them；　hopping　rather　awkwardly　through　the　soft　snow；　came　the　Luggage。　No…one　ever　asked　its　opinion　about　anything。
　

　By　evening　they　had　e　to　the　edge　of　the　high　plains；　and　rode　down　through　gloomy　pine　forests　that　had　only　been　lightly　dusted　by　the　snowstorm。　It　was　a　landscape　of　huge　cracked　rocks；　and　valleys　so　narrow　and　deep　that　the　days　only　lasted　about　twenty　minutes。　A　wild；　windy　country；　the　sort　where　you　might　expect　to　find　…
　Trollsh；'　said　Cohen；　sniffing　the　air。
　Rincewind　stared　around　him　in　the　red　evening　light。　Suddenly　rocks　that　had　seemed　perfectly　normal　looked　suspiciously　alive。　Shadows　that　he　wouldn't　have　looked　at　twice　now　began　to　look　horribly　occupied。
　'I　like　trolls；'　said　Twoflower。
　'No　you　don't；'　said　Rincewind　firmly。　'You　can't。　They're　big　and　knobbly　and　they　eat　people。'
　'No　they　don't；'　said　Cohen；　sliding　awkwardly　off　his　horse　and　massaging　his　knees。　'Well…known　mishap…prehenshion；　that　ish。　Trolls　never　ate　anybody。'
　'No？'
　'No；　they　alwaysh　spit　the　bitsh　out。　Can't　digesht　people；　see？　Your　average　troll　don't　want　any　more　out　of　life　than　a　nice　lump　of　granite；　maybe；　with　perhapsh　a　nice　slab　of　limeshtone　for　aftersh。　I　heard　someone　shay　it's　becosh　they're　a　shilicashe　…　a　shillycaysheou　…　Cohen　paused；　and　wiped　his　beard；　'made　out　of　rocks。
　Rincewind　nodded。　Trolls　were　not　unknown　in　Ankh…Morpork；　of　course；　where　they　often　got　employment　as　bodyguards。　They　tended　to　be　a　bit　expensive　to　keep　ntil　they　learned　about　doors　and　didn't　simply　leave　the　house　by　walking　aimlessly　through　the　nearest　wall。
　As　they　gathered　firewood　Cohen　went　on；　Trollsh　teeth；　that'sh　the　thingsh。'
　'Why？'　said　Bethan。
　'Diamonds。　Got　to　be；　you　shee。　Only　thing　that　can　shtand　the　rocksh；　and　they　shtill　have　to　grow　a　new　shet　every　year。'
　'Talking　of　teeth…'　said　Twoflower。
　'Yesh？'
　'I　can't　help　noticing　…'
　'Yesh？'
　'Oh；　nothing；'　said　Twoflower。
　'Yesh？　Oh。　Let'sh　get　thish　fire　going　before　we　loshe　the　light。　And　then；'　Cohen's　face　fell；　'I　supposhe　we'd　better　make　some　shoop。'
　'Rincewind's　good　at　that；'　said　Twoflower　enthusiastically。　'He　knows　all　about　herbs　and　roots　and　things。'
　Cohen　gave　Rincewind　a　look　which　suggested　that　he；　Cohen；　didn't　believe　that。
　'Well；　the　Horshe　people　gave　us　shome　horse　jerky；'　he　said。　'If　you　can　find　shome　wild　onionsh　and　stuff；　it　might　make　it　tashte　better。'
　'But　I…'　Rincewind　began；　and　gave　up。　Anyway；　he　reasoned；　I　know　what　an　onion　looks　like；　it's　a　sort　of　saggy　white　thing　with　a　green　bit　sticking　out　of　the　top；　should　be　fairly　conspicuous。
　'I'll　just　go　and　have　a　look；　shall　I？'　he　said。
　'Yesh。'
　'Over　there　in　all　that　thick；　shadowy　undergrowth？'
　'Very　good　playshe；　yesh。'
　'Where　all　the　deep　gullies　and　things　are；　you　mean？'
　'Ideal　shpot；　I'd　shay。'
　'Yes；　I　thought　so；'　said　Rincewind　bitterly。　He　set　off；　wondering　how　you　attracted　onions。　After　all；　he　thought；　although　you　see　them　hanging　in　ropes　on　market　stalls　they　probably　don't　grow　like　that；　perhaps　peasants　or　whatever　use　onions　hounds　or　something；　or　ing　songs　to　attract　onions。
