Interesting Times

chocolate.”
    “Chocolate?”
    “You can never get a proper meal in these battles.”
    And this is me, thought Mr. Saveloy, marching down the street with heroes . They are the great fi—
    “And when in doubt, take all your clothes off,” said Caleb.
    “What for?”
    “Sign of a good berserk, taking all your clothes off. Frightens the hell out of the enemy. If anyone starts laughing, stab ’em one.”
    There was a movement among the blankets in the wheelchair.
    “Whut?”
    “I said, STAB ’EM ONE, Hamish.”
    Hamish waved an arm that looked like bone with skin on it, and apparently far too thin to hold the axe it was in fact holding.
    “That’s right! Right in the nadgers!”
    Mr. Saveloy nudged Caleb.
    “I ought to be writing this down,” he said. “Where exactly are the nadgers?”
    “Small range of mountains near the Hub.”
    “Fascinating.”

    The citizens of Hunghung were ranged along the city walls. It was not every day you saw a fight like this.
    Rincewind elbowed and kicked his way through the people until he reached the cadre, who’d managed to occupy a prime position over the main gate.
    “What’re you hanging around here for?” he said. “You could be miles away!”
    “We want to see what happens, of course,” said Twoflower, his spectacles gleaming.
    “I know what happens! The Horde will be instantly slaughtered!” said Rincewind. “What did you expect to happen?”
    “Ah, but you’re forgetting the invisible vampire ghosts,” said Twoflower.
    Rincewind looked at him.
    “What?”
    “Their secret army. I heard that we’ve got some, too. Should be interesting to watch.”
    “Twoflower, there are no invisible vampire ghosts.”
    “Ah, yes, everyone’s going round denying it,” said Lotus Blossom. “So there must be some truth in it.”
    “But I made it up!”
    “Ah, you may think you made it up,” said Twoflower. “But perhaps you are a pawn of Fate.”
    “Listen, there’s no—”
    “Same old Rincewind,” said Twoflower, in a jolly way. “You always were so pessimistic about everything, but it always worked out all right in the end.”
    “There are no ghosts, there are no magic armies,” said Rincewind. “There’s just—”
    “When seven men go out to fight an army 100,000 times bigger there’s only one way it can end,” said Twoflower.
    “Right. I’m glad you see sense.”
    “They’ll win,” said Twoflower. “They’ve got to. Otherwise the world’s just not working properly.”
    “You look educated,” said Rincewind to Butterfly. “Explain to him why he’s wrong. It’s because of a little thing we have in our country. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it—it’s called mathematics .”
    The girl smiled at him.
    “You don’t believe me, do you?” said Rincewind flatly. “You’re just like him. What d’you think this is, homeopathic warfare? The smaller your side the more likely you are to win? Well, it’s not like that. I wish it was like that, but it isn’t. Nothing is. There are no amazing strokes of luck, no magic solutions, and the good people don’t win because they’re small and plucky!” He waved his hand irritably at something.
    “ You always survived,” said Twoflower. “We had amazing adventures and you always survived.”
    “That was just coincidence.”
    “You kept on surviving.”
    “And you got us safely out of prison,” said Lotus Blossom.
    “There were just a lot of coinci— Will you go away! ”
    A butterfly skittered away from his flailing hand.
    “Damn things,” he mumbled. And added: “Well, that’s it. I’m off. I can’t watch. I’ve got things to do. Besides, afterwards I think nasty people are going to be looking for me.”
    And then he realized there were tears in Lotus Blossom’s eyes.
    “We…we thought you would do something,” she said.
    “Me? I can’t do anything! Especially not magic! I’m famous for it! Don’t go around believing that Great Wizards solve all your problems, because there aren’t any and they don’t and I should know because I’m not one!”
    He backed away. “This is always happening to me! I’m just minding my own business and everything goes wrong and suddenly everyone’s relying on me and saying, ‘Oh, Rincewind, what are you going to do about it?’ Well, what Mrs. Rincewind’s little boy, if she was a Mrs. Rincewind of course, what he’s going to do about it is nothing, right? You have to sort it all out yourselves! No mysterious magical