Discworld 27 - The Last Hero by Terry Pratchett Read Free Book Online

live by the law but you had to live by the Code.
“Men with bits of paper,” said Caleb.
There was another group nod. The Horde were not great readers. Paper was
the enemy, and so were the men who wielded it. Paper crept around you and
took over the world.
“We always liked you, Harry,” said Cohen. “You played it by the rules.
How about it... are you coming with us?”
Evil Harry looked embarrassed. “Well, I'd like to.” he said. “But...
well, I'm Evil Harry. right? You can't trust me an inch. First chance I
get, I'll betray you all, stab you in the back or something ... I'd have
to, see? Of course, if it was up to me. it'd be different... but I've got
a reputation to think about, right? I'm Evil Harry. Don't ask me to
come.”
“Well spake,” said Cohen. “I like a man I can't trust. You know where you
stand with an untrustworthy man. It's the ones you ain't never sure about
who give you grief. You come with us, Harry. You're one of us. And your
lads,too. New ones, I see ...” Cohen raised his eyebrows.
“Well, yeah, you know how it is with the really stupid henchmen.” said
Evil. “This is Slime-”
“... nork nork,” said Slime.
“Ah, one of the old Stupid Lizard Men,” said Cohen. “Good to see there's
one left. Hey, two left. And this one is-?”
“ ... nork nork.”
“He's Slime, too.” said Evil Harry, patting the second lizard man
gingerly to avoid the spikes. "Never good at remembering more than one
     
 
   
name, your basic lizard man. Over here we have ...“ He nodded at
something vaguely like a dwarf, who gave him an imploring look.
”You're Armpit,“ prompted Evil Harry.
”Your Armpit,“ said Armpit gratefully.
” ... nork nork,“ said one of the Slimes, in case this remark had been
addressed to him.
”Well done, Harry,“ said Cohen. ”It's damn hard to find a really stupid
dwarf.“
”Wasn't easy, I can tell you,“ Harry admitted proudly as he moved on. And
this is Butcher.”
“Good name, good name,” said Cohen, looking up at the enormous fat man.
“Your jailer, right?”
“Took a lot of finding,” said Evil Harry, while Butcher grinned happily
at nothing. “Believes anything anyone tells him, can't see through the
most ridiculous disguise, would let a transvestite washerwomen go free
even if she had a beard you could camp in, falls asleep real easily on a
chair near the bars and-”
“-carries his keys on a big hook on his belt so's they can be easily
lifted off!” said Cohen. “Classic. A master touch, that. And you've got
troll, I see.”
“Dat's me,” said the troll.
“... nork, nork.”
“Dat's me.”
“Well, you've got to have a troll, haven't you?” said Evil Harry. “Bit
brighter than I'd like, but he's got no sense of direction and can't
remember his name,”
“And what do we have here?” said Cohen. “A real old zombie? Where did you
dig him up? I like a man who's not afraid to let all his flesh fall off.”
“Gak.” said the zombie.
“No tongue, eh?” said Cohen. “Don't worry, lad. a blood-curdling screech
is all you need. And a few bits of wire, by the look of it. It's all a
matter of style.”
“Dat's me.”
“... nork nork.”
“Gak.”
“Dat's me,”
“Your Armpit.”
“They must make you proud. I don't know when I've ever seen a more stupid
bunch of henchmen,” said Cohen, admiring, “Harry, you're like a
refreshin' fart in a roomful of roses. You bring 'em all along. I
wouldn't hear of you staying behind.”
“Nice to be appreciated,” said Evil Harry, looking down and blushing.
“And what else've you got to look forward to, anyway?” said Cohen. “Who
really appreciates a good Dark Lord these days? The world's too
complicated now. It don't belong to the likes of us any more ... it
chokes us to death with cucumbers.”
“What are you actually going to do, Cohen?” said Evil Harry.
“... nork. nork.”
“Well, I reckon it's time to go out