Lords And Ladies

'Talk sense,' said Nanny. 'If Esme found out, she'd kick me round the kingdom. Anyway, the others'd spot it.'

'Perhaps we could create a small cloud or something?' said Magrat.

'No! That's cheating!'

'Well, you always cheat.'

'I cheat for myself. You can't cheat for other people.'

Granny Weatherwax slumped again.

'I could have it stopped,' said Magrat.

'You'd make an enemy for life.'

'I thought Granny was my enemy for life.'

'If you think that, my girl, you've got no understanding,' said Nanny. 'One day you'll find out Esme Weatherwax is the best friend you ever had.'

'But we've got to do something! Can't you think of anything?'

Nanny Ogg looked thoughtfully at the circle. Occasionally a little wisp of smoke curled up from her pipe.

The magical duel was subsequently recorded in Birdwhistle's book Legendes and Antiquities of the Ramptops and went as follows:

'The duel beinge ninety minutes advanced, a small boy child upon a sudden ran across the square and stept within the magic circle, whereup he fell down with a terrible scream also a flash. The olde witche looked around, got out of her chair, picked him up, and carried him to his grandmother, then went back to her seat, whilom the young witch never averted her eyes from the Sunne. But the other young witches stopped the duel averring, Look, Diamanda has wonne, the reason being, Weatherwax looked away. Whereupon the child's grandmother said in a loude voice, Oh yes? Pulle the other onne, it have got bells on. This is not a contest about power, you stupid girls, it is a contest about witchcraft, do you not even begin to know what being a witch IS?

'Is a witch someone who would look round when she heard a child scream?

'And the townspeople said, Yess!'

'That was wonderful,' said Mrs. Quamey, the storekeeper's wife. 'The whole town cheered. A true miffic quality.'

They were in the tavern's back room. Granny Weatherwax was lying on a bench with a damp towel over her face.

'Yes, it was, wasn't it?' said Magrat.

'That girl was left without a leg to stand-on, everyone says.'

'Yes,' said Magrat.

'Strutted off with her nose in a sling, as they say.'

'Yes,' said Magrat.

'Is the little boy all right?'

They all looked at Pewsey, who was sitting in a suspicious puddle on the floor in the comer with a bag of sweets and a sticky ring around his mouth.

'Right as rain,' said Nanny Ogg. 'Nothing worse'n a bit of sunburn. He screams his head off at the least little thing, bless him,' she said proudly, as if this was some kind of rare talent.

'Gytha?' said Granny, from under the towel.

'Yes?'

'You knows I don't normally touch strong licker, but I've heard you mention the use of brandy for medicinal purposes.'

'Coming right up.'

Granny raised her towel and focused one eye on Magrat.

'Good afternoon, your pre-majesty,' she said. 'Come to be gracious at me, have you?'

'Well done,' said Magrat, coldly. 'Can one have a word with you, Na-Mrs. Ogg? Outside?'

Right you are, your queen,' said Nanny.

In the alley outside Magrat spun around with her mouth open.

'You-'

Nanny held up her hand.

'I know what you're going to say,' she said. 'But there wasn't any danger to the little mite.'

'But you-'

'Me?' said Nanny. 'I hardly did anything. They didn't know he was going to run into the circle, did they? They both /reacted just like they normally would, didn't they? Fair's fair.'

'Well, in a way, but-'

'No one cheated,' said Nanny

Margrat sagged into silence. Nanny patted her on the shoulder.

'So you won't be telling anyone you saw me wave the bag of sweets at him, will you?' she said.

'No, Nanny.'

'There's a good going-to-be-queen.'

'Nanny?'

'Yes, dear?'

Magrat took a deep breath.

'How did Verence know when we were coming back?'

It seemed to Magrat that Nanny thought for just a few seconds too long.

'Couldn't say,' she said at last. 'Kings are a bit magical, mind. They can cure dandruff and that. Probably he woke up one morning and his royal prerogative gave him a tickle.'

The trouble with Nanny Ogg was that she always looked as if she was lying. Nanny Ogg had a pragmatic attitude to the truth; she told it if it was convenient and she couldn't be bothered to make up something more interesting.

'Keeping busy up there, are you?' she said.

'One's doing very well, thank you,' said Magrat, with what she hoped was queenly hauteur.

'Which one?' said Nanny.

'Which one what?'

'Which one's doing very well?'

'Me!'

'You should have said,' said Nanny, her face poker straight. 'So long as you're keeping busy, that's the important thing.'

'He knew we were coming back,' said Magrat firmly. 'He'd even got the invitations sorted out. Oh, by the way . . . there's one for you-'

'I know, one got it this morning,' said Nanny. 'Got all that fancy nibbling on the edges and gold and everything. Who's Ruservup?'

Magrat had long ago got a handle on Nanny Ogg's world-view.

'RSVP,' she said. 'It means you ought to say if you're coming.'

'Oh, one'll be along all right, catch one staying away,' said Nanny. 'Has one's Jason sent one his invite yet? Thought not. Not a skilled man with a pen, our Jason.'

'Invitation to what?' said Magrat. She was getting fed up with ones.

'Didn't Verence tell one?' said Nanny. 'It's a special play that's been written special for you.'