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asperated, which, as a true son of Quirm, I consider perfectly acceptable.
‘However, for you, my friend, zis is difficult because we don’t sell our birthright unless, that is, the price is extremely ’igh. And, when the news gets out about the railway the price will be extremely ’igh: you will, as my wife says, ’ave to pay “dans le nez”. I think, my friend, you will ’ave to find another route from here to Quirm City if you want to get ze job done before les poules auront des dents.’
He hesitated for a moment and said, ‘Come with me to ze library. I want to show you some maps.’
In a large and ornate room, filled with the heads of many stuffed animals – or at least probably stuffed – and a stench of old formaldehyde, Moist pored over a large map which the Marquis had pulled out of an old chest.
Pointing to what seemed to be a rather empty part of the map, the Marquis said, ‘Most country ’ere is worthless land, maquis all the way, nothing to mine except ochre, and precious little of zat too. It’s more or less a wasteland, covered in scrub zat would tear your boots off and with nothing to induce people to be zere. Badlands, you might say, ’ome to rogues on the run, highwaymen, bandits and occasionally smugglers, all of them extremely nasty and armed to ze teeth. Oh, the government makes a play of getting rid of them every so often, but that isn’t all. There are goblins and zey know nothing about land rights.’
‘We’ve now come to terms with goblins in Ankh-Morpork,’ said Moist quickly. ‘It’s a matter of finding something for them to do that they really like doing and are good at and, of course, after that it’s just a case of remembering their names and refraining from kicking them. They can be extremely helpful if unkicked, although not necessarily likeable.’
‘I wish we could get on decent terms with zem,’ said the Marquis wistfully, ‘but these, you must understand, are Quirm goblins, and therefore extremely argumentative and intractable and on top of it, often drunk. They brew their own wine for ’eavens’ sake.’ He thought for a moment and then corrected himself, ‘Or, rather, a wine-like substance.’
‘That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?’ said Moist.
‘Really? They brew ze wine from snails. From the fruit of the wall, as you call it in Ankh-Morpork. It makes zem extremely rowdy, but zey would probably be okay if it wasn’t for the bandits, who ’unt them for fun.’
‘So do the bandits own the maquis?’ said Moist.
The Marquis hesitated. ‘No, it is indeed no man’s land. I suppose if we talk to lawyers, they will say it’s owned literally by ze state of Quirm in its entirety.’
‘Well, sir, since it appears that the state of Quirm is gagging to have the railway, even if the landowners aren’t, and if you can assure me of the land rights issue, I’ll be very happy to do them a favour.’
The Marquis grimaced. ‘Unfortunately, it’s not as simple as zat. We are not difficult people, but the government drags its feet when it comes to cleaning out ze bandits, because, as you understand, bandits and governments ’ave so much in common that they might be interchangeable anywhere in the world … I see you smiling, Mister Lipwig. Is something amusing?’
‘Many bandits?’
‘A considerable amount. This whole area is rather spoiled by them – unpleasant bandits who would cheerfully commit murder if and when zey think zey can get away with it. I ’ave to tell you that if you are in a ’urry to clear the maquis of bandits, I’m afraid, Mister Ankh-Morpork, you might ’ave to do it yourself. And I see you are still smiling! Will you be so good as to share ze joke? The well-known so-called Ankh-Morpork sense of ’umour does not translate very well here, I’m afraid.’
‘Don’t be,’ said Moist. ‘When the humours were handed out, Ankh-Morpork got the one for joking and Quirm had to make do with their expertise in fine dining and love-making.’
He held a beat and said, ‘Would you fancy a trade?’
The Marquise giggled into her wine, smiled at Moist and winked, while her husband grinned and said solemnly, ‘I think, monsieur, we prefer the status quo.’
And Moist, who had almost but not totally embarrassed himself, said, ‘Sir, apart from the goblins, do any decent people live in those badlands?’
The Marquis shook his head. ‘No, certainly not, they’re as dry as dust.’
Moist looked thoughtful for a while, then stood up, bowed to both of them, kissed the hand of the Marquise and said, ‘Thank you so much for your hospitality and your help and information. I should get away now if I’m to make the overnight coach back to Ankh-Morpork, but I have a funny feeling that happier circumstances will soon prevail. In fact, I can feel them just floating in the air.’
Ankh-Morpork was full of dwarf bars, big and small, accommodating all comers. The gloom of the Dirty Rat was particularly popular with those who preferred a traditional style of establishment and a definite lack of umbrellas in their drinks.
‘Knocking down clacks towers. What good does that do us? My old granny lives under a clacks tower and the lads let her send clackses for nothing.’
In the shadows somebody said, ‘You shouldn’t allow her to do that. The clacks is for humans.’
And then the quarrel began.
‘You’ve got to admit the clacks is useful sometimes. It’d save a ship at sea, I heard. And anyway it helps you keep in touch with your friends.’
The voice from the dark corner said again, ‘Don’t touch the clacks towers, then. There are other ways. I’ve seen the locomotives. It should be easy enough to turn one over on the rails.’
‘Oh yeah? And why d’you want to do that?’
‘It’ll show that us dwarfs are not to be trifled with and anyway, I’m hearing that dwarfs aren’t being allowed to work on the railway.’
‘I hadn’t heard that. That’s discrimination.’
