tp.lightfantastic-第24章

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ry。
　There　was　the　faintest　of　sounds　behind　him；　not　so　much　a　sound　in　fact　as　a　change　in　the　texture　of　the　air。
　The　faces　in　front　of　him　gaped　open；　turned；　and　disappeared　rapidly　down　the　alley。
　'Eh？'　said　Bethan；　still　propping　up　the　now　unconscious　Rincewind。
　Twoflower　was　looking　the　other　way；　at　a　big　glass　window　full　of　strange　wares；　and　a　beaded　doorway；　and　a　large　sign　above　it　all　which　now　said；　after　its　characters　had　finished　writhing　into　position：
　'Skillet；　Wang；　Yrxle！yt；　Bunglestiff；　Cwmlad　and　Patel'
　'Estblshd：　various'
　'PURVEYORS'
　

　The　jeweller　turned　the　gold　slowly　over　the　tiny　anvil；　tapping　the　last　strangely…cut　diamond　into　place。
　'From　a　troll's　tooth；　you　say？'　he　muttered；　squinting　losely　at　his　work。
　'Yesh；'　said　Cohen；　'and　as　I　shay；　you　can　have　all　the　resht。'　He　was　fingering　a　tray　of　gold　rings。
　'Very　generous；'　murmured　the　jeweller；　who　was　dwar…vish　and　knew　a　good　deal　when　he　saw　one。　He　sighed。
　'Not　much　work　lately？'　said　Cohen。　He　looked　out　through　the　tiny　window　and　watched　a　group　of　empty…eyed　people　gathered　on　the　other　side　of　the　narrow　street。
　'Times　are　hard；　yes。'
　'Who　are　all　theshe　guysh　with　the　starsh　painted　on？'　said　Cohen。
　The　dwarf　jeweller　didn't　look　up。
　'Madmen；'　he　said。　'They　say　I　should　do　no　work　because　the　star　es。　I　tell　them　stars　have　never　hurt　me；　I　wish　I　could　say　the　same　about　people。'
　Cohen　nodded　thoughtfully　as　six　men　detached　themselves　from　the　group　and　came　towards　the　shop。　They　were　carrying　an　assortment　of　weapons；　and　had　a　driven；　determined　look　about　them。
　'Strange；'　said　Cohen。
　'I　am；　as　you　can　see；　of　the　dwarvish　persuasion；'　said　the　jeweller。　'One　of　the　magical　races；　it　is　said。　The　star　people　believe　that　the　star　will　not　destroy　the　Disc　if　we　turn　aside　from　magic。　They're　probably　going　to　beat　me　up　a　bit。　So　it　goes。'
　He　held　up　his　latest　work　in　a　pair　of　tweezers。
　'The　strangest　thing　I　have　ever　made；'　he　said；　'but　practical；　I　can　see　that。　What　did　you　say　they　were　called　again？'
　'Din…chewersh；'　said　Cohen。　He　looked　at　the　horseshoe　shapes　nestling　in　the　wrinkled　palm　of　his　hand；　then　opened　his　mouth　and　made　a　series　of　painful　grunting　noises。
　The　door　burst　open。　The　men　strode　in　and　took　up　positions　around　the　walls。　They　were　sweating　and　uncertain；　but　their　leader　pushed　Cohen　aside　disdainfully　and　picked　up　the　dwarf　by　his　shirt。
　'We　tole　you　yesterday；　small　stuff；'　he　said。　'You　go　ut　feet　down　or　feet　up；　we　don't　mind。　So　now　we　gonna　get　really　…。'
　Cohen　tapped　him　on　the　shoulder。　The　man　looked　around　irritably。
　'What　do　you　want；　grandad？'　he　snarled。
　Cohen　paused　until　he　had　the　man's　full　attention；　and　then　he　smiled。　It　was　a　slow；　lazy　smile；　unveiling　about　300　carats　of　mouth　jewellery　that　seemed　to　light　up　the　room。
　'I　will　count　to　three；'　he　said；　in　a　friendly　tone　of　voice。　'One。　Two。'　His　bony　knee　came　up　and　buried　itself　in　the　man's　groin　with　a　satisfyingly　meaty　noise；　and　he　half…turned　to　bring　the　full　force　of　an　elbow　into　the　kidneys　as　the　leader　collapsed　around　his　private　universe　of　pain。
　'Three；'　he　told　the　ball　of　agony　on　the　floor。　Cohen　had　heard　of　fighting　fair；　and　had　long　ago　decided　he　wanted　no　part　of　it。
　He　looked　up　at　the　other　men；　and　flashed　his　incredible　srnile。
　They　ought　to　have　rushed　him。　Instead　one　of　them；　secure　in　the　knowledge　that　he　had　a　broadsword　and　Cohen　didn't；　sidled　crabwise　towards　him。
　'Oh；　no；'　said　Cohen；　waving　his　hands。　'Oh；　e　on；　lad；　not　like　that。'
　The　man　looked　sideways　at　him。
　'Not　like　what？'　he　asked　suspiciously。
