Carpe Jugulum - Terry Pratchett [60]
“No, but the stuff—” Agnes stopped. “Well, we thought you wanted us to.”
“Three witches?” said Granny. “Well, no reason why not. The maiden, the mother and the—”
“Go carefully,” Nanny Ogg warned.
“—the other one,” said Granny. “That’s up to you, I’m sure. It’s not something about which I would venture any sort of opinion. So I expect you’ve got some dancin’ to be doing, and good day to you. I’ll have my pillow back, thank you very much.”
“You know there’s vampires in Lancre?” Nanny demanded.
“Yes. They got invited.”
“You know they’re taking over?”
“Yes!”
“So why did you run away up here?” said Agnes.
The temperature of a deep cave should remain constant, but suddenly this one was a lot colder.
“I can go where I like,” said Granny.
“Yes, but you ought—” Agnes began. She wished she could bite the word back, but it was too late.
“Oh, ought, is it? Where does it say ought? I don’t remember it saying ought anywhere. Anyone going to tell me where it says ought? There’s lots of things that ought, I dare say. But they ain’t.”
“You know a magpie stole your invite?” said Nanny. “Shawn delivered it okay, but them thieving devils had it away and into a nest.”
She flourished the crumpled, smudged yet gold-laden invitation.
In the moment of silence Agnes fancied she could hear the stalactites grow.
“Yes, of course I did,” said Granny. “Worked that out first thing.” But the moment had been just slightly too long, and just slightly too quiet.
“And you know Verence got an Omnian priest in to do the naming of young Esme?”
Again…fractionally too long, infinitesimally too silent.
“You know I put my mind to business,” said Granny. She glanced at the baby sitting on Magrat’s lap.
“Why’s she got a pointy head?” she said.
“It’s the little hood Nanny knitted for her,” said Magrat. “It’s meant to look like that. Would you like to hold her?”
“She looks comfortable where she is,” said Granny diffidently.
She didn’t know the baby’s name! Perdita whispered. I told you! Nanny thinks Granny’s been in the baby’s mind, I can tell by the way she’s been looking at her, but if she did she’d know the name and she doesn’t, I swear. She wouldn’t do anything that might hurt a child…
Granny shook herself. “Anyway, if there’s a problem, well, you’ve got your three witches. It doesn’t say anywhere that one of them ought,” she nodded at Agnes, “to be Granny Weatherwax. You sort it out. I’ve been witching in these parts for altogether too long and it’s time to…move on…do something else…”
“You’re going to hide up here?” said Magrat.
“I’m not going to keep on repeating myself, my girl. People aren’t going to tell me what I ought to do no more. I know what’s ought and what’s not. Your husband invited vampires into the country, did he? That’s modern for you. Well, everyone else knows that a vampire don’t have no power over you ’less you invite it in, and if it’s a king as does the inviting, then they’ve got their teeth into the whole country. And I’m an ol’ woman living in the woods and I’ve got to make it all better? When there’s three of you? I’ve had a lifetime of ought from can to can’t and now it’s over, and I’ll thank you for gettin’ out of my cave. And that’s an end of it.”
Nanny glanced at the other two and shrugged.
“Come on, then,” she said. “If we get a wiggle on we can be back at the broomsticks before dark.”
“Is that all?” said Magrat.
“Things come to an end,” said Granny. “I’m going to rest up here and then I’m on my way. Plenty of places to go.”
Now get her to tell you the truth, said Perdita. Agnes bit down. Ought had been bad enough.
“So we’ll be getting along,” said Nanny. “Come on.”
“But—”
“But me no buts,” said Nanny. “As Granny would have said.”
“That’s right!” said Granny, lying back.
As they filed back into the caves Agnes heard Perdita start counting.
Magrat patted her pockets. Nanny patted her knickerlegs.
Magrat said, “Oh, I must have le—”
“Blow, I left my pipe back there,” said Nanny, so quickly that the sentence overtook the one in front.
Five seconds, said Perdita. “I didn’t