Jingo. Part 45

"Better to die in battle than in bed, they say." She cracked a toothless grin. "But there are good ways for a man to die in bed, eh, Beti?"

n.o.bby hoped the glow of his ears wasn't singeing his veil. Suddenly, he felt he'd caught up with his future. Ten d.a.m.n pence' worth of it hit him in the face.

"'scuse me," he said. "Are any of you Nubilians?"

"What are Nubilians?" said Bana.

"It's a country round here," said n.o.bby. He added hopefully, "Isn't it?"

Not a single face suggested that this was so.

n.o.bby sighed. His hand reached up to his ear for a cigarette end, but it came down again empty.

"I'll tell you this, girls," he said. "I wish I'd settled for the ten-dollar version. Don't you just sometimes want to sit down and cry?"

"You look even sadder than Netal," said Bana. "Isn't there some way we can cheer you up?"

n.o.bby stared at her for a moment, and then started to sob.

Everyone was staring at Colon, their food halfway to their lips.

"Did I just hear him say that. Faifal? What do I want to be on a camel for? I'm a plumber!"

"He is the down with the juggler. I think The poor man is several palms short of an oasis."

"I mean the b.l.o.o.d.y things spit and they're a b.u.g.g.e.r to get up the stairs with your toolbox-"

"Now, come on it's not his fault, let's show a little charity." The speaker cleared his throat. "Good morning, friend," he said. "May we invite you to share our couscous?"

Sergeant Colon peered at the bowl, and then dipped in a finger and tasted it.

"Hey, this is semolina! You've got semolina semolina! It's just ordinary semol-" He stopped, and coughed. "Yeah, right. Thanks. Got any strawberry jam?"

The host looked at his friends. They shrugged.

"We know not of this 'strawberry hjam' of which you speak," he said carefully. "We prefer it with lamb." He offered Colon a long wooden skewer.

"Oh, you gotta have strawberry jam," said Colon, carried away. "When we were kids we'd stir it in and...and..." He looked at their faces. "O'course, that was back in Ur," he said.

The men nodded at one another. Suddenly it was all clear.

Colon belched loudly.

From the looks he got from everyone else, he was the only one who'd heard of this common Klatchian custom.

"So," he said, "where's the army these days? Approximately?"

"Why do you ask, o full-of-gas one?"

"Oh, we thought we could make a bit of cash entertaining the troops," said Colon. He was immensely proud of this idea. "You know...a smile, a song, a lack of exotic dancing. But that means we got to know where they are, see?"

"Excuse me, fat one, but can you understand what I am saying?"

"Yes, it's very tasty," Colon hazarded.

"Ah, I thought so. So he's a spy. But whose?"

"Really? Who would be so stupid as to use a joke like this as a spy?"

"Ankh-Morpork?"

"Oh, come on! He's pretending to be an Ankh-Morpork spy, perhaps. But they're cunning over there"

"You think? A people who make curry out of something called powder and you think they're clever?"

"I reckon he's from Muntab. They're always watching us."

"And pretending to be from Ankh-Morpork?"

"Well, if you were trying to look like a joke Morporkian pretending to be Klatchian, wouldn't you look like that?"

"But why'd he pretend to be from there?"

"Ah...politics."

"Let's call the Watch, then."

"Are you mad? We've been talking to him! They will be...inquisitive."

"Good point. I know..."

Faifal gave Colon a big grin.

"I did hear the entire army has marched away to En al Sams la Laisa En al Sams la Laisa," he said. "But don't tell anyone."

"Have they?" Colon glanced at the other men. They were watching him with curiously deadpan expressions.

"Sounds like a ma.s.sive place, with a name like that," he said.

"Oh, huge," said his neighbor. One of the other men made a noise that you might think was a suppressed chuckle.

"It's a long way, is it?"

"No, very close. You're practically on top of it," said Faifal. He nudged a colleague, whose shoulders were shaking.

"Oh, right right. Big army, is it?"

"Could easily be very big, yes."

"Fine. Fine," said Colon. "Er...anyone got a pencil? I could've sworn I had one when-"

There was a noise outside the tavern. It was the sound of many women laughing, which is always a disquieting noise to men.* Customers peered suspiciously through the vines. Customers peered suspiciously through the vines.

Colon and the rest of the crowd looked around an urn at the group by the well. An old lady was rolling on the ground, laughing, and various younger ones were leaning against one another for support.

