Carpe Jugulum - Terry Pratchett [66]
“Yes, Mum.”
“Nanny?” said Magrat, when Jason had hurried away.
“Yes, dear?”
“A couple of months ago, when Verence suggested that tax on liquor exports, there was a big crowd protesting in the courtyard and he said, ‘oh well, if that’s the will of the people…’”
“Well, it was the will of the people,” said Nanny.
“Oh. Right. Good.”
“Only sometimes they temp’ry forget what their will is,” said Nanny. “Now, you can leave young Esme next door with Jason’s wife…”
“I’m keeping her with me,” said Magrat. “She’s happy enough on my back.”
“You can’t do that!” said Agnes.
“Don’t you dare argue with me, Agnes Nitt,” said Magrat, drawing herself up. “And not a word out of you, Nanny.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Nanny. “The Nac mac Feegle always take their babies into battle, too. Mind you, for use as a weapon if it comes to it.”
Magrat relaxed a little. “She said her first word this morning,” she said, looking proud.
“What, at fourteen days?” said Nanny doubtfully.
“Yes. It was ‘blup.’”
“Blup?”
“Yes. It was…more of a bubble than a word, I suppose.”
“Let’s get the stuff together,” said Nanny, standing up. “We’re a coven, ladies. We’re a trio. I miss Granny as much as you do, but we’ve got to deal with things as she would.” She took a few deep breaths. “I can’t be having with this.”
“It sounds better the way she says it,” said Agnes.
“I know.”
Hodgesaargh ate his meal in the servants’ dining room off the kitchen, and ate alone. There were new people around, but Hodge-saargh generally didn’t pay much attention to non-falconers. There were always other people in the castle, and they had jobs to do, and if pressed Hodgesaargh would vaguely acknowledge the fact that if he left his laundry in a sack by the kitchen door every week, it’d be washed and dried two days later. There were his meals. The game he left on the cold slab in the long pantry got dealt with. And so on.
He was returning to the mews when one of the shadows pulled him into the darkness, with a hand clamped over his mouth.
“Mph?”
“It’s me. Mrs. Ogg,” said Nanny. “You all right, Hodgesaargh?”
“Mph,” and by this, Hodgesaargh contrived to indicate that he was fine except for someone’s thumb blocking his breathing.
“Where are the vampires?”
“Mph?”
Nanny released her grip.
“Vampires?” the falconer panted. “They the ones that walk around slowly?”
“No, that’s the…food,” said Nanny. “Any swish-looking buggers about as well? Any soldiers?”
There was a soft thud from somewhere in the shadows, and someone said “Blast, I’ve dropped the nappy bag. Did you see where it rolled?”
“Er, there’s some new ladies and gentlemen,” said Hodge-saargh. “They’re hanging around the kitchens. There’s some men in chain mail, too.”
“Damn!” said Nanny.
“There’s the little door off the main hall,” said Magrat. “But that’s always locked on the inside.”
Agnes swallowed. “All right. I’ll go in and unlock it, then.”
Nanny tapped her on the shoulder. “You’ll be all right?”
“Well, they can’t control me…”
“They can grab you, though.”
Vlad won’t want you hurt, said Perdita. You saw the way he looked at us…
“I…think I’ll be all right,” said Agnes.
“You know your own minds best, I’m sure,” said Nanny. “Got the holy water?”
“Let’s hope it works better than the garlic,” said Agnes.
“Good luck.” Nanny cocked her head. “Sounds like the mob is spontaneously arriving at the gate. Go!”
Agnes ran off into the rain, around the castle to the doors of the kitchen. They were wide open. She made it to the corridor beyond the kitchens when a hand grabbed her shoulder, and then