Unseen Academicals

loaf would have been a suitable aid to combat, but he was grinning–and grinning was good.
    If this ends up with no more than sniggering and grinning then we’ll all be happy, Glenda thought. Hard to live down afterwards, but still good.
    ‘But what’s that bloke chained to that bed for?’ said the bledlow.
    ‘Yeah, what kind of improper suggestions go on around here?’ said the baker. He really was having fun.
    I am going to kill someone before the end of all this and it might just have to be myself, thought Glenda.
    ‘Isn’t that Mister Nutt?’ said the bledlow. ‘We’re supposed to be in training in five minutes.’
    There was another clink behind Glenda and Nutt’s voice said, ‘Don’t worry, Alphonse, I often do this trick. Dynamic tension you know, helps build up the muscles.’
    ‘Alphonse?’ said the baker, looking incredulously at the bledlow. ‘I thought your name was Alfred, Alf for short. Alphonse is a Quirmian name if ever I’ve heard one. You’re not from there, are you?’ That was an accusation as much as a question.
    ‘What’s wrong with Alf being short for Alphonse?’ said the bledlow. He had very large hands that might have troubled even Mustrum Ridcully in a game of pat-a-cake. Also, his ears were going red, never a good sign in a man of his size.
    ‘Oh, I never said it wasn’t a nice name,’ said the baker, belatedly using his loaf. ‘But I would never have figured you for an Alphonse. It just goes to show that you never can tell.’
    ‘I am an orc,’ said Nutt quietly.
    ‘Actually, Alphonse is quite a nice name,’ the baker went on. ‘The phonse spoils it a bit, but the Alf I quite like.’ He paused and turned to Nutt. ‘What do you mean, “orc”?’
    ‘An orc,’ said Nutt again.
    And away in the distant central heating pipes there was a scream of ‘Awk! Awk!’
    ‘Don’t be daft, there’s no such thing as orcs any more. They all got killed off hundreds of years ago. Bloody hard to kill, too, I read somewhere,’ said a butler.
    ‘In the latter part of your statement you are substantially correct,’ said Nutt, still chained to the couch. ‘However, nevertheless, I am an orc.’
    Glenda looked down. ‘You told me you’re a goblin, Mister Nutt. You told me you’re a goblin.’
    ‘I was misinformed,’ said Nutt. ‘I know I am an orc. I think I have always known that I am an orc. I have opened the door and read the book and I know the truth of my soul and I am an orc, and for some reason I am an orc with a terrible urge to smoke a cigar.’
    ‘But they were like these big horrible monsters that wouldn’t stop fighting and were quite happy to tear off their own arm to use as a weapon,’ said Bledlow Nobbs (no relation). ‘There was an article about them in Bows & Ammo .’
    Every eye turned to Nutt’s arms. ‘Certainly that is the judgement of history,’ said Nutt. He looked up at Glenda. ‘I am so sorry,’ he said. ‘I disobeyed, everybody does it, you see. Schnouzentintle says as much in his book The Obedience of Disobedience . So I wondered what was in the cupboard. And I already had some expertise with lockpicks. I opened the cupboard, I read the book and…’His chains clinked as he shifted position. ‘I disobeyed. I think everybody does it. We are very good at hiding from ourselves what we do not want to know. Believe me; I was very good at keeping that from myself. But it leaks out, you see, in dreams and things when you have dropped your guard. I am an orc. There is no doubt about that.’
    ‘Okay, right, if you are an orc, right, then why are you not tearing my head off?’ said Bledlow Nobbs (no relation).
    ‘Would you like me to?’ said Nutt.
    ‘Well, as it happens, no!’
    ‘Who cares?’ said Trev. ‘It’s all ancient history anyway. These days you see vampires hangin’ around all over the place. An’ we’ve got trolls and golems and zombies and all kinds of people just graftin’ away. Who cares what ’appened ’undreds of years ago?’
    ‘Hang on a minute. Hang on a minute,’ said the butler. ‘He’s not tearing your head off ’cos he’s chained down.’
    ‘So, why did you get us to chain you down?’ said Glenda.
    ‘So I wouldn’t tear off anybody’s head. I suspected the truth, although I didn’t know what it was that I suspected. At least, I think it works like that.’
    ‘So that means you can’t escape and tear us all limb from limb,’ said Bledlow Nobbs (no relation). ‘No offence meant, but