Read Discworld 27 - The Last Hero for Free Online Page B

me tell
you.“
”Me and Evil Harry go way back,“ said Cohen, rolling a cigarette. ”I knew
him when he was starting up with just two lads and his Shed of Doom.“
”And Slasher, the Steed of Terror,“ Evil Harry pointed out.
”Yes, but he was a donkey, Harry,“ Cohen pointed out.
”He had a very nasty bite on him, though. He'd take your finger off as
soon as look at you,“
”Didn't I fight you when you were the Doomed Spider God?“ said Caleb.
”Probably. Everyone else did. They were great days,“ said Harry. ”Giant
spiders is always reliable, better'n octopussies, even.“ He sighed. ”And
then, of course, it all changed.“
They nodded. It had all changed.
”They said I was an evil stain covering the face of the world,“ said
Harry. ”Not a word about bringing jobs to areas of traditionally high
unemployment. And then of course the big boys moved in, and you can't
compete with an out-of-town site. Anyone heard of Ning the
Uncompassionate?“
”Sort of,“ said Boy Willie. ”I killed him.“
”You couldn't have done! What was it he always said? “I shall revert to
this vicinity!”“
”Sort of hard to do that,“ said Boy Willie, pulling out a pipe and
beginning to fill it with tobacco, ”when your head's nailed to a tree.“
”How about Pamdar the Witch Queen?“ said Evil Harry. ”Now there was-“
”Retired,“ said Cohen.
”She'd never retire!“
”Got married,“ Cohen insisted. ”To Mad Hamish.“
”Whut?“
”I SAID YOU MARRIED PAMDAR, HAMISH,“ Cohen shouted.
”Hehehehe, I did that! Whut?“
”That was some time ago, mark you,“ said Boy Willie. ”I don't think it
lasted.“
”But she was a devil woman!“
”We all get older, Harry. She runs a shop now. Pam's Pantry. Makes
marmalade,“ said Cohen.
”What? She used to queen it on a throne on top of a pile of skulls!“
”I didn't say it was very good marmalade."
     
 
   
“How about you, Cohen?” said Evil Harry. “I heard you were an Emperor.”
“Sounds good, doesn't it?” said Cohen mournfully. “But you know what?
It's dull. Everyone creepin' around hem' respectful, no one to fight, and
those soft beds give you backache. All that money, and nothin' to spend
it on 'cept toys. It sucks all the life right out of you, civilisation.”
“It killed Old Vincent the Ripper,” said Boy Willie. “He choked to death
on a concubine.”
There was no sound but the hiss of snow in the fire and a number of
people thinking fast.
“I think you mean cucumber,” said the bard.
“That's right, cucumber,” said Boy Willie. “I've never been good at them
long words.”
“Very important difference in a salad situation.” said Cohen. He turned
back to Evil Harry. “That's no way for a hero to die, all soft and fat
and eating big dinners. A hero should die in battle.”
“Yeah, but you lads've never got the hang of dying,” Evil Harry pointed
out.
“That's because we haven't picked the right enemies,” said Cohen. “This
time we're going to see the gods.” He tapped the barrel he was sitting
on, and the other members of the Horde winced when he did so. “Got
something here that belongs to them.” Cohen added.
He glanced around the group and noted some almost imperceptible nods.
“Why don't you come with us. Evil Harry?” he said. “You can bring your
evil henchmen.”
Evil Harry drew himself up. “Hey, I'm a Dark Lord! How'd it look if I was
to go around with a bunch of heroes?”
“It wouldn't look anything,” said Cohen sharply. “And I'll tell you for
why, shall I? We're the last, see. Us and you. No one else cares. There's
no more heroes, Evil Harry. No more villains, neither.”
“Oh, there's always villains!” said Evil Harry.
“No, there's vicious evil underhand bastards, true enough. But they use
laws now. They'd never call themselves Evil Harry.”
“Men who don't know the Code,” said Boy Willie. Everyone nodded. You
mightn't