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"Dat's me,"
"Your Armpit."
"They must make you proud. I don't know when I've ever seen a more stupid bunch of henchmen," said Cohen, admiring, "Harry, you're like a refreshin' fart in a roomful of roses. You bring 'em all along. I wouldn't hear of you staying behind."
"Nice to be appreciated," said Evil Harry, looking down and blushing. "And what else've you got to look forward to, anyway?" said Cohen. "Who really appreciates a good Dark Lord these days? The world's too complicated now. It don't belong to the likes of us any more ... it chokes us to death with cucumbers."
"What are you actually going to do, Cohen?" said Evil Harry. "... nork. nork."
"Well, I reckon it's time to go out like we started," said Cohen. "One last roll of the dice." He tapped the keg again. "It's time." he said, "to give something back."
" ... nork. nork."
"Shut up." Varieties of the Swamp Dragon 1 The Smooth Courser. Note elongation of the feems. 2 Rainkin's Optimist. Good-natured, seldom explodes.
3 The Nothingfjord Blue. Wonderful scales, but a tendency to homesickness. 4 The Smooth-nosed Smut. 5 The Big-nosed Jolly. Frightened of shovels. 6 The Rough-nosed Smut (elderly male). 7 Wivelspiker. Excitable. Walks into windows. 8 The Quirmian Long-ear. Mild-natured, but needs daily exercise. 9 Spiked Oncer. Rare, needs much attention. 10 The Classic Smut. A very popular dragon in the traditional mould. 11 Golden Deceiver. Makes a good watch dragon; should not be allowed near children. 12 Narrowed-Eared Smut. Nervous and therefore, short-lived. 13 The Lion-Headed Cowper. A large breed, easy to keep, but often afflicted with skipiets. 14 Tomkin's Neurovore. Handsome, but highly explosive due to nerves. 15 Porpoise-Headed Cowper. A breed for aficionados. 16 The Retiring Smut. Not often seen. 17 The Golden Rharn. 18 Birbright's Smut. Morbidly afraid of spoons. 19 Birbright's Lizard. Rare mountain breed, flightless. 20 Tabby Cowper. Best of the Cowpers, now quite popular. 21 Silver Regal. A classic breed, popular in Sto Lat. 22 Jessington's Blunt. Rare and very stupid. 23 Jessington's Deceiver. Small and better behaved than the Golden. Hoards pickle jars. 24 The Common Smut. The basic swamp dragon, familiar to all. 25 Pixy-faced Smut. Many congenital problem; for experts only. 26 The Flared Smut. Good with cabbage. 27 Homed Regal. Largely nocturnal, flightless, well-coloured, short in the wouters. 28 Smooth Deceiver. Good-natured, suitable for the smaller home. 29 Big-nosed Smut. Seldom breeds true. Attracted to mirrors. 30 Guttley's Leaper. Flightless, but can exceed 30 mph running over open ground. 31 Spike-nosed Regal. One of the most beautiful of the classic dragons. Hates shoes. 32 Broken-faced Cowper. Seldom seen these days. 33 The Pique. Small, flightless, lives indoors. Eats only chicken and furniture. 34 Curly-maned Slottie. Amiable, tendency to slimp, seldom explosive. 35 Avery's "Epolette", typical of the many miniature shoulder dragons. 36 Bridisian Courser. Not a very special dragon at all. 37 ,38 Male and female Spouters, a breed that flies very badly but makes a suitable pet for the less discriminating household. Explodes in the presence of mint. (from The Show Judges" Guide to Dragons, by Lady Sybil Ramkin, available from the Cavern Club Press, Ankh-Morpork, at AM$20) As night rays of light shone through holes and gaps in the tarpaulin, Lord Vetinari wondered if Leonard was getting any sleep. It was quite possible that the man had designed some sort of contrivance to do it for him. At the moment, there were other things to concern him. The dragons were travelling in a ship of their own. It was far too dangerous to have them on board anything else. Ships were made of wood, and even when in a good mood dragons puffed little balls of tire. When they were over-excited, they exploded.
"They will he all right, won't they?" he said, keeping well back from the cages. "If any of them are harmed I shall be in serious trouble with the Sunshine Sanctuary in Ankh-Morpork. This is not a prospect I relish. I assure you."
"Mr da Quirrn says there is no reason why they should not all get back safely, sir."
"And would you, Mister Stibbons, trust yourself in a contrivance pushed along by dragons?" Ponder swallowed. "I'm not the stuff of heroes, sir."
"And what causes this lack in you. may I ask?"
