The wizards spent a long time simply watching the storm. Even the wizards from Ank-Morpork for whom rain was nothing new, couldn't help but be impressed by the scale and the magnitude of this storm; after all it did have thousands of years' worth of rain to disgorge. It wasn't long however before the wizards retreated back inside Bugarup University. It was amazing how rapidly the novelty of rain wore off, even if you'd never seen any before. Bugarup's wizards, and soon enough most of its citizens, quickly concluded that while this new rain stuff was obviously useful and lots of fun for a short length of time, it was bestexperienced inside, somewhere nice and cosy, with a good roof and maybe some board games. They were all soon ensconced in the great hall where someone had lit a fire and both universities were stood around it swapping chitchat and gently steaming.

Mrs. Whitlow helped the Librarian to his feet and led him inside Bugarup University out of the rain. Archchancellor Rincewind went over to his supine cousin and nudged him with a sopping sandal. "You alright mate?" he asked. There was no response, not so much as a groan. Concerned, Bill stooped down and gently lifted the soot stained wizard in his arms; even with all the rain his robes had absorbed the man was still very light.

Ponder was still watching the storm from just inside the door as the Archchancellor carried his burden through the garden and into the university. "What's the matter with Rincewind, sir?" he asked.

Although Ponder had only met Rincewind very briefly, he decided he liked the man. It seemed to him that the inept wizard was something of a kindred spirit, another rational thinker desperately trying to keep a hold on his sanity in the midst of an insane world. So he followed the Archchancellor down a corridor, up a flight of stairs and along several more corridors.

"I dunno. He was on top of the tower when it was struck by, what did you blokes call it? Lightning?" Ponder nodded. "The monkey seemed to come out of the wreckage unscathed but your Rincewind was unconscious."

Ponder winced at the word "monkey."

"If I could give you a word of advice, sir." he said "if you like your anatomy exactly the way it is, don't use the M word around The Librarian. He can get a bit... touchy about it."

Bill paused in his stride briefly and smiled "I'll keep that in mind, mate."

Eventually they came to a door, which Ponder opened and then stepped aside so the Archchancellor could enter. Inside was a fairly large bedroom with a flimsy looking wardrobe at one end, a couple of bookcases full of books and a double four-poster bed with a strange kind of fine netting hanging from the posts. "It's to keep out the insects and creepy crawlies," said Bill catching Ponder's expression. He laid the unconscious Rincewind on the bed and felt for a pulse at his wrist. After a while he laid the hand gently on Rincewind's stomach and straightened up looking worried and distant.

"Is he going to be alright?" asked Ponder anxiously. Bill broke out of his reverie and tried to give the lad a reassuring smile. "No worries. We'll look after him."

Methodically the Archchancellor examined the patient for broken bones and other injuries and, finding only a nasty gash across his forehead and superficial scratches on his hands and legs, went through another door into a small bathroom and came back carrying a box which he put down on the edge of the bed and a wooden bucket which he held out of the window for a while until it was full of water. Then, taking a washcloth from the bathroom he wet it from the bucket and carefully washed the soot, dirt and blood from Rincewind's face and hands. Next, he took a bandage out of the box and bound Rincewind's head.

Between them, they managed to take off his soaked robes and as they did so Bill caught a glimpse of the scars criss-crossing his back. "Strewth" he murmured. "What does Rincewind do at your University?"

"He works in our library, sir."

"Ah, that explains it then, some of our books can tear a man's arm clean off!"

"Well, yes sir" Ponder conceded "However I don't think that's where he picked up all those scars. I get the impression that Rincewind leads an unintentionally adventurous life."

Bill took a spare nightshirt out of the wardrobe and slipped it over Rincewind's head; he shot a puzzled look at Ponder. "How do you mean?"

"Well sir, it seems that in the course of running away from things that mean him harm he gets involved and subsequently people expect him to help them; which usually results in him having to run away from different things that mean him harm."

They laid Rincewind, now clean and dry, back on the bed his head resting against the pillows. He lay there motionless and the fact that he hadn't so much as stirred once during their ministrations was beginning to worry the two wizards. Ponder was so concerned he placed his hand over Rincewind's mouth to check he was still breathing. He was, but the irregularity of his breathing caused Ponder to remove his hand quickly in alarm.

"Is there nothing more we can do for him?" he asked plaintively.

The Archchancellor shook his head. "I think we've done what we can for now. Simple rest is probably best, until his condition changes one way or the other. I will stay with him for a while if you want to go back downstairs, explain things to the others and get a bite to eat."

Ponder was loath to leave if he could be of use, but as he gazed at the still form on the bed he realized the Archchancellor was right, all they could do now was wait and hope he came round on his own, so, reluctantly, he thanked him and disappeared down the corridor.

When he had gone, Bill sighed and dropped heavily into a chair by the bed listening to the rain pelting itself against the roof and trying to digest the many strange events that had occurred over the past few hours.

After a long while, Rincewind stirred and gave a low groan. His whole body was screaming at him, he felt completely drained and at the moment thinking was proving as difficult as running through treacle. He could remember very little from the last few hours and what he could remember came through in dribs and drabs. At least he was lying down on something soft. He could just about make out the shape of a figure leaning over him and was vaguely aware that it was talking to him but in his exhausted state he couldn't for the life of him make out the words. The tone sounded comforting enough though.

There came a loud knock at the door, the kind of knock that indicated that it was simply for politeness' sake and whoever was outside was coming in regardless. The room was suddenly full of wizards, tailed by Ponder who looked rather flustered. "They insisted on visiting Archchancellor Rincewind," he said apologetically. The UU wizards gathered round the bed slightly awkwardly. Archchancellor Ridcully peered at Rincewind "Don't worry lad you'll soon be back on your feet in no time," he boomed, in a voice that brooked no argument. Rincewind finally focused on the faces in front of him and saw a lot of very familiar wizards staring down at him. "Please go away!" he intoned in a hoarse voice but with great conviction. Mustrum Ridcully, in the way of a certain type of school master everywhere, who couldn't stand malingerers, even if said malingerers were truly at death's door 'if they'd just pull themselves together and show a bit of backbone' muttered to himself "delirious, yes," and in a rather louder, and he thought, reassuring, voice said "nonsense young fellow! Some good food inside you and some decent exercise and you'll be right as rain." Archchancellor Rincewind frowned at this odd attitude to the obviously very infirm indeed but said nothing.

Somewhere in the back of Rincewind's befuddled mind thought processes were progressing thusly: I've been chased through dungeon dimensions, several war zones, and hell itself and do I get any sympathy? No, I get a bunch of arrogant wizards who couldn't tell their arse from their elbow telling me what to do. They probably only want me to get better so I can be sent on whatever dangerous, almost certainly suicidal mission they've cooked up for me in the meantime.

It was just then that The Luggage trotted into the room to find out what had happened to its master. Rincewind stared in horror at the big chest on lots of little legs and the rest of his memories clunked into place with ferocious speed, his all too adventurous life playing rapidly over the movie screen of his mind.

And so it was that then and there his entire being suddenly decided it had had enough. Enough of being dragged from one end of the Disc to the other. Enough of being shot at, menaced, chased, dangled over heights and blown up. Enough of being used as a convenient carrier, guide or pawn in the schemes of others. It fought back.