Lords and Ladies by Terry Pratchett
Page 27
“Theres some gentry we dont want to see here,” said Granny. “I wont be happy until all this is over. ”
Nanny Ogg craned to try and see over the head of a small emperor.
“Cant see Magrat around,” she said. “Theres Verence talking to some other kings, but cant see our Magrat at all. Our Shawn said Millie Chillum said she was just a bag of nerves this morning. ”
“All these high-born folks,” said Granny, looking around at the crowned heads. “I feel like a fish out of water. ”
“Well, the way I see it, its up to you to make your own water,” said Nanny, picking up a cold roast chicken leg from the buffet and stuffing it up a sleeve.
“Dont drink too much. Weve got to keep alert, Gytha. Remember what I said. Dont let yourself get distracted-”
“Thats never the delectable Mrs. Ogg, is it?”
Nanny turned.
There was no one behind her.
“Down here,” said the voice.
She looked down, into a wide grin.
“Oh, blast,” she said.
“Its me, Casanunda,” said Casanunda, who was dwarfed still further by an enormous[30] powdered wig. “You remember? We danced the night away in Genua?”
“No we didnt. ”
“Well, we could have done. ”
“Fancy you turning up here,” said Nanny, weakly. The thing about Casanunda, she recalled, was that the harder you slapped him down the faster he bounced back, often in an unexpected direction.
“Our stars are entwined,” said Casanunda. “Were fated for one another. I wants your body, Mrs. Ogg. ”
“Im still using it. ”
And while she suspected, quite accurately, that this was an approach the worlds second greatest lover used on anything that appeared to be even vaguely female, Nanny Ogg had to admit that she was flattered. Shed had many admirers in her younger days, but time had left her with a body that could only be called comfortable and a face like Mr. Grape the Happy Raisin. Long-banked fires gave off a little smoke.
Besides, shed rather liked Casanunda. Most men were oblique in their approach, whereas his direct attack was refreshing.
“Itd never work,” she said. “Were basically incompatible. When Im 5 4” youll still only be 3 9“. Anyway, Im old enough to be your mother. ”
“You cant be. My mothers nearly 300, and shes got a better beard than you. ”
And of course that was another point. By dwarf standards, Nanny Ogg was hardly more than a teenager.
“La, sir,” she said, giving him a playful tap that made his ears ring, “you do know how to turn a simple country girls head and no mistake!”
Casanunda picked himself up and adjusted his wig happily
“I like a girl with spirit,” he said. “How about you and me having a little tete-a-tete when this is over?”
Nanny Oggs face went blank. Her cosmopolitan grip of language had momentarily let her down.
“Excuse me a minute,” she said. She put her drink down on his head and pushed through the crowd until she found a likely looking duchess, and prodded her in the bustle regions.
“Hey, your grace, whats a tater tate?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“A tater tate? Do you do it with your clothes on or what?”
“It means an intimate meeting, my good woman. ”
“Is that all? Oh. Ta. ”
Nanny Ogg elbowed her way back to the vibrating dwarf.
“Youre on,” she said.
“I thought we could have a little private dinner, just you and me,” said Casanunda. “In one of the taverns?”
Never, in a long history of romance, had Nanny Ogg ever been taken out for an intimate dinner. Her courtships had been more noted for their quantity than their quality.
“OK,” was all she could think of to say.
“Dodge your chaperone and meet me at six oclock?”
Nanny Ogg glanced at Granny Weatherwax, who was watching them disapprovingly from a distance.
“Shes not my-” she began.
Then it dawned on her that Casanunda couldnt possibly have really thought that Granny Weatherwax was chaperoning her.
Compliments and flattery had also been very minor components in the machinery of Nanny Oggs courtships.
“Yes, all right,” she said.
“And now I shall circulate, so that people dont talk and ruin your reputation,” said Casanunda, bowing and kissing Nanny Oggs hand.
Her mouth dropped open. No one had ever kissed her hand before, either, and certainly no one had ever worried about her reputation, least of all Nanny Ogg.
As the worlds second greatest lover bustled off to accost a countess. Granny Weatherwax - who had been watching from a discreet distance[31] - said, in an amiable voice: “You havent got the morals of a cat, Gytha Ogg. ”
“Now, Esme, you know thats not true. ”
“All right. You have got the morals of a cat, then. ”
“Thats better. ”
Nanny Ogg patted her mass of white curls and wondered if she had time to go home and put her corsets on.
“We must stay on our guard, Gytha. ”
“Yes, yes. ”
“Cant let other considerations turn our heads. ”
“No, no. ”
“Youre not listening to a word I say, are you?”
“What?”
“You could at least find out why Magrat isnt down here. ”
“All right. ”
Nanny Ogg wandered off, dreamily.
