The Last Continent

trial?” he shouted.
    After a while a warder wandered along the corridor. “Wha’d’yew want a trial for, mister?”
    “What? Well, call me Mister Silly, but it might just prove that I wasn’t trying to steal the damn sheep, mightn’t it?” said Rincewind. “I was in fact rescuing it. If only you people would track down the thief, he’d tell you!”
    The warder leaned against the wall and stuck his hands in his belt.
    “Yeah, well, it’s a funny thing,” he said, “but, y’know, we searched and searched and put up notices and everything but, funny thing, yew’ll never believe this, the bastard hasn’t had the decency to come forward? Makes yew despair of human nature, eh?”
    “So what’s going to happen to me?”
    The warder scratched his nose. “Gonna hang you by the neck until you’re dead, mate. Tomorrow morno.”
    “You couldn’t perhaps just hang me by the neck until I’m sorry?”
    “No, mate. Got to be dead.”
    “Good grief, it was only a sheep when all’s said and done!”
    The warder grinned widely. “Ah, a lot of men have gone to the gallows sayin’ that in the past,” he said. “s’matterofact, you’re the first sheep-stealer we’ve had here for years . All our big heroes have been sheep-stealers. You’re gonna get a big crowd.”
    “Baah!”
    “Maybe a flock, too,” said the warder.
    “That’s another thing,” said Rincewind. “Why’s this sheep in my cell?”
    “Evidence, mate.”
    Rincewind looked down at the sheep. “Oh. Well, no worries, then.”
    The warder wandered off. Rincewind sat down on the bunk.
    Well, he could look on the bright side, couldn’t he? This was civilization . He hadn’t seen much of it, what with being tied across the back of a horse and everything, but what he’d been able to see was full of ruts and hoofprints and smelled pretty bad, which civilization often does. They were going to hang him in the morning. This building was the first one made of stone he’d seen in this country. They had watchmen, even. They were going to hang him in the morning. There were the sounds of carts and people filtering in through the high window. They were going to hang him in the morning.
    He gazed around the cell. It looked as though whoever’d built it had unaccountably forgotten to include any useful trapdoors.
    Trapdoors…Now there was a word he shouldn’t think about.
    He’d been in nastier places than this. Much, much nastier. And that made it worse, because he’d been up against nasty, weird and magical things which suddenly seemed a lot easier to contemplate than the fact that he was held in some stone box and in the morning some perfectly nice people who he might quite like if he met them in a bar were going to march him out and make him stand on a really unsafe floor in a very tight collar.
    “Baah!”
    “Shut up.”
    “Baah?”
    “Couldn’t you have had a bath, or a dip or something? It’s a bit agricultural in here.”
    The wall, now his eyes had become accustomed to the gloom, was covered with scrawls, and in particular those little wicket gate tallies drawn by prisoners who were counting the days. They were going to hang him in the morning, so that was one chore he wouldn’t have to…Shut up, shut up.
    Now he came to look closer, most of the counts went up to one.
    He lay back with his eyes closed. Of course he’d get rescued, he’d always got rescued. Although, come to think of it, always in circumstances that put him in such a lot more danger than a prison cell usually held.
    Well, he’d been in enough cells. There were ways to handle these things. The important thing was to be direct. He got up and banged on the bars until the warder sauntered along the corridor.
    “Yes, mate?”
    “I just want to get things sorted out,” said Rincewind. “It’s not as though I’ve got time to waste, okay?”
    “Yep?”
    “Is there any chance that you’re going to fall asleep in a chair opposite this cell with your keys fully exposed on a table in front of you?”
    They looked at the empty corridor.
    “I’d have to get someone to help me bring a table down here,” said the warder doubtfully. “Can’t see it happening, mister. Sorry.”
    “Right. Okay.” Rincewind thought for a moment. “All right…Is my dinner likely to be brought in by a young lady carrying, and this is important, carrying a tray covered with a cloth ?”
    “No, ’cos I do the cooking.”
    “Right.”
    “Bread and water is what I’m good