Hogfather

‘Me? Deaf as a post, me,’ burbled Ernie, who in some ways was a very quick learner. ‘Can’t hardly see more’n a few feet, neither. Got no recollection for them faces that I do see, come to that. Bad memory? Hah! Talk about bad memory. Cor, sometimes I can be like as it were on the cart, talking to people, hah, just like I’m talking to you now, and then when they’re gone, hah, try as I might, do you think I can remember anything about them or how many they were or what they were carrying or anything about any girl or anything?’ By this time his voice was a high-pitched wheeze. ‘Hah! Sometimes I forget me own name!’

‘It’s Ernie, isn’t it?’ said Teatime, giving him a happy smile. ‘Ah, and here we are. Oh dear. There seems to be some excitement.’

There was the sound of fighting somewhere ahead, and then a couple of masked trolls ran past with three Watchmen after them. They all ignored the cart.

‘I heard the De Bris gang were going to have a go at Packley’s strongroom tonight,’ said a voice behind Ernie.

‘Looks like Mr Brown won’t be joining us, then,’ said another voice. There was a snigger.

‘Oh, I don’t know about that, Mr Lilywhite, I don’t know about that at all,’ said a third voice, and this one was from the direction of the fountain. ‘Could you take my bag while I climb up, please? Do be careful, it’s a little heavy.’

It was a neat little voice. The owner of a voice like that kept his money in a shovel purse and always counted his change carefully. Ernie thought all this, and then tried very hard to forget that he had.

‘On you go, Ernie,’ said Teatime. ‘Round behind the University, I think.’

As the cart rolled on, the neat little voice said, ‘You grab all the money and then you get out very smartly. Am I right?’

There was a murmur of agreement.

‘Learned that on my mother’s knee, yeah.’

‘You learned a lot of stuff across your ma’s knee, Mr Lilywhite.’

‘Don’t you say nuffin’ about our mam!’ The voice was like an earthquake.

‘This is Mr Brown, Banjo. You smarten up.’

‘He dint ort to tork about our mam!’

‘All right! All right! Hello, Banjo … I think I may have a sweet somewhere … Yes, there you are. Yes, your ma knew the way all right. You go in quietly, you take your time, you get what you came for and you leave smartly and in good order. You don’t hang around at the scene to count it out and tell one another what brave lads you are, am I right?’

‘You seem to have done all right, Mr Brown.’ The cart rattled towards the other side of the square.

‘Just a little for expenses, Mr Catseye. A little Hogswatch present, you might say. Never take the lot and run. Take a little and walk. Dress neat. That’s my motto. Dress neat and walk away slowly. Never run. Never run. The Watch’ll always chase a running man. They’re like terriers for giving chase. No, you walk out slow, you walk round the corner, you wait till there’s a lot of excitement, then you turn around and walk back. They can’t cope with that, see. Half the time they’ll stand aside to let you walk past. “Good evening, officers,” you say, and then you go home for your tea.’

‘Wheee! Gets you out of trouble, I can see that. If you’ve got the nerve.’

‘Oh, no, Mr Peachy. Doesn’t get you out of. Keeps you out of.’

It was like a very good schoolroom, Ernie thought (and immediately tried to forget). Or a back-street gym when a champion prizefighter had just strolled in.

‘What’s up with your mouth, Banjo?’

‘He lost a tooth, Mr Brown,’ said another voice, and sniggered.

‘Lost a toot’, Mr Brown,’ said the thunder that was Banjo.

‘Keep your eyes on the road, Ernie,’ said Teatime beside him. ‘We don’t want an accident, do we …’

The road here was deserted, despite the bustle of the city behind them and the bulk of the University nearby. There were a few streets, but the buildings were abandoned. And something was happening to the sound. The rest of Ankh-Morpork seemed very far away, the sounds arriving as if through quite a thick wall. They were entering that scorned little corner of Ankh-Morpork that had long been the site of the University’s rubbish pits and was now known as the Unreal Estate.

‘Bloody wizards,’ muttered Ernie, automatically.

‘I beg your pardon?’ said Teatime.

‘My great-grandpa said we used t’own prop’ty round here. Low levels of magic, my arse! Hah, it’s all right for them wizards, they got all kindsa spells to protect ’em. Bit of magic here, bit of magic there … Stands to reason it’s got to go somewhere, right?’

‘There used to be warning signs up,’ said the neat voice from behind.

‘Yeah, well, warning signs in Ankh-Morpork might as well have “Good firewood” written on them,’ said someone else.