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Mort hurried out after hio with a critical expression, its jowls rhyth

'That hat they call a demon around here?' it said 'Offler rot this country of dampness, even their demons are third-rate, not a patch on the demons we had in the Old Country'

The wife placed a small bowl of rice in the folded one in the ) and stood back

'Husband did say that last month at the Curry Gardens he served a creature as not there,' she said 'He was impressed'

Ten minutes later the old coins on the table They represented enough wealth to purchase quite a large part of the city

'He had a bag of them,' he said

The fahed

'Riches bring many problems,' she said 'What are we to do?'

'We return to Klatch,' said the husband firrow up in a proper country, true to the glorious traditions of our ancient race and men do not need to work as waiters for wicked ht now, fragrant blosso son of the desert?'

'Because,' said the man, 'I have just sold the Patrician's champion racehorse'

The horse wasn't as fine or as fast as Binky, but it swept the miles away under its hooves and easily outdistanced a few uards who, for some reason, appeared anxious to talk to Mort Soon the shanty suburbs of Morpork were left behind and the road ran out into rich black earth country of the Sto plain, constructed over eons by the periodic flooding of the great slow Ankh that brought to the region prosperity, security and chronic arthritis

It was also extrealloped across a flat, chilly landscape, chequered with cabbage fields froes One h vitahage and commendable food value In the ; despite their claim to immense nutritional and moral superiority over, say, daffodils, they have never been a sight to inspire the poet's ry, of course It was only twenty less human experience it seeates of Sto Lat, although compared to the ones that patrolled Ankh they had a sheepish, a a bit of a fool, asked him ent there

'I'uard was new to the job, and quite keen Guarding wasn't what he'd been led to expect Standing around all day in chainpole wasn't what he'd volunteered for; he'd expected exciteo rusty in the rain

He stepped forward, ready to defend the city against people who didn't respect coiven by duly authorised civic e a few inches fro to be too much of this

'On the other hand,' he said calmly, 'hoould you like it if I made yon a present of this rather fine horse?'

It wasn't hard to find the entrance to the castle There were guards there, too, and they had crossbows and a considerably more unsympathetic outlook on life and, in any case, Mort had run out of horses He loitered a bit until they started paying hienerous amount of attention, and then wandered disconsolately away into the streets of the little city, feeling stupid

After all this, after miles of brassicas and a backside that now felt like a block of wood, he didn't even knohy he was there So she'd seen hi? Of course it didn't Only he kept seeing her face, and the flicker of hope in her eyes He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be all right He wanted to tell her about hi he wanted to be He wanted to find out which was her rooht went out And so on

A little later a blacksmith, whose business was in one of the narrow streets that looked out on to the castle walls, glanced up fro h the walls

Rather later than that a young man with a few superficial bruises on his head called in at one of the city's taverns and asked for directions to the nearest wizard

And it was later still that Mort turned up outside a peeling plaster house which announced itself on a blackened brass plaque to be the abode of Igneous Cutwell, DM (Unseen), Marster of the Infinit, Illuminartus, Wyzard to Princes, Gardian of the Sacred Portalls, If Out leave Maile with Mrs Nugent Next Door

Suitably i heart, Mort lifted the heavy knocker, which was in the shape of a repulsive gargoyle with a heavy iron ring in its mouth, and knocked twice

There was a brief commotion froht, in a less exalted house, have beenthe lunch plates into the sink and tidying the laundry out of sight

Eventually the door swung open, slowly and mysteriously

'You'd fbetter pretend to be impreffed,' said the doorknocker conversationally, but ha 'He does it with pulleys and a bit of ftring No good at opening-fpells, fee?'

Mort looked at the grinning h walls, he told hi?

'Thank you,' he said

'You're welcome Wipe your feet on the door low room inside was dark and shadowy and se arid elderly laundry and the kind of person who throws all his socks at the wall and wears the ones that don't stick There was a large crystal ball with a crack in it, an astrolabe with several bits ra froator is absolutely standard equipical establishh it hadn't enjoyed itaside with a draure stood revealed

'Beneficent constellations shine on the hour of our !' it boomed

'Which ones?' said Mort

There was a sudden worried silence

'Pardon?'

'Which constellations would these be?' said Mort

'Beneficent ones,' said the figure, uncertainly It rallied 'Why do you trouble Igneous Cutwell, Holder of the Eight Keys, Traveller in the Dungeon Die of --'

'Excuse me,' said Mort, 'are you really?'

'Really what?'

'Master of the thingy, Lord High Wossnaeons?'

Cutwell pushed back his hood with an annoyed flourish Instead of the grey-bearded mystic Mort had expected he saw a round, rather plump face, pink and white like a pork pie, which it somewhat resembled in other respects For example, like most pork pies, it didn't have a beard and, like ood-huurative sense,' he said