The faint, distant hunting horns of sheer terror began to sound in the back ofher mind. Had the woman asked Glenda her name? No! But she’d certainly known itand how would she know about the ‘cook’ at Unseen University? And she’d been soquick, she’d worked out the Ploughman’s Pie with a snap of her fingers. Thatlittle part of her that had first been liberated by the sherry chimed in with,The trouble with you is that you make assumptions. You see something and youthink you know what you’ve seen. She certainly didn’t sound like a librarian,did she?

Very slowly, Glenda raised her right hand into a fist and lowered it into hermouth, and bit down very hard in an attempt to somehow retrieve the lastfifteen minutes from the records of the universe and replace them withsomething far less embarrassing, like her knickers falling down.

Even here, late into the night, the forge was the heart of attention. Coacheswere arriving and leaving constantly. The inn did not run according to the sun,it ran according to the timetable, and aimless people waiting for theirconnections gravitated to the forge as a free show and a place of comfort inthe chilly night air.

Nutt was shoeing a horse. Trev had seen horses being shod before, but neverlike this. The animal stood as if transfixed, trembling very slightly. WhenNutt wanted it to move, he clicked his tongue. When he wanted its leg raised,another click caused this to happen. Trev felt that he wasn’t watching a manshoeing a horse, but a master demonstrating his skills to a world of amateurs.When the shoe was on, the horse walked backwards in front of the crowd, for allthe world like a fashion model, turning as Nutt moved a hand or made a clickingnoise. It didn’t seem to be a particularly happy horse, but, great heavens, itwas certainly an obedient one. ‘Yes, that all seems fine,’ Nutt said.

‘How much is that going to cost us?’ said the coachman. ‘Wonderful job, if Imay say so.’

‘How much? How much? How much?’ said Nutt, turning it over in his mind. ‘Have Iearned worth, sir?’

‘I should say so, mate. I’ve never seen a horse shod as smooth as that.’

‘Then worth will do,’ said Nutt. ‘And a ride for myself and my three friendsback to Ankh-Morpork.’

‘An’ five dollars,’ said Trev, coming away from his lounging spot near the wallwith the speed of money.

The coachman sniffed. ‘A bit steep,’ he said.

‘What?’ said Trev. ‘For a late-night job? To better than Burleigh andStronginthearm specification? Not a bad deal, I think.’

A murmur from the other watchers backed Trev up. ‘I never seen anyone doanything like that,’ said Juliet. ‘He’d ’ave ’ad that ’orse dancing if you’dasked ’im.’

The coachman winked at Trev. ‘All right, lad. What can I say? Old Havacookthere is a good lad, but a bit bad tempered, as it goes. Once kicked a coachmanthrough the wall. I never thought I’d see him stand there and lift ’is leg uplike a trained lap-dog. Your chum has earned his money and his ride.’

‘Please take him away,’ said Nutt. ‘But hold him with care because when he getsa little way away from me he might get a tiny bit frisky.’

The crowd dispersed. Nutt methodically damped down the forge and started topack his tools into the box. ‘If we’re going to go back, we’d better go now.Has anyone seen Miss Glenda?’

‘Here,’ said Glenda, advancing out of the shadows. ‘Trev, you and Jools go andget us some seats on the coach. I need to talk to Mister Nutt.’

‘Her ladyship was here,’ said Glenda when they’d gone.

‘I would not be surprised,’ said Nutt calmly, snapping the catches shut on hisbox. ‘Just about everybody passes through here and she travels a great deal.’

‘Why were you running away?’

‘Because I know what will happen,’ said Nutt. ‘I am an orc. It’s as simple asthat.’

‘But the people on the bus were on your side,’ said Glenda.

Nutt flexed his hands and the claws slid out, just for a moment. ‘Andtomorrow?’ he said. ‘And if something goes wrong? Everybody knows orcs willtear your arms off. Everybody knows orcs will tear your head off. Everybodyknows these things. That is not good.’

‘Well, then, why are you coming back?’ Glenda demanded.

‘Because you are kind and came after me. How could I refuse? But it does notchange the things that everybody knows.’

‘But every time you make a candle and every time you shoe a horse, you changethe things that everybody knows,’ said Glenda. ‘You know that orcs were—’ Shehesitated. ‘Sort of made?’

‘Oh, yes, it was in the book.’

She nearly exploded. ‘Well, then, why didn’t you tell me?!’

‘Is it important? We are what we are now.’

‘But you don’t have to be!’ Glenda yelled. ‘Everybody knows trolls eat peopleand spit them out. Everybody knows dwarfs cut your legs off. But at the sametime everybody knows that what everybody knows is wrong. And orcs didn’t decideto be like they are. People will understand that.’

‘It will be a dreadful burden.’

‘I’ll help!’ Glenda was shocked at the speed of her response and then mumbled,‘I’ll help.’

The coals in the forge crackled as they settled down. Fires in a busy forgeseldom die out completely. After a while, Glenda said, ‘You wrote that poem forTrev, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, Miss Glenda. I hope she liked it.’

Glenda thought she’d better raise this carefully. ‘I think I ought to tell youthat she didn’t understand a lot of the words exactly. I sort of had totranslate it for her.’ It hadn’t been too difficult, she reckoned. Most lovepoems were pretty much the same under the curly writing.

‘Did you like it?’ said Nutt.

‘It was a wonderful poem,’ said Glenda.

‘I wrote it for you,’ said Nutt. He was looking at her with an expression thatstirred together fear and defiance in equal measure.

The cooling embers brightened up at this. After all, a forge has a soul. As ifthey had been waiting there, the responses lined themselves up in front ofGlenda’s tongue. Whatever you do next is going to be very important, she toldherself. Really, extremely, very important. Don’t start wondering about whatMary the bloody housemaid would do in one of those cheap novels you read,because Mary was made up by someone with a name suspiciously like an anagramfor people like you. She is not real and you are.

‘We had better get on the coach,’ said Nutt, picking up his box.

Glenda gave up on the thinking and burst into tears. It has to be said thatthey were not the gentle tears they would have been from Mary the housemaid,but the really big long-drawn-out blobby ones you get from someone who veryrarely cries. They were gummy, with a hint of snot in there as well. But theywere real. Mary the housemaid would just not have been able to match them.

So, of course, it will be just like Trev Likely to turn up out of the shadowsand say, ‘They’re calling the coach now—Are you two all right?’

Nutt looked at Glenda. Tears aren’t readily retractable, but she managed tobalance a smile on them. ‘I believe this to be the case,’ said Nutt.

Travelling on a fast coach, on even a mild autumn night, those passengers onthe roof experience the temperature that can freeze doorknobs. There areleather covers and rugs of various age, thickness and smell. Survival is onlypossible by wrapping yourself in the biggest cocoon you can achieve, preferablywith somebody else next to you; two people can heat up faster than one. Intheory, all of this could lead to hanky panky, but the seats of the coach andthe rockiness of the road mean that such things are not uppermost in thetraveller’s mind, which dreams longingly of cushions. Furthermore, there was afine rain now.

Juliet craned her head to look at the seats behind, but there were just themounds of damp rugs that were the coach company’s answer to the cold night air.‘You don’t think they’re sweet on each other, do you?’ she said.