　'You　never　held　a　sword　before？'
　The　man　half…turned　to　his　colleagues　for　reassurance。
　'Not　a　lot；　no；'　he　said。　'Not　often。'　He　waved　his　sword　menacingly。
　Cohen　shrugged。　'I　may　be　going　to　die；　but　I　should　hope　I　could　be　killed　by　a　man　who　could　hold　his　sword　like　a　warrior；'　he　said。
　The　man　looked　at　his　hands。　'Looks　all　right；'　he　said；　doubtfully。
　'Look；　lad；　I　know　a　little　about　these　things。　I　mean；　e　here　a　minute　and　…　do　you　mind？　…　right；　your　eft　hand　goes　here；　around　the　pommel；　and　your　right　hand　goes　…　that's　right；　just　here　…　and　the　blade　goes　right　into　your　leg。'
　As　the　man　screamed　and　clutched　at　his　foot　Cohen　kicked　his　remaining　leg　away　and　turned　to　the　room　at　large。
　'This　is　getting　fiddly；'　he　said。　Why　don't　you　rush　me？'
　'That's　right；'　said　a　voice　by　his　waist。　The　jeweller　had　produced　a　very　large　and　dirty　axe；　guaranteed　to　add　tetanus　to　all　the　other　terrors　of　warfare。
　The　four　men　gave　these　odds　some　consideration；　and　backed　towards　the　door。
　'And　wipe　those　silly　stars　off；'　said　Cohen。　'You　can　tell　everyone　that　Cohen　the　Barbarian　will　be　very　angry　if　he　sees　stars　like　that　again；　right？'
　The　door　slammed　shut。　A　moment　later　the　axe　thumped　into　it；　bounced　off；　and　took　a　sliver　of　leather　off　the　toe　of　Cohen's　sandal。
　'Sorry；'　said　the　dwarf。　'It　belonged　to　my　grandad。　I　only　use　it　for　splitting　firewood。'
　Cohen　felt　his　jaw　experimentally。　The　dine　chewers　seemed　to　be　settling　in　quite　well。
　'If　I　was　you；　I'd　be　getting　out　of　here　anyway；'　he　said。　But　the　dwarf　was　already　scuttling　around　the　room；　tipping　trays　of　precious　metal　and　gems　into　a　leather　sack。　A　roll　of　tools　went　into　one　pocket；　a　packet　of　finished　jewellery　went　into　another；　and　with　a　grunt　the　dwarf　stuck　his　arms　through　handles　on　either　side　of　his　little　forge　and　heaved　it　bodily　onto　his　back。
　'Right；'　he　said。　I'm　ready。'
　'You're　ing　with　me？'
　'As　far　as　the　city　gates；　if　you　don't　mind；'　he　said。　'You　can't　blame　me；　can　you？'
　'No。　But　leave　the　axe　behind。'
　They　stepped　out　into　the　afternoon　sun　and　a　deserted　street。　When　Cohen　opened　his　mouth　little　pinpoints　of　bright　light　illuminated　all　the　shadows。
　'I've　got　some　friends　around　here　to　pick　up；'　he　said；　nd　added；　'I　hope　they're　all　right。　What's　your　name？'
　'Lackjaw。'
　'Is　there　anywhere　around　here　where　I　can…'　Cohen　paused　lovingly；　savouring　the　words　…　'where　I　can　get　a　steak？'
　The　star　people　have　closed　all　the　inns。　They　said　it's　wrong　to　be　eating　and　drinking　when　…'
　'I　know；　I　know；'　said　Cohen。　'I　think　I'm　beginning　to　get　the　hang　of　it。　Don't　they　approve　of　anything？'
　Lackjaw　was　lost　in　thought　for　a　moment。　'Setting　fire　to　things；'　he　said　at　last。　'They're　quite　good　at　that。　Books　and　stuff。　They　have　these　great　big　bonfires。'
　Cohen　was　shocked。
　'Bonfires　of　books？'
　'Yes。　Horrible；　isn't　it？'
　'Right；'　said　Cohen。　He　thought　it　was　appalling。　Someone　who　spent　his　life　living　rough　under　the　sky　knew　the　value　of　a　good　thick　book；　which　ought　to　outlast　at　least　a　season　of　cooking　fires　if　you　were　careful　how　you　tore　the　pages　out。　Many　a　life　had　been　saved　on　a　snowy　night　by　a　handful　of　sodden　kindling　and　a　really　dry　book。　If　you　felt　like　a　smoke　and　couldn't　find　a　pipe；　a　book　was　your　man　every　time。
　Cohen　realised　people　wrote　things　in　books。　It　had　always　seemed　to　him　to　be　a　frivolous　waste　of　paper。
　I'm　afraid　if　your　friends　met　them　they　might　be　in　trouble；'　said　Lackjaw　sadly　as　they　walked　up　the　street。
　They　turned　the　corner　and　saw　the　bonfire。　It　was　in　the　middle　of　the　street。　A　couple　of　star　people　were　feeding　it　with　books　from　a　nearby　house；　which　had　its　door　smashed　in　and　had　been　daubed　with　stars。
