Free Eric by Terry Pratchett Page B

head turned as though it was being dragged.
    “Why?” he said, and then came up with the obvious answer at the same time as Eric: “Because you get to work in a 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 in 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.
    “Right.” Lavaeolus didn’t look around. “O- kay .” He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s sort this out, and then we can get an early night. Would you care to accompany me? Your pet might be useful.”
    “What are we going to do?” said Rincewind suspiciously.
    “We’re just going to meet some people.”
    “Is it dangerous?”
    A stone smashed through the roof of a building nearby.
    “No, not really,” said Lavaeolus. “Compared to staying out here, I mean. And if the rest of them try to storm the place, you know, in a proper military way—”
    The hole led into a tunnel. The tunnel, after winding a bit, led to stairs. Lavaeolus mooched along it, occasionally kicking bits of fallen masonry as if he had a personal grudge against them.
    “Er,” said Rincewind, “where does this lead?”
    “Oh, it’s just a secret passageway into the center of the citadel.”
    “You know, I thought it would be something like that,” said Rincewind. “I’ve got an instinct for it, you know. And I expect all the really top Tsorteans will be up there, will they?”
    “I hope so,” said Lavaeolus, trudging up the steps.
    “With lots of guards?”
    “Dozens, I imagine.”
    “Highly trained, too?”
    Lavaeolus nodded. “The best.”
    “And this is where we’re going,” said Rincewind, determined to explore the full horror of the plan as one probes the site of a rotting tooth.
    “That’s right.”
    “All six of us.”
    “And your box, of course.”
    “Oh, yes,” said Rincewind, making a face in the darkness.
    The sergeant tapped him gently on the shoulder and leaned forward.
    “Don’t you worry about the captain, sir,” he said. “He’s got the finest