‘Yeah, well, this isn't your basic heroic saga kind of bard, y'see,’ said Caleb, as his leader continued the search. ‘I told you he wasn't the right sort when we grabbed him. He's more the kind of bard you want if you need some ditty being sung to a girl. We're talking flowers and spring here, boss.’

‘Ah, got 'em,’ said Cohen. From a bag on his belt he produced a set of dentures, carved from the diamond teeth of trolls. He inserted them in his mouth, and gnashed them a few times. ‘That's better. What were you saying?’

‘He's not a proper bard, boss.’

Cohen shrugged. ‘He'll just have to learn fast, then. He's got to be better'n the ones back in the Empire. They don't have a clue about poems longer'n seventeen syllables. At least this one's from Ankh-Morpork. He must've heard about sagas.’

‘I said we should've stopped off at Whale Bay,’ said Truckle. ‘Icy wastes, freezing nights… good saga country.’

‘Yeah, if you like blubber.’ Cohen drew his sword from the snowdrift. ‘I reckon I'd better go and take the lad's mind off of flowers, then.’

‘It appears that things revolve around the Disc,’ said Leonard. ‘This is certainly the case with the sun and the moon. And also, if you recall… the MariaPesto?’

‘The ship they said went right under the Disc?’ said Archchancellor Ridcully.

‘Quite. Known to be blown over the Rim near the Bay of Mante during a dreadful storm, and seen by fishermen rising above the Rim near TinLing some days later, where it crashed down upon a reef. There was only one survivor, whose dying words were… rather strange.’

‘I remember,’ said Ridcully. ‘He said, “My God, it's full of elephants!”’

‘It is my view that with sufficient thrust and a lateral component a craft sent off the edge of the world would be swung underneath by the massive attraction and rise on the far side.’ said Leonard, ‘probably to a sufficient height to allow it to glide down to anywhere on the surface.’