He heard one of them say, "What did he say again?"

"He said, 'That's funny, it's never done that when I've I've tried it!'" tried it!'"

"Yeah, that's that's true!" cackled the old woman. "It never does!" true!" cackled the old woman. "It never does!"

"'That's funny, it's never done that when I've tried it,'" n.o.bby repeated.

Colon groaned. That was the voice and tone of Corporal n.o.bbs in storytelling mode, when wood could scorch at ten yards.

"'scuse me," he muttered, and forced his way through the press to the gateway.

"Have you heard the one about the ki...the sultan who was afraid his wife...one of his wives...would be unfaithful to him while he was away?"

"We haven't heard any any stories like stories like these these, Beti!" Bana gasped.

"Really? Oh, I've got a thousand and one of 'em. Well, anyway, he went and saw the wise old blacksmith, right, and he he said-" said-"

"You can't go round telling stories like that, cor-Beti," Colon panted as he lumbered to a halt.

n.o.bby realized that a change had come over the group. Now he was surrounded by women who were in the presence of a man. A known man, he corrected himself.

Several of them were blus.h.i.+ng. They hadn't blushed before.

"Why not?" said Beti nastily.

"You'll offend people," said Colon uncertainly.

"Er, we are not offended, sir," said Bana, in a small humble voice. "We think Beti's stories are very...instructive. Especially the one about the man who went into the tavern with the very small musician."

"And that was pretty hard to translate," said n.o.bby, "because they don't really know what a piano is is in Klatch. But it turns out there's this kind of stringed-" in Klatch. But it turns out there's this kind of stringed-"

"And it was very interesting about the man with his arms and legs in plaster," said Netal.

"Yeah, and they laughed even though they don't have the same kind of doorbells here," said n.o.bby. "Here, you don't have to go-"

But the group around the well was dispersing. Water jugs were being picked up and carried away. A kind of preoccupied busyness came over the women.

Bana nodded at Beti. "Er...thank you. It's been very...interesting. But we must go. It was so kind of you to talk to us."

"Er, no, don't go..."

A faint suggestion of perfume hung in the air.

Beti glared at Colon. "Sometimes I really want to give you a right ding alongside the lughole," she growled. "My first b.l.o.o.d.y chance in years years and you-" and you-"

She stopped. There was a crowd of puzzled yet disapproving faces behind Colon.

And things might have ended otherwise had it not been for the braying of the donkey, from above.

The stolen donkey, easily pulling away from n.o.bby's inexpert tether, had wandered off in search of food. She vaguely a.s.sociated this with the doorway to her stable and therefore with doorways in general, and so had wandered through the nearest open one.

There had been some narrow spiral stairs inside, but her stall was pretty narrow and steps didn't worry a donkey that was used to the streets of Al-Khali.

It was only a disappointment when the steps came to an end and there was still still no hay. no hay.

"Oh no," said someone behind Colon. "There's a donkey up the minaret again again."

There were groans all round.

"What's wrong with that? What goes up must come down," said Colon.

"You don't know?" said one of his dining companions. "You don't have minarets minarets in Ur?" in Ur?"

"Er-" said Colon.

"We have plenty of donkeys," said Lord Vetinari. There was general laughter, most of it directed at Colon.

One of the men pointed to the dim interior of the minaret.

"Look...see?"

"A very narrow, winding staircase," said the Patrician. "So...?"

"There's nowhere to turn at the top, right? Oh, any fool can get a donkey up up a minaret. But have you ever tried getting an animal to go backward down a narrow staircase in the dark? Can't be done." a minaret. But have you ever tried getting an animal to go backward down a narrow staircase in the dark? Can't be done."

"There's something about a rising staircase," said someone else. "It attracts donkeys. They think there's something at the top."

"We had to push the last one off, didn't we?" said one of the guards.

"Right. It splashed," said his comrade in arms.

"No one is pus.h.i.+ng Valerie off'f anything anything," snarled Beti. "Any one of you tries anything like that and, s'welp me, you'll feel the wrong end of-" He stopped, and a wide horrible grin appeared behind the veil. "I mean, I'll give you a great big soppy kiss kiss."

Several men at the back of the crowd took to their heels.

"There's no need to get nasty," said the guard.

"I mean mean it!" said Beti, advancing. it!" said Beti, advancing.