Later that evening, after dinner taken in her room, she walked down to the bar. Conversation stopped, and she was aware that she was the object of curiosity. She asked for a dry sherry. The nearest Lancre yokel cleared his throat and said, nervously, "Seven gnolls and a werewolf, wasn't it, m'lady?"
"No werewolf. Just gnolls." she said, with a smile. How rumour exaggerates things!
She gave him a brief account of the skirmish in the Rammerorks and said, modestly, "The Dwarfs I was with got most of them. I really didn't have too much to do. But I have a few skills."
The local nodded, somberely.
"So what brings an Assassin to Lancre, ma'am?"
Alice was taken aback. Just because I wear dark clothes and I can fight a bit, and I've never shied away from killing when there's no alternative…
"We do have a King here. He might not be much cop, Verence, but he's still our King…"
"If I were here on a contract, would I be sitting in the pub making myself conspicuous?" She remembered what her older brother, who really was a product of the Assassins' School, had said to her about Lancre: "Besides, there's no contract out on your King. Which suggests he's the kind of chap who hasn't made any enemies. Relax, I'm not here on a contract. MY speciality is archaeology. I'm just here to dig around a bit, that's all."
Alice became aware of an uneasy silence. For the first time, she noticed the small fat wrinkled woman sitting in state further down the bar. She looked jovial enough, but some deeper sense warned Alice that this was not a woman who fooled easily nor took idiots gladly.
"So you're an archeolololologist, missy?" the old woman said, in a not-entirely-friendly voice. "Now there's a thing. We ain't seen one of them round these parts for, ooh, over thirty years!"
"That's what brought me here" Alice said, with perfect honesty. "I thought it was strange that somewhere so near had been overlooked for so long. So I asked if I could come out here and make a few exploratory digs, as the area seems so rich in sites."
"Rich. Yes." the old woman muttered, dubiously. "And you're going to set about them with a pick and shovel. That should be something to see!"
A muted snigger ran round the bar, but hushed quickly, The old woman signaled for fresh drinks. "And put one in milady's glass down there, would you?"
Alice sighed. This wasn't the sort of entrance she'd been expecting. It also appeared that while the old lady was there, none of the locals was willing to divulge anything about potential sites, so it was going to have to be Birdwhistle alone. And what was it they weren't telling her?
Alice spent a frustrating couple of hours talking to locals and trying to get leads. They were friendly enough, yes, but a close people. They seemed to appreciate the news she brought out of Ankh-Morpork and Quirm, in a distant detached sort of way, and in return she learnt something of the social structure and set-up of Lancre. She noticed after a while the old lady had gone: who was she? She asked, carefully. Just Nanny, our village witch, they said.
Eventually Alice went for an early night. Busy day tomorrow.
As she drifted off to sleep, she thought she could hear voices, on the cusp of hearing.
"What do you make of her, Esme? That young baggage needs watchin!"
"You was right to come to me, Gytha. Too much book-learnin', not enough practical experience. She's clever, sure enough, and thinks she knows it all. That's always dangerous".
"Nice girl, deep down.. Nothing evil and she'll do more good than harm, Assassin or no!"
"But here and now, she's bloody dangerous. Imagine her diggin' round by the Dancers? Or the Long Man?"
"The Dancers", thought Alice, sleepily. "Birdwhistle says they're an old stone circle, possibly from the earliest Druidic period, up on the moors not far from here. Mmmmmm, I'll start there…" and sleep took her.
Meanwhile, something else awoke. It sensed a mind it could use. It found Alice Band. It decided to bide its time and see if she came to the Dancers on the morrow.