Granny Weatherwax turned-
-there should have been violins. The murmur of the crowd should have faded away, and the crowd itself should have parted in a quite natural movement to leave an empty path between her and Ridcully
There should have been violins. There should have been something.
There shouldnt have been the Librarian accidentally knuckling her on the toe on his way to the buffet, but this, in fact, there was.
She hardly noticed.
“Esme?” said Ridcully
“Mustrum?” said Granny Weatherwax.
Nanny Ogg bustled up.
“Esme, I saw Millie Chillum and she said-”
Granny Weatherwaxs vicious elbow jab winded her. Nanny took in the scene.
“Ah,” she said, “Ill just, Ill just. . . Ill just go away, then. ”
The gazes locked again.
The Librarian knuckled past again with an entire display of fruit.
Granny Weatherwax paid him no heed.
The Bursar, who was currently on the median point of his cycle, tapped Ridcully on the shoulder.
“I say, Archchancellor, these quails eggs are amazingly go-”
“DROP DEAD. Mr. Stibbons, fish out the frog pills and keep knives away from him, please. ”
The gazes locked again.
“Well, well,” said Granny, after a year or so.
“This must be some enchanted evening,” said Ridcully.
“Yes. Thats what Im afraid of. ”
“That really is you, isnt it?”
“Its really me,” said Granny
“You havent changed a bit, Esme. ”
“Nor have you, then. Youre still a rotten liar, Mustrum Ridcully”
They walked toward one another. The Librarian shuttled between them with a tray of meringues. Behind them, Ponder Stibbons grovelled on the floor for a spilled bottle of dried frog pills.
“Well, well,” said Ridcully.
“Fancy that. ”
“Small world. ”
“Yes indeed. ”
“Youre you and Im me. Amazing. And its here and now. ”
“Yes, but then was then. ”
“I sent you a lot of letters,” said Ridcully
“Never got em. ”
There was a glint in Ridcullys eye.
“Thats odd. And there was me putting all those destination spells on them too,” he said. He gave h
er a critical up-and-down glance. “How much do you weigh, Esme? Not a spare ounce on you, Ill be bound. ”
“What do you want to know for?”
“Indulge an old man. ”
“Nine stones, then. ”
“Hmm . . . should be about right . . . three miles hubward . . . youll feel a slight lurch to the left, nothing to worry about. . . ”
In a lightning movement, he grabbed her hand. He felt young and light-headed. The wizards back at the University would have been astonished.
“Let me take you away from all this. ”
He snapped his fingers.
There has to be at least an approximate conservation of mass. Its a fundamental magical rule. If something is moved from A to B, something that was at B has got to find itself at A.
And then theres momentum. Slow as the disc spins, various points of its radii are moving at different speeds relative to the Hub, and a wizard projecting himself any distance toward the Rim had better be prepared to land jogging.
The three miles to Lancre Bridge merely involved a faint tug, which Ridcully had been ready for, and he landed up leaning against the parapet with Esme Weatherwax in his arms.
The customs troll who had until a fraction of a second previously been sitting there ended up lying full length on the floor of the Great Hall, coincidentally on top of the Bursar.
Granny Weatherwax looked over at the rushing water, and then at Ridcully.
“Take me back this instant,” she said. “Youve got no right to do that. ”
“Dear me, I seem to have run out of power. Cant understand it, very embarrassing, fingers gone all limp,” said Ridcully. “Of course, we could walk. Its a lovely evening. You always did get lovely evenings here. ”
“It was all fifty or sixty years ago!” said Granny. “You cant suddenly turn up and say all those years havent happened. ”
“Oh, I know theyve happened all right,” said Ridcully. “Im the head wizard now. Ive only got to give an order and a thousand wizards will. . . uh . . . disobey, come to think of it, or say What?, or start to argue. But they have to take notice. ”
“Ive been to that University a few times,” said Granny. “A bunch of fat old men in beards. ”
“Thats right! Thats them!”
“A lot of em come from the Ramtops,” said Granny. “I knew a few boys from Lancre who became wizards. ”
“Very magical area,” Ridcully agreed. “Something in the air. ”
Below them, the cold black waters raced, always dancing to gravity, never flowing uphill.
“There was even a Weatherwax as Archchancellor, years ago,” said Ridcully.
“So I understand. Distant cousin. Never knew him,” said Granny.
They both stared down at the river for a moment. Occasionally a twig or a branch would whirl along in the current.
“Do you remember-”
“I have a . . . very good memory, thank you. ”
"Do you ever wonder what life would have been like if
youd said yes?" said Ridcully.
“No. ”
“I suppose wed have settled down, had children, grandchildren, that sort of thing . . . ”
Granny shrugged. It was the sort of thing romantic idiots said. But there was something in the air tonight. . .
