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“Nope,” she said. “Still all at sea this end. ”
“Well, Im not saying anymore. ”
“Everyones gone to the Entertainment,” said Nanny Ogg.
No reply.
“And later theyll be back. ” A further absence of dialogue.
“Then therell be carousing and jugglers and fellas that put weasels down their trousers,” said Nanny. Silence.
“And then itll be tomorrow, and then whatre you going to do?”
Silence.
“You can always go back to your cottage. No ones moved in. Or you can stop along of me, if you like. But youll have to decide, dyou see, because you cant stay locked in there. ”
Nanny leaned against the wall.
“I remember years ago my granny telling me about Queen Amonia, well, I say queen, but she never was queen except for about three hours because of what Im about to unfold, on account of them playing hide-and-seek at the wedding party and her hiding in a big heavy old chest in some attic and the lid slamming shut and no one finding her for seven months, by which time you could definitely say the wedding cake was getting a bit stale. ”
Silence.
“Well, if you aint telling me, I cant hang around all night,” said Nanny. “Itll all be better in the morning, youll see. ”
Silence.
“Why dont you have an early night?” said Nanny. “Our Shawnll do you a hot drink if you ring down. Its a bit nippy out here, to tell you the truth. Its amazing how these old stone places hang on to the chill. ”
Silence.
“So Ill be off then, shall I?” said Nanny, to the unyielding silence. “Not doing much good here, I can see that. Sure you dont want to talk?”
Silence.
“Stand before your god, bow before your king, and kneel before your man. Recipe for a happy life, that is,” said Nanny, to the world in general. “Well, Im going away now. Tell you what, Ill come back early tomorrow, help you get ready, that sort of thing. How about it?”
Silence.
“So thats all sorted out then,” said Nanny. “Cheerio. ” She waited a full minute. By rights, by the human mechanics of situations like this, the bolts should have been drawn back and Magrat should have peeped out into the corridor, or possibly even called out to her. She did not.
Nanny shook her head. She could think of at least three ways of getting into the room, and only one of them involved going through the door. But there was a time and a place for witchcraft, and this wasnt it. Nanny Ogg had led a long and generally happy life by knowing when not to be a witch, and this was one of those times.
She went down the stairs and out of the castle. Shawn was standing guard at the main gate, surreptitiously practicing karate chops on the evening air. He stopped and looked embarrassed as Nanny Ogg approached.
“Wish I was going to the Entertainment, Mum. ”
“I daresay the king will be very generous to you come payday on account of your duty,” said Nanny Ogg. “Remind me to remind him. ”
“Arent you going?”
“Well, Im . . . Im just going for a stroll into town,” said Nanny. “I expect Esme went with em, did she?”
“Couldnt say, Mum. ”
“Just a few things I got to do. ”
She hadnt gone much further before a voice behind her said, “Ello, oh moon of my delight. ”
“You do sneak up on people, Casanunda. ”
“Ive arranged for us to have dinner at the Goat and Bush,” said the dwarf Count.
“Ooo, thats a horrible expensive place,” said Nanny Ogg. “Never eaten there. ”
“Theyve got some special provisions in, what with the wedding and all the gentry here,” said Casanunda. “Ive made special arrangements. ”
These had been quite difficult.
Food as an aphrodisiac was not a concept that had ever caught on in Lancre, apart from Nanny Oggs famous Carrot and Oyster Pie. [32] As far as the cook at the Goat and Bush was concerned, food and sex were only linked in certain humorous gestures involving things like cucumbers. Hed never heard of chocolate, banana skins, avocado and ginger, marshmallow and the thousand other foods people had occasionally employed to drive an A-to-B freeway through the rambling pathways of romance. Casanunda had spent a busy ten minutes sketching out a detailed menu, and quite a lot of money had changed hands.
Hed arranged a careful romantic candlelit supper. Casanunda had always believed in the art of seduction.
Many tall women accessible by stepladder across the continent had reflected how odd it was that the dwarfs, a race to whom the aforesaid art of seduction consisted in the main part of tactfully finding out what sex, underneath all that leather and chain-mail, another dwarf was, had generated someone like Casanunda.
It was as if Eskimos had produced a natural expert in the care and attention of rare tropical plants. The great pent up waters of dwarfish sexuality had found a leak at the bottom of the dam-small, but with enough power to drive a dynamo.
Everything that his fellow dwarfs did very occasionally as nature demanded he did all the time, sometimes in the back of a sedan chair and once upside down in a tree - but, and this is important, with care and attention to detail that was typically dwarfish. Dwarfs would spend months working on an exquisite piece of jewellery, and for broadly similar reasons Casanunda was a popular visitor to many courts and palaces, for some strange reason generally while the local lord was away. He also had a dwarfish ability with locks, always a useful talent for those awkward moments sur la boudoir.
