Episode The First:

Foiled!

In which the Lady Grapeseed has a Guest; Thaddeus Townsend hurts his head; and Nikephoros does not appear

Part Two

Thaddeus stood, slowly and wincing. He put his hand to his head, and winced again- the solid granite step had caught him an awful blow when he fell, but Thaddeus reasoned that he could stand it. After all, he was standing, and he could see straight. It couldn't be more than a graze, though a bloody one at that.

"My rescuer, you are awake! Praise the Gods that you are unhurt!" Thaddeus spun to see who had addressed him, then waited a few minutes for his brain to stop spinning. It was the girl who had collapsed on his feet, he thought, but- hadn't she been wearing white before? Now she was clothed in some sort of dark blue dress. She rushed at him in a floaty sort of way.

"My lord, will you not speak?" She glided closer. "Oh, but you are injured! Stay, my Prince, my rescuer- I will fetch medicine, and dressings!"

Thaddeus swayed a little in her wake. The girl- he supposed she was some sort of sister or friend of Miss Gammins's- had floated off, or so it appeared to Thaddeus's wandering mind, in an orange nimbus of hair. He found a chair- it was, handily, situated beside a table exactly the right height for letting one's head collapse onto.

It was surprisingly comfortable. This was despite the fact that it was made from a great slab of stone and appeared to be oozing some sort of dark greasy substance from one end. The other end, Thaddeus noticed thankfully. The particular spot on which he had decided to lay his head was completely free of dark, greasy spots.

It was warm inside the tower, and the air wasn't whipping past your body in an attempt to pull it off the side of the mountain and play slinky down the Ramtops with it. Thaddeus's head throbbed. Medicine, the girl had said in her tinkly voice. Medicine, Thaddeus decided, was just what he needed right now. . .

Lady Grapeseed found the medicine box without much difficulty- kitchen bench, kept there for easy access in event of emergency, something that happened quite often in the Grapeseed/Gammins household. It took a little longer, however, to decide what to use from it. After several minutes, she gave up trying to decipher the cramped handwriting on the labels of several medicinal-looking bottles. The Phial would have to do. It always worked, after all.

"Oh!" Lady Grapeseed rushed to her patient's side, bandages and Phial at the ready. "Oh, my poor love! Now . . . this may hurt a little, but be brave!"

Hurt a little was, predictably, an understatement. Something that felt akin to a stream of molten lead flowed into the wound on Thaddeus's head. Scabbed blood crackled away at its approach; skin stretched and burned as it healed much faster than skin has any right to heal.

Thaddeus screamed. Lady Grapeseed soothed and bandaged. A line of fire seemed to burn its way deep into Thaddeus's brain, and then he-

He-

Felt fine, really. Lady Grapeseed smiled beatifically as the young man gently fingered his perfectly healed forehead- the Phial always worked, always! She almost laughed with happiness.

"My sweet lord, you are well again! Pray, let us leave this horrid home of cruelty at once, and make speed to your kingdom!" Lady Grapeseed's eyes filled with tears as she fell to the floor, gazing imploringly up at her saviour.

"Prince?" Thaddeus frowned, puzzled. "I'm not a prince."

"My apologies, sir! I was deceived by your noble profile and lordly bearing. Surely, then, you are a lord, or a marquis?"

"No, look, you've got it all wrong. . ."

The slightest furrow appeared on Lady Grapeseed's brow. "A viscount?"

"No-"

"But of course!" Lady Grapeseed clasped her hands in delight. "You are the impoverished son of an exiled monarch, wandering the disc in search of love and a way to reclaim your throne!" This was wonderful! Even the Witch had warned her not to expect someone this wonderful.

"No, wait, I'm not any of those things! I'm just a-"

"Yes?"

"I'm. . . a Junior Filing Assistant. From Ankh Morpork- I found the letter? The one from Ma-"

"A filing assistant?" Lady Grapeseed was outraged. "A junior filing assistant?"

"No- um- Junior Filing Assistant, not junior filing assistant, I recently was promoted, um, hence the capitals. . ."

"How dare you!" Just as detailed in chapter twenty-three of The Damsel's Guide, Lady Grapeseed now gave way to what her precious Book described as 'Righteous Anger Upon Discovery of a Cruel Deception'. "How dare you do this to me! You- you deceitful, lying, horrid little man!"

"But-"

"No! I refuse to listen to another word from your lying mouth! Remove yourself from my presence!"

"Er-"

"NOW!"

Thaddeus stared at the closed door in front of him. It was very, very closed. He doubted that even a flatworm that had been run over several times by a coach filled with very traditional dwarves could have found a gap through which to enter the tower.

He sighed, and took out the letter. Well, he'd come, hadn't he? Just like it said, yes, right there on the paper:

Congratulations!

You, lucky recipient, have been given a UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY! You- YES, we mean YOU- have been CHOSEN for a NOBLE QUEST!

DO NOT HESITATE! GRASP this WONDERFUL CHANCE to earn FAME, FORTUNE and the HAND OF A FAIR LADY!

ACT NOW, and receive an ADDITIONAL 12 CARAT GOLD RING OF MYSTERIOUS ORIGIN!

ACT NOW, and add YOUR name to the HALL OF HEROES when you RESCUE a BEAUTIFUL DAMSEL from the CLUTCHES OF PURE EVIL!

SEE NEXT PAGE FOR MORE EXCITING DETAILS!

The next page had, excitedly and with much abuse of the exclamation mark, informed him that he had been SPECIFICALLY CHOSEN above HUNDREDS OF OTHER ABLE-BODIED MEN to rescue one "Magatha GaGrapeseed (Lady)" from her incarceration in the "Tower of the Bone Witch" in the mountains above Lancre. There was a map, which he had followed, and a watercolour of the damsel in question.

The artist had been reasonably accurate, Thaddeus thought, although a little generous on the, er, chestal area. He'd shrunk the girl's nose a bit, too. The look of dreamy wonderment had been quite accurate, though.

Until he'd told her who he was.

There was also the matter of the post scriptum scribbled along the bottom of the page, on top of a coupon for 5 off commission charges when you choose Grabhammer's Hero Service to book your quests (, etc).

PS, it read. Sorry about all that. Look up.

He'd looked up quite often during his journey, sometimes in search of divine inspiration and sometimes just wondering when the rain would stop, to no avail. But-

Sorry about all that. It- almost made sense, now, given what had just happened. He decided to give it one more go.

There was a rope.