"I think it's because I've got an active imagination." This seemed a good explanation. Lord Vetinari mused as lie walked away. The difference was that while other people imagined in terms of thoughts and pictures. Leonard imagined in terms of shape and space. His daydreams came with a cutting list and assembly instructions. Lord Vetinari found himself hoping more and more for the success of his other plan. When all else fails, pray ... "All right now. lads, settle down. Settle down." Hughnon Ridcully, Chief Priest of Blind Io., looked down at the multitude of priests and priestesses that filled the huge Temple of Small Gods. He shared many of the characteristics of his brother Mustrum. He also saw his job as being, essentially, one of organiser. There were plenty of people who were good at the actual believing, and he left them to it. It took a lot more than prayer to make sure the laundry got done and the building was kept in repair. There were so many gods now ... at least two thousand. Many were, of course, still very small. But you had to watch them. Gods were very much a fashion thing. Look at Om, now. One minute he was a bloodthirsty little deity in some mad hot country, and then suddenly he was one of the top gods. It had all been done by not answering prayers, but doing so in a sort of dynamic way that left open the possibility that one day he might and then there'd he fireworks. Hughnon, who had survived through decades of intense theological dispute by being a mean man at swinging a heavy thurible, was impressed by this novel technique. And then, of course, you had your real newcomers like Aniger, Goddess of Squashed Animals. Who would have thought that better roads and faster carts would have led to that? But gods grew bigger when called upon at need, and enough minds had cried out, "Oh god, what was that I hit?"
"Brethren!" he shouted, getting tired of waiting. "And sistren!" The hubbub died away. A few flakes of dry and crumbling paint drifted down from the ceiling. "Thank you." said Ridcully. "Now, can you please listen? My colleagues and I," - and here he indicated the senior clergy behind him - "have. I assure you, been working for some time on this idea, and there is no doubt that it is theologically sound. Can we please get on?" He could still sense the annoyance among the priesthood. Born leaders didn't like being led. "If we don't try this," he tried, "the godless wizards may succeed with their plans. And a fine lot of mugginses we will look."
"This is all very well, hut the form of things is important!" snapped a priest. "We can't all pray at once! You know the gods don't like ecumenicalism! And what form of words will we use, pray?"
"I would have felt that a short non-controversial-" Hughnon Ridcully paused. In front of him were priests forbidden by holy edict from eating broccoli, priests who required unmarried girls to cover their ears lest they inflame the passions of other men, and priests who worshipped a small shortbread-and-raisin biscuit. Nothing was non-controversial. "You see, it does appear that the world is going to end." he said weakly.
"Well? Some of us have been expecting that for some considerable time! It will be a judgement on mankind for its wickedness!"
"Arid broccoli!"
"And the short haircuts girls are wearing today!"
"Only the biscuits will be saved!" Ridcully waved his crozier frantically for silence. "But this isn't the wrath of the gods." he said. "I did tell you! It's the work of a man!"
"Ah, but he may be the hand of a god!"
"It's Cohen the Barbarian." said Ridcully. "Even so, he might-" The speaker in the crowd was nudged by the priest next to him. "Hang on ..." There was a roar of excited conversation. There were few temples that hadn't been robbed or despoiled in a long life of adventuring, and the priests soon agreed that no god ever had anything in his hand that looked like Cohen the Barbarian. Hughnon turned his eyes up to the ceiling, with its beautiful but decrepit panorama of gods and heroes. Life must be a lot easier for gods, he decided. "Very well," said one of the objectors, haughtily. "In that case. I think perhaps we could, in these special circumstances, get around a table just this once."
"Ah, that is a good-" Ridcully began. "But of course we will need to give some very serious consideration as to what shape the table is going to be." Ridcully looked blank for a moment. His expression did not change as he leaned down to one of his sub-deacons and said, "Scallop, please have someone run along and tell my wife to pack my overnight bag, will you? I think this is going to take a little while ..." The central spire of Con Celesti seemed to get no closer day by day. "Are you sure Cohen's all right in the head?"" said Evil Harry, as he helped Boy Willie manoeuvre Hamish's wheelchair over the ice. "'ere, are you tryin" to spread discontent among the troops, Harry?"
"Well, I did warn you. Will, I am a Dark Lord. I've got to keep in practice. And we're following a leader who keeps forgetting where he put his false teeth."
"Whut?" said Mad Hamish. "I'm just saying that blowing up the gods could cause trouble." said Evil Harry. "It's a bit... disrespectful."
"You must've defiled a few temples in your time, Harry?"
"I ran 'em. Will. I ran 'em. I was a Mad Demon Lord for a while, you know. I had a Temple of Terror."
"Yes, on your allotment." said Boy Willie, grinning. "That's right, that's right, rub it in," said Harry sulkily. "Just because I was never in the big league, just because-"
"Now, now, Harry, you know we don't think like that. We respected you. You knew the Code. You kept the faith. Well. Cohen just reckons the gods've got it comin' to them. Now, me., I'm worried because there's some tough ground ahead." Evil Harry peered along the snowy canyon. "There's some kind of magic path leads up the mountain." Willie went on. "But there's a mass of caves before you get there."