And Nanny Ogg was an attractive lady, which is not the same as being beautiful. She fascinated Casanunda. She was an incredibly comfortable person to be around, partly because she had a mind so broad it could accommodate three football fields and a bowling alley.
* * *
“I wish I had my crossbow,” muttered Ridcully. “With that head on my wall Id always have a place to hang my hat. ”
The unicorn tossed its head and pawed the ground. Steam rose from its flanks.
“I aint sure that would work,” said Granny. “You sure youve got no whoosh left in them fingers of yours?”
“I could create an illusion,” said the wizard. “Thats not hard. ”
“It wouldnt work. The unicorn is an elvish creature. Magic dont work on em. They see through illusions. They ought to, theyre good enough at em. How about the bank? Reckon you could scramble up it?”
They both glanced at the banks. They were red clay, slippery as priests.
“Lets walk backward,” said Granny. “Slowly. ”
“How about its mind? Can you get in?”
“Theres someone in there already. The poor things her pet. It obeys only her. ”
The unicorn walked after them, trying to watch both of them at the same time.
“What shall we do when we come to the bridge?”
“You can still swim, cant you?”
“The rivers a long way down. ”
“But theres a deep pool there. Dont you remember? You dived in there once. One moonlit night. . . ”
“I was young and foolish then. ”
“Well? Youre old and foolish now. ”
“I thought unicorns were more . . . fluffy. ”
“See clear! Dont let the glamour get you! See whats in front of your eyes! Its a damn great horse with a horn on the end!” said Granny.
The unicorn pawed the ground.
Grannys feet scraped the bridge.
“Got here by accident, cant get back,” she said. “Ifn thered been one of us itd be charging by now. Were about halfway across the bridge-”
“Lot of snow runoff in that river,” said Ridcully, doubtfully
“Oh, yes,” said Granny “See you at the weir. ”
And she was gone.
The unicorn, which had been trying to decide between targets, was left with Ridcully.
It could count up to one.
It lowered its head.
>
Ridcully had never liked horses, animals which seemed to him to have only the weakest possible grip on sanity
As the unicorn charged, he vaulted the parapet and dropped, without much aerodynamic grace, into the icy waters of the Lancre.
The Librarian liked the stage. He was always in the front seat on the first night of a new production at any of Ankhs theatres, his prehensile abilities allowing him to clap twice as hard as anyone else or, if necessary, hurl peanut shells.
And he was feeling let down. There were hardly any books in the castle, except for serious volumes on etiquette and animal breeding and estate management. As a rule, royalty doesnt read much.
He wasnt expecting to be amazed at the Entertainment. Hed peered behind the bit of sacking that was doing service as a dressing room, and seen half a dozen heavily built men arguing with one another. This did not bode well for an evening of thespianic splendor, although there was always the possibility that one of them might hit another one in the face with a custard pie. [33]
He had managed to get the three of them seats in the front row. This wasnt according to the rules of precedence, but it was amazing how everyone squeezed up to make room. Hed also found some peanuts. No one ever knew how he managed that.
“Oook?”
“No, thank you,” said Ponder Stibbons. “They give me wind. ”
“Oook?”
“I like to listen to a man who likes to talk! Whoops! Sawdust and treacle! Put that in your herring and smoke it!”
“I dont think he wants one,” said Ponder.
The curtain went up, or at least was pulled aside by Carter the baker.
The Entertainment began.
The Librarian watched in deepening gloom. It was amazing. Normally he quite liked a badly acted play, provided enough confectionery stayed airborne, but these people werent even good at bad acting. Also, no one seemed to be on the point of throwing anything.
He fished a peanut out of the bag and rolled it in his fingers, while staring intently at the left ear of Tailor the other weaver.
And felt his hair rise. This is very noticeable on an orang-utan.
He glanced up at the hill behind the erratic actors, and growled under his breath.
“Oook?”
Ponder nudged him.
“Quiet!” he hissed. “Theyre getting the hang of it. . . ”
There was an echo to the voice of the one in the straw wig.
“Whatd she say?” said Ponder.
“Oook!”
“Howd she do that? Thats good makeup, that-”
Ponder fell silent.
Suddenly the Librarian felt very alone.
Everyone else in the audience had their gaze fastened firmly on the turf stage.
He moved a hand up and down in front of Stibbonss face.
The air was wavering over the hill, and the grass on its side moved in a way that made the apes eyes ache.
“Oook?”
Over the hill, between the little stones, it began to snow.
“Oook?”
Alone in her room, Magrat unpacked the wedding dress.
And that was another thing.
She ought to have been involved in the dress, at least. She was going to - would have been the one wearing it, after all. There should have been weeks of choosing the material, and fittings, and changing her mind, and changing the material, and changing the pattern, and more fittings . . .
. . . although of course she was her own woman and didnt need that kind of thing at all. . .
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