Wyrd Sisters - Страница 43

‘It’s probably all a trick to get in the castle,’ Granny said knowingly. ‘Very clever idea. Did you see anything in the carts?’

‘Boxes and bundles and such.’

‘They’ll be full of armour and weapons, depend upon it.’

Nanny Ogg looked doubtful.

‘They didn’t look very much like soldiers to me. They were awfully young and spotty.’

‘Clever. I expect in the middle of the play the king will manifest his destiny, right where everyone can see him. Good plan.’

‘That’s another thing,’ said Nanny, picking up a bean pod and chewing it. ‘He doesn’t seem to like the place much.’

‘Of course he does. It’s in his blood.’

‘I brought him the pretty way. He didn’t seem very impressed.’

Granny hesitated.

‘He was probably suspicious of you,’ she concluded. ‘He was probably too overcome to speak, really.’

She put down the bowl of beans and looked thoughtfully at the trees.

‘Have you got any family still working up at the castle?’ she said.

‘Shirl and Daff help out in the kitchens since the cook went off his head.’

‘Good. I’ll have a word with Magrat. I think we should see this theatre.’

——

‘Perfect,’ said the duke.

‘Thank you,’ said Hwel.

‘You’ve got it exactly spot on about that dreadful accident,’ said the duke. ‘You might almost have been there. Ha. Ha.’

‘You weren’t, were you?’ said Lady Felmet, leaning forward and glaring at the dwarf.

‘I just used my imagination,’ said Hwel hurriedly. The duchess glared at him, suggesting that his imagination could consider itself lucky it wasn’t being dragged off to the courtyard to explain itself to four angry wild horses and a length of chain.

‘Exactly right,’ said the duke, leafing one-handedly through the pages. ‘This is exactly, exactly, exactly how it was.’

‘Will have been,’ snapped the duchess.

The duke turned another page.

‘You’re in this too,’ he said. ‘Amazing. It’s a word for word how I’m going to remember it. I see you’ve got Death in it, too.’

‘Always popular,’ said Hwel. ‘People expect it.’

‘How soon can you act it?’

‘Stage it,’ corrected Hwel, and added, ‘We’ve tried it out. As soon as you like.’ And then we can get away from here, he said to himself, away from your eyes like two raw eggs and this female mountain in the red dress and this castle which seems to act like a magnet for the wind. This is not going to go down as one of my best plays, I know that much.

‘How much did we say we were going to pay you?’ said the duchess.

‘I think you mentioned another hundred silver pieces,’ said Hwel.

‘Worth every penny,’ said the duke.

Hwel left hurriedly, before the duchess could start to bargain. But he felt he’d gladly pay something to be out of this place. Bijou, he thought. Gods, how could anyone like a kingdom like this?

——

The Fool waited in the meadow with the lake. He stared wistfully at the sky and wondered where the hell Magrat was. This was, she said, their place; the fact that a few dozen cows also shared it at the moment didn’t appear to make any difference.

She turned up in a green dress and a filthy temper.

‘What’s all this about a play?’ she said.

The Fool sagged on to a willow log.

‘Aren’t you glad to see me?’ he said.

‘Well, yes. Of course. Now, this play …’

‘My lord wants something to convince people that he is the rightful King of Lancre. Himself mostly, I think.’

‘Is that why you went to the city?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s disgusting!’

The Fool sat calmly. ‘You would prefer the duchess’s approach?’ he said. ‘She just thinks they ought to kill everyone. She’s good at that sort of thing. And then there’d be fighting, and everything. Lots of people would die anyway. This way might be easier.’

‘Oh, where’s your spunk, man?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Don’t you want to die nobly for a just cause?’

‘I’d much rather live quietly for one. It’s all right for you witches, you can do what you like, but I’m circumscribed,’ said the Fool.

Magrat sat down beside him. Find out all about this play, Granny had ordered. Go and talk to that jingling friend of yours. She’d replied, He’s very loyal. He might not tell me anything. And Granny had said, This is no time for half measures. If you have to, seduct him.

‘When’s this play going to be, then?’ she said, moving closer.

‘Marry, I’m sure I’m not allowed to tell you,’ said the Fool. ‘The duke said to me, he said, don’t tell the witches that it’s tomorrow night.’