　News　of　Cohen　hadn't　spread　too　far　yet。　The　book　burners　took　no　notice　as　he　wandered　up　and　leaned　against　the　wall。　Curly　flakes　of　burnt　paper　bounced　in　the　hot　air　and　floated　away　over　the　rooftops。
　'What　are　you　doing？'　he　said。
　One　of　the　star　people；　a　woman；　pushed　her　hair　out　of　her　eyes　with　a　soot…blackened　hand；　gazed　intently　t　Cohen's　left　ear；　and　said；　'Ridding　the　disc　of　wickedness。'
　Two　men　came　out　of　the　building　and　glared　at　Cohen；　or　at　least　at　his　ear。
　Cohen　reached　out　and　took　the　heavy　book　the　woman　was　carrying。　Its　cover　was　crusted　with　strange　red　and　black　stones　that　spelled　out　what　Cohen　was　sure　was　a　word。　He　showed　it　to　Lackjaw。
　'The　Necrotelenicon；'　said　the　dwarf。　'Wizards　use　it。　It's　how　to　contact　the　dead；　I　think。'
　'That's　wizards　for　you；'　said　Cohen。　He　felt　a　page　between　finger　and　thumb；　it　was　thin；　and　quite　soft。　The　rather　unpleasant　organic…looking　writing　didn't　worry　him　at　all。　Yes；　a　book　like　this　could　be　a　real　friend　to　a　man　…
　'Yes？　You　want　something？'　he　said　to　one　of　the　star　men；　who　had　gripped　his　arm。
　'All　books　of　magic　must　be　burned；'　said　the　man；　but　a　little　uncertainly；　because　something　about　Cohen's　teeth　was　giving　him　a　nasty　feeling　of　sanity。
　'Why？'　said　Cohen。
　'It　has　been　revealed　to　us。'　Now　Cohen's　smile　was　as　wide　as　all　outdoors；　and　rather　more　dangerous。
　'I　think　we　ought　to　be　getting　along；'　said　Lackjaw　nervously。　A　party　of　star　people　had　turned　into　the　street　behind　them。
　'I　think　I　would　like　to　kill　someone；'　said　Cohen；　still　smiling。
　'The　star　directs　that　the　Disc　must　be　cleansed；'　said　the　man；　backing　away。
　'Stars　can't　talk；'　said　Cohen；　drawing　his　sword。
　'If　you　kill　me　a　thousand　will　take　my　place；'　said　the　man；　who　was　now　backed　against　the　wall。
　'Yes；'　said　Cohen；　in　a　reasonable　tone　of　voice；　'but　that　isn't　the　point；　is　it？　The　point　is；　you'll　be　dead。'
　The　man's　adam's　apple　began　to　bob　like　a　yoyo。　He　squinted　down　at　Cohen's　sword。
　'There　is　that；　yes；'　he　conceded。　'Tell　you　what　…　how　bout　if　we　put　the　fire　out？'　'Good　idea；'　said　Cohen。
　Lackjaw　tugged　at　his　belt。　The　other　star　people　were　running　towards　them。　There　were　a　lot　of　them；　many　of　them　were　armed；　and　it　began　to　look　as　though　things　would　bee　a　little　more　serious。
　Cohen　waved　his　sword　at　them　defiantly；　and　turned　and　ran。　Even　Lackjaw　had　difficulty　in　keeping　up。
　'Funny；'　he　gasped；　as　they　plunged　down　another　alley；　'I　thought　…　for　a　minute　…　you'd　want　to　stand　…　and　fight　them。'
　'Blow　that　…　for　a　…　lark。'
　As　they　came　out　into　the　light　at　the　other　end　of　the　alley　Cohen　flung　himself　against　the　wall；　drew　his　sword；　stood　with　his　head　on　one　side　as　he　judged　the　approaching　footsteps；　and　then　brought　the　blade　around　in　a　dead　flat　sweep　at　stomach　height。　There　was　an　unpleasant　noise　and　several　screams；　but　by　then　Cohen　was　well　away　up　the　street；　moving　in　the　unusual　shambling　run　that　spared　his　bunions。
　With　Lackjaw　pounding　along　grimly　beside　him　he　turned　off　into　an　inn　painted　with　red　stars；　jumped　onto　a　table　with　only　a　faint　whimper　of　pain；　ran　along　it　…　while；　with　almost　perfect　choreography；　Lackjaw　ran　straight　underneath　without　ducking　…　jumped　down　at　the　other　end；　kicked　his　way　through　the　kitchens；　and　came　out　into　another　alley。
　They　scurried　around　a　few　more　turnings　and　piled　into　a　doorway。　Cohen　clung　to　the　wall　and　wheezed　until　the　little　blue　and　purple　lights　went　away。
　'Well；'　he　panted；　'what　did　you　get？'
　'Um；　the　cruet；'　said　Lackjaw。
　'Just　that？'
　'Well；　I　had　to　go　under　the　table；　didn't　I？　You　didn't　do　so　well　yourself。'
　Cohen　looked　disdainfully　at　the　sma