　There　were　a　few　early　stars　out　as　he　started　to　poke　aimlessly　among　the　leaves　and　grass。　Luminous　fungi；　unpleasantly　organic　and　looking　like　marital　aids　for　gnomes；　squished　under　his　feet。　Small　flying　things　bit　him。　Other　things；　fortunately　invisible；　hopped　or　slithered　away　under　the　bushes　and　croaked　reproachfully　at　him。
　'Onions？'　whispered　Rincewind。　'Any　onions　here？'
　'There's　a　patch　of　them　by　that　old　yew　tree；'　said　a　voice　beside　him。
　'Ah；'　said　Rincewind。　'Good。'
　There　was　a　long　silence；　except　for　the　buzzing　of　the　mosquitoes　around　Rincewind's　ears。
　He　was　standing　perfectly　still。　He　hadn't　even　moved　his　eyes。
　Eventually　he　said；　'Excuse　me。'
　'Yes？'
　'Which　one's　the　yew？'
　'Small　gnarly　one　with　the　little　dark　green　needles。'
　'Oh；　yes。　I　see　it。　Thanks　again。'
　He　didn't　move。　Eventually　the　voice　said　conversationally；　'Anything　more　I　can　do　for　you？'
　'You're　not　a　tree；　are　you？'　said　Rincewind；　still　staring　straight　ahead。
　'Don't　be　silly。　Trees　can't　talk。'
　'Sorry。　It's　just　that　I've　been　having　a　bit　of　difficulty　with　trees　lately；　you　know　how　it　is。'
　'Not　really。　I'm　a　rock。'
　Rincewind's　voice　hardly　changed。
　'Fine；　fine；'　he　said　slowly。　'Well；　I'll　just　be　getting　those　onions；　then。'
　'Enjoy　them。'
　He　walked　forward　in　a　careful　and　dignified　fashion；　spotted　a　clump　of　stringy　white　things　huddling　in　the　undergrowth；　uprooted　them　carefully；　and　turned　around。
　There　was　a　rock　a　little　way　away。　But　there　were　rocks　everywhere；　the　very　bones　of　the　Disc　were　near　he　surface　here。
　He　looked　hard　at　the　yew　tree；　just　in　case　it　had　been　speaking。　But　the　yew；　being　a　fairly　solitary　tree；　hadn't　heard　about　Rincewind　the　arborial　saviour；　and　in　any　case　was　asleep。
　'If　that　was　you；　Twoflower；　I　knew　it　was　you　all　along；'　said　Rincewind。　His　voice　sounded　suddenly　clear　and　very　alone　in　the　gathering　dusk。
　Rincewind　remembered　the　only　fact　he　knew　for　sure　about　trolls；　which　was　that　they　turned　to　stone　when　exposed　to　sunlight；　so　that　anyone　who　employed　trolls　to　work　during　daylight　had　to　spend　a　fortune　in　barrier　cream。
　But　now　that　he　came　to　think　about　it；　it　didn't　say　anywhere　what　happened　to　them　after　the　sun　had　gone　down　again　。　。　。
　The　last　of　the　daylight　trickled　out　of　the　landscape。　And　there　suddenly　seemed　to　be　a　great　many　rocks　about。
　

　'He's　an　awful　long　time　with　those　onions；'　said　Two…flower。　'Do　you　think　we'd　better　go　and　look　for　him？'
　'Wishards　know　how　to　look　after　themshelves；'　said　Cohen。　'Don't　worry。'　He　winced。　Bethan　was　cutting　his　toenails。
　'He's　not　a　terribly　good　wizard；　actually；'　said　Twoflower；　drawing　nearer　the　fire。　'I　wouldn't　say　this　to　his　face；　but'　…　he　leaned　towards　Cohen　…　'I've　never　actually　seen　him　do　any　magic。'
　'Right；　let's　have　the　other　one；'　said　Bethan。
　'Thish　is　very　kind　of　you。'
　'You'd　have　quite　nice　feet　if　only　you'd　look　after　t