‘I shouldn’t, then,’ agreed Magrat.

‘At eight o’clock.’

‘I see.’

‘But meet for sherry beforehand at seven-thirty, i’faith.’

‘I expect you shouldn’t tell me who is invited, either,’ said Magrat.

‘That’s right. Most of the dignitaries of Lancre. You understand I’m not telling you this.’

‘That’s right,’ said Magrat.

‘But I think you have a right to know what it is you’re not being told.’

‘Good point. Is there still that little gate around the back, that leads to the kitchens?’

‘The one that is often left unguarded?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, we hardly ever guard it these days.’

‘Do you think there might be someone guarding it at around eight o’clock tomorrow?’

‘Well, I might be there.’

‘Good.’

The Fool pushed away the wet nose of an inquisitive cow.

‘The duke will be expecting you,’ he added.

‘You said he said we weren’t to know.’

‘He said I mustn’t tell you. But he also said, “They’ll come anyway, I hope they do.” Strange, really. He seemed in a very good mood when he said it. Um. Can I see you after the show?’

‘Is that all he said?’

‘Oh, there was something about showing witches their future. I didn’t understand it. I really would like to see you after the show, you know. I brought—’

‘I think I might be washing my hair,’ said Magrat vaguely. ‘Excuse me, I really ought to be going.’

‘Yes, but I brought you this pres—’ said the Fool vaguely, watching her departing figure.

He sagged as she disappeared between the trees, and looked down at the necklace wound tightly between his nervous fingers. It was, he had to admit, terribly tasteless, but it was the sort of thing she liked, all silver and skulls. It had cost him too much.

A cow, misled by his horns, stuck its tongue in his ear.

It was true, the Fool thought. Witches did do unpleasant things to people, sometimes.

——

Tomorrow night came, and the witches went by a roundabout route to the castle, with considerable reluctance.

‘If he wants us to be here, I don’t want to go,’ said Granny. ‘He’s got some plan. He’s using headology on us.’

‘There’s something up,’ said Magrat. ‘He had his men set fire to three cottages in our village last night. He always does that when he’s in a good mood. That new sergeant is a quick man with the matches, too.’

‘Our Daff said she saw them actors practisin’ this morning,’ said Nanny Ogg, who was carrying a bag of walnuts and a leather bottle from which rose a rich, sharp smell. ‘She said it was all shouting and stabbing and then wondering who done it and long bits with people muttering to themselves in loud voices.’

‘Actors,’ said Granny, witheringly. ‘As if the world weren’t full of enough history without inventing more.’

‘They shout so loud, too,’ said Nanny. ‘You can hardly hear yourself talk.’ She was also carrying, deep in her apron pocket, a lump of haunted castle rock. The king was getting in free.

Granny nodded. But, she thought, it was going to be worth it. She hadn’t got the faintest idea what Tomjon had in mind, but her inbuilt sense of drama assured her that the boy would be bound to do something important. She wondered if he would leap off the stage and stab the duke to death, and realized that she was hoping like hell that he would.

‘All hail wossname,’ she said under her breath, ‘who shall be king here, after.’

‘Let’s get a move on,’ said Nanny. ‘All the sherry’ll be gone.’

The Fool was waiting despondently inside the little wicket gate. His face brightened when he saw Magrat, and then froze in an expression of polite surprise when he saw the other two.

‘There’s not going to be any trouble, is there?’ he said. ‘I don’t want there to be any trouble. Please.’

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ said Granny regally, sweeping past.

‘Wotcha, jinglebells,’ said Nanny, elbowing the man in the ribs. ‘I hope you haven’t been keeping our girl here up late o’nights!’

‘Nanny!’ said Magrat, shocked. The Fool gave the terrified, ingratiating rictus of young men everywhere when confronted by importunate elderly women commenting on their intimately personal lives.

The older witches brushed past. The Fool grabbed Magrat’s hand.

‘I know where we can get a good view,’ he said.

She hesitated.

‘It’s all right,’ said the Fool urgently. ‘You’ll be perfectly safe with me.’

‘Yes, I will, won’t I,’ said Magrat, trying to look around him to see where the others had gone.