Chapter the Third, in Which Some Wisdom is Imparted.

I apologize for not following my usual practice of publishing at or near the weekend. Things were disrupted by sorting out being in a car crash (no injuries thank goodness, but both cars insurance write offs.) I'll try to get back into the swing of things over the next few weeks. I'm beginning to think Ned may have a pivotal moment in the story at some point.

Three men stood in a moonlit forest glade. They formed a rough triangle, facing each other about two paces (six feet) apart.

To any hypothetical observer it would be evident from their clothing and accoutrements that it was likely each followed a different trade.

The biggest of them might best be considered a lumberjack from his flannel shirt in a plaid pattern, corduroy trousers, (1) and sturdy boots. The clue which would clinch this conclusion was the felling axe held in one huge hand.

The only thing disturbing the image of strength and competence he presented was an aura about his body that was hard to define. Looked at one way it was golden in colour, and an ethereal silver if the viewpoint was changed only slightly. It was impossible to decide which was the true colour.

Another man wore the robe and broad hat of an Omnian priest. He, too had opted for heavy boots in this environment. (2) Two things departed from the usual Omnian clerical rig. Worn around his neck, instead of the usual Holy Horns or World Turtle amulet was a miniature image of a double headed axe. Holstered at his back was the amulet's real counterpart. A double headed war axe.

He appeared to be the chairman of a debate to judge what the third man was saying.

This man initially appeared to be the smallest of the three, though once again the real state of affairs was difficult to discern. It was hard to tell if he really was that small, or an average to tall man making himself look small. One thing was certain though. Despite having the look of a heavily armoured soldier with his helmet off (and that armour was definitely some of the most sophisticated the others had ever seen) his visage wasn't the sort which appeared in the idealized portraits of military heroes. (3)

He, too, holstered at his hip, carried an axe.

Its shape owed a lot to Dwarfish practice. (4)

'If I am to follow the lessons you yourself have learned Pastor, then it is incumbent on me and my men to support you in this venture. You believe in standing up for those who cannot do it for themselves. Formidable though the men of the camp might prove against ordinary bandits, you know the raiders would be too much for them without assistance. And we know the Gentry will come back.'

Something the homely figure had said seemed to catch the priest's attention to the point that both his eyebrows raised in surprise, unusual for Mr Oats, who had learned normally to maintain his composure in even the most trying of circumstances, as befitted a reasonable man.

'Your men ? You have involved other people in this ? I hope they know what they are getting into, it would be a disgrace to us both if not.'

'They know exactly what they are facing, and can be quite terrifying themselves if called upon to be so.'

'You have found others of your kind willing to assist. After all that has happened between them and the outside world ?' (5)

'They are not Orcs (6) Mr Oats, but men of another community with no reason to love the Lords and Ladies. Quite the reverse. They offered to assist me without being asked to, as members of one outcast society to another.'

'If they can resist the glamour, and understand the risk, then their assistance is welcome. Will they join the workforce or hold themselves ready in the woods ?'

'They are shy of most human communities, so they will stay out of sight until the opportune moment.'

'It occurs to me to ask how you came to join this debate. I know I am dreaming this and it's meant to be under my control.'

'I read the works of the Bonk School long before you did Pastor Oats, I realized the Collective Unconscious has literal form in this reality. I think I should yield the floor to our companion, who has been most forbearing.'

'Pastor Nutt is gracious and informative (7).' said the big man. (8) 'I can impart limited advice. It is in the nature of visions to be cryptic. The man with the iron in his hand is to be respected. The ghosts of the slain seek vengeance on their killers but will not possess the men now in the camp to do it. Discarnate spirits are unaffected by glamour. But keep in mind it is thought the Gentry feel no pain. It is now coming towards dawn and I think Mr Cutter is preparing your breakfast.'

He faded from the ken of the two priests.

'I would greatly like to meet the community your men come from Mr Nutt, perhaps we should discuss it when we meet, though axes be hewing all around us.'

'We will discuss the situation when the task at hand is done. You may be surprised by them Pastor Oats. Dawn is rising, and we need to return to our camps.'

The two men faded from each others' awareness and returned to wakefulness. The next few days carried the prospect of being interesting.

Ned noted that there was another soldier watching over them from cover. Once again he decided to do nothing about the situation. (9)

(1)Denim is sturdy, but corduroy has better thermal properties when wet. Ask any outdoorsman.

(2)Preferable to getting sandalled feet caught in brambles. Uncomfortable isn't the half of it.

(3)Mr Nutt is no matinee idol. He is a homely and practical man.

(4)Pickaxe on one side for digging or mining, war axe on the other in case anyone objects.

(5)The way they were used had left Mr Nutt's people with a bad reputation on the Disc.

(6)Discworld Orcs: genetically manipulated shock troops, like Halo SPARTANS minus cybernetics.

(7)The bishop who ordained Nutt had needed showing missionary work could get physical...

(8)He knows about Nutt because he is from the Other Side. Supernaturals easily spot clergy.

(9)Had it been Nutt he couldn't have helped himself. The presence of Orcs freaks animals out.