“What about the fire?” she said.
“What fire?”
"Swept through our house just after we were married.
Killed us both. "
“Theres some gentry we dont want to see here,” said Granny. “I wont be happy until all this is over. ”
Nanny Ogg craned to try and see over the head of a small emperor.
“Cant see Magrat around,” she said. “Theres Verence talking to some other kings, but cant see our Magrat at all. Our Shawn said Millie Chillum said she was just a bag of nerves this morning. ”
“All these high-born folks,” said Granny, looking around at the crowned heads. “I feel like a fish out of water. ”
“Well, the way I see it, its up to you to make your own water,” said Nanny, picking up a cold roast chicken leg from the buffet and stuffing it up a sleeve.
“Dont drink too much. Weve got to keep alert, Gytha. Remember what I said. Dont let yourself get distracted-”
“Thats never the delectable Mrs. Ogg, is it?”
Nanny turned.
There was no one behind her.
“Down here,” said the voice.
She looked down, into a wide grin.
“Oh, blast,” she said.
“Its me, Casanunda,” said Casanunda, who was dwarfed still further by an enormous[30] powdered wig. “You remember? We danced the night away in Genua?”
“No we didnt. ”
“Well, we could have done. ”
“Fancy you turning up here,” said Nanny, weakly. The thing about Casanunda, she recalled, was that the harder you slapped him down the faster he bounced back, often in an unexpected direction.
“Our stars are entwined,” said Casanunda. “Were fated for one another. I wants your body, Mrs. Ogg. ”
“Im still using it. ”
And while she suspected, quite accurately, that this was an approach the worlds second greatest lover used on anything that appeared to be even vaguely female, Nanny Ogg had to admit that she was flattered. Shed had many admirers in her younger days, but time had left her with a body that could only be called comfortable and a face like Mr. Grape the Happy Raisin. Long-banked fires gave off a little smoke.
Besides, shed rather liked Casanunda. Most men were oblique in their approach, whereas his direct attack was refreshing.
“Itd never work,” she said. “Were basically incompatible. When Im 5 4” youll still only be 3 9“. Anyway, Im old enough to be your mother. ”
“You cant be. My mothers nearly 300, and shes got a better beard than you. ”
And of course that was another point. By dwarf standards, Nanny Ogg was hardly more than a teenager.
“La, sir,” she said, giving him a playful tap that made his ears ring, “you do know how to turn a simple country girls head and no mistake!”
Casanunda picked himself up and adjusted his wig happily
“I like a girl with spirit,” he said. “How about you and me having a little tete-a-tete when this is over?”
Nanny Oggs face went blank. Her cosmopolitan grip of language had momentarily let her down.
“Excuse me a minute,” she said. She put her drink down on his head and pushed through the crowd until she found a likely looking duchess, and prodded her in the bustle regions.
“Hey, your grace, whats a tater tate?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“A tater tate? Do you do it with your clothes on or what?”
“It means an intimate meeting, my good woman. ”
“Is that all? Oh. Ta. ”
Nanny Ogg elbowed her way back to the vibrating dwarf.
“Youre on,” she said.
“I thought we could have a little private dinner, just you and me,” said Casanunda. “In one of the taverns?”
Never, in a long history of romance, had Nanny Ogg ever been taken out for an intimate dinner. Her courtships had been more noted for their quantity than their quality.
“OK,” was all she could think of to say.
“Dodge your chaperone and meet me at six oclock?”
Nanny Ogg glanced at Granny Weatherwax, who was watching them disapprovingly from a distance.
“Shes not my-” she began.
Then it dawned on her that Casanunda couldnt possibly have really thought that Granny Weatherwax was chaperoning her.
Compliments and flattery had also been very minor components in the machinery of Nanny Oggs courtships.
“Yes, all right,” she said.
“And now I shall circulate, so that people dont talk and ruin your reputation,” said Casanunda, bowing and kissing Nanny Oggs hand.
Her mouth dropped open. No one had ever kissed her hand before, either, and certainly no one had ever worried about her reputation, least of all Nanny Ogg.
As the worlds second greatest lover bustled off to accost a countess. Granny Weatherwax - who had been watching from a discreet distance[31] - said, in an amiable voice: “You havent got the morals of a cat, Gytha Ogg. ”
“Now, Esme, you know thats not true. ”
“All right. You have got the morals of a cat, then. ”
“Thats better. ”
Nanny Ogg patted her mass of white curls and wondered if she had time to go home and put her corsets on.
“We must stay on our guard, Gytha. ”
“Yes, yes. ”
“Cant let other considerations turn our heads. ”
“No, no. ”
“Youre not listening to a word I say, are you?”
“What?”
“You could at least find out why Magrat isnt down here. ”
“All right. ”
Nanny Ogg wandered off, dreamily.
Granny Weatherwax turned-
-there should have been violins. The murmur of the crowd should have faded away, and the crowd itself should have parted in a quite natural movement to leave an empty path between her and Ridcully
There should have been violins. There should have been something.
There shouldnt have been the Librarian accidentally knuckling her on the toe on his way to the buffet, but this, in fact, there was.
She hardly noticed.
“Esme?” said Ridcully
“Mustrum?” said Granny Weatherwax.
Nanny Ogg bustled up.
“Esme, I saw Millie Chillum and she said-”
Granny Weatherwaxs vicious elbow jab winded her. Nanny took in the scene.
“Ah,” she said, “Ill just, Ill just. . . Ill just go away, then. ”
The gazes locked again.
The Librarian knuckled past again with an entire display of fruit.
Granny Weatherwax paid him no heed.
The Bursar, who was currently on the median point of his cycle, tapped Ridcully on the shoulder.
“I say, Archchancellor, these quails eggs are amazingly go-”
“DROP DEAD. Mr. Stibbons, fish out the frog pills and keep knives away from him, please. ”
The gazes locked again.
“Well, well,” said Granny, after a year or so.
“This must be some enchanted evening,” said Ridcully.
“Yes. Thats what Im afraid of. ”
“That really is you, isnt it?”
“Its really me,” said Granny
“You havent changed a bit, Esme. ”
“Nor have you, then. Youre still a rotten liar, Mustrum Ridcully”
They walked toward one another. The Librarian shuttled between them with a tray of meringues. Behind them, Ponder Stibbons grovelled on the floor for a spilled bottle of dried frog pills.
“Well, well,” said Ridcully.
“Fancy that. ”
“Small world. ”
“Yes indeed. ”
“Youre you and Im me. Amazing. And its here and now. ”
“Yes, but then was then. ”
“I sent you a lot of letters,” said Ridcully
“Never got em. ”
There was a glint in Ridcullys eye.
“Thats odd. And there was me putting all those destination spells on them too,” he said. He gave h
“What do you want to know for?”
“Indulge an old man. ”
“Nine stones, then. ”
“Hmm . . . should be about right . . . three miles hubward . . . youll feel a slight lurch to the left, nothing to worry about. . . ”
In a lightning movement, he grabbed her hand. He felt young and light-headed. The wizards back at the University would have been astonished.
“Let me take you away from all this. ”
He snapped his fingers.
There has to be at least an approximate conservation of mass. Its a fundamental magical rule. If something is moved from A to B, something that was at B has got to find itself at A.
And then theres momentum. Slow as the disc spins, various points of its radii are moving at different speeds relative to the Hub, and a wizard projecting himself any distance toward the Rim had better be prepared to land jogging.
The three miles to Lancre Bridge merely involved a faint tug, which Ridcully had been ready for, and he landed up leaning against the parapet with Esme Weatherwax in his arms.
The customs troll who had until a fraction of a second previously been sitting there ended up lying full length on the floor of the Great Hall, coincidentally on top of the Bursar.
Granny Weatherwax looked over at the rushing water, and then at Ridcully.
“Take me back this instant,” she said. “Youve got no right to do that. ”
“Dear me, I seem to have run out of power. Cant understand it, very embarrassing, fingers gone all limp,” said Ridcully. “Of course, we could walk. Its a lovely evening. You always did get lovely evenings here. ”
“It was all fifty or sixty years ago!” said Granny. “You cant suddenly turn up and say all those years havent happened. ”
“Oh, I know theyve happened all right,” said Ridcully. “Im the head wizard now. Ive only got to give an order and a thousand wizards will. . . uh . . . disobey, come to think of it, or say What?, or start to argue. But they have to take notice. ”
“Ive been to that University a few times,” said Granny. “A bunch of fat old men in beards. ”
“Thats right! Thats them!”
“A lot of em come from the Ramtops,” said Granny. “I knew a few boys from Lancre who became wizards. ”
“Very magical area,” Ridcully agreed. “Something in the air. ”
Below them, the cold black waters raced, always dancing to gravity, never flowing uphill.
“There was even a Weatherwax as Archchancellor, years ago,” said Ridcully.
“So I understand. Distant cousin. Never knew him,” said Granny.
They both stared down at the river for a moment. Occasionally a twig or a branch would whirl along in the current.
“Do you remember-”
“I have a . . . very good memory, thank you. ”
"Do you ever wonder what life would have been like if
youd said yes?" said Ridcully.
“No. ”
“I suppose wed have settled down, had children, grandchildren, that sort of thing . . . ”
Granny shrugged. It was the sort of thing romantic idiots said. But there was something in the air tonight. . .
“What about the fire?” she said.
“What fire?”
"Swept through our house just after we were married.
Killed us both. "