Lords And Ladies Part 31

The unicorn leapt on the road.

Thousands of universes, twisting together like a rope being plaited from threads...

There's bound to be leakages, a sort of mental equivalent of the channel breakthrough on a cheap hi-fi that gets you the news in Swedish during quiet bits in the music. Especially if you've spent your life using your mind as a receiver.

Picking up the thoughts of another human being is very hard, because no two minds are on the same, er, wavelength.

But somewhere out there, at the point where the parallel universes tangle, are a million minds just like yours. For a very obvious reason.

Granny Weatherwax smiled.

Millie Chillum and the king and one or two hangers-on were cl.u.s.tered around the door to Magrat's room when Nanny Ogg arrived.

"What's happening?"

"I know she's in there," said Verence, holding his crown in his hands in the famous Ai- Ai-Senor-Mexican-Bandits-Have-Raided-Our-Village position. "Millie heard her shout go away and I think she threw something at the door." position. "Millie heard her shout go away and I think she threw something at the door."

Nanny Ogg nodded sagely.

"Wedding nerves," she said. "Bound to happen."

"But we're all going to attend the Entertainment," said Verence. "She really ought to attend the Entertainment."

"Well, I dunno," said Nanny. "Seeing our Jason and the rest of 'em prancing about in straw wigs...I mean, they mean well, but it's not something a young-a fairly young-girl has to see on the night before her nuptials. You asked her to unlock the door?"

"I did better than that," said Verence. "I instructed instructed her to. That was right, wasn't it? If even Magrat won't obey me, I'm a poor lookout as king." her to. That was right, wasn't it? If even Magrat won't obey me, I'm a poor lookout as king."

"Ah," said Nanny, after a moment's slow consideration. "You've not entirely spent a lot of time in female company, have you? In a generalized sort of way?"

"Well, I-"

The crown spun in Verence's nervous fingers. Not only had the bandits invaded the village, but the Magnificent Seven had decided to go bowling instead.

"Tell you what," said Nanny, patting him on the back, "you go and preside over the Entertainment and hobn.o.b with the other n.o.bs. I'll see to Magrat, don't you worry. I've been a bride three times, and that's only the official score."

"Yes, but she should-"

"I think if we go easy on the 'shoulds,'" said Nanny, "we might all make it to the wedding. Now, off you all go."

"Someone ought to stay here," said Verence. "Shawn will be on guard, but-"

"No one's going to invade, are they?" said Nanny. "Let me sort this out."

"Well...if you're sure..."

"Go on!"

Nanny Ogg waited until she heard them go down the main staircase. After a while a rattle of coaches and general shouting suggested that the wedding party was leaving, minus the bride-to-be.

She counted to a hundred, under her breath.

Then: "Magrat?"

"Go away!"

"I know how it is," said Nanny. "I was a bit worried on the night before my wedding." She refrained from adding: because there was a reasonable chance Jason would turn up as an extra guest.

"I am not worried! I am angry angry!"

"Why?"

"You know!"

Nanny took off her hat and scratched her head.

"You've got me there," she said.

"And he he knew. I knew. I know know he knew, and I know who told him," said the m.u.f.fled voice behind the door. "It was all arranged. You must all have been laughing!" he knew, and I know who told him," said the m.u.f.fled voice behind the door. "It was all arranged. You must all have been laughing!"

Nanny frowned at the impa.s.sive woodwork.

"Nope," she said. "Still all at sea this end."

"Well, I'm not saying any more."

"Everyone's gone to the Entertainment," said Nanny Ogg. No reply.

"And later they'll be back."

A further absence of dialogue.

"Then there'll be carousing and jugglers and fellas that put weasels down their trousers," said Nanny.

Silence.

"And then it'll be tomorrow, and then what're you going to do?"

Silence.

"You can always go back to your cottage. No one's moved in. Or you can stop along of me, if you like. But you'll have to decide, d'you see, because you can't stay locked in there."

Nanny leaned against the wall.

"I remember years ago my granny telling me about Queen Amonia, well, I say queen, but she never was queen except for about three hours because of what I'm about to unfold, on account of them playing hide-and-seek at the wedding party and her hiding in a big heavy old chest in some attic and the lid slamming shut and no one finding her for seven months, by which time you could definitely say the wedding cake was getting a bit stale."

Silence.

"Well, if you ain't telling me, I can't hang around all night," said Nanny. "It'll all be better in the morning, you'll see."

Silence.

"Why don't you have an early night?" said Nanny. "Our Shawn'll do you a hot drink if you ring down. It's a bit nippy out here, to tell you the truth. It's amazing how these old stone places hang on to the chill."

Silence.

"So I'll be off then, shall I?" said Nanny, to the unyielding silence. "Not doing much good here, I can see that. Sure you don't want to talk?"

Silence.

"Stand before your G.o.d, bow before your king, and kneel before your man. Recipe for a happy life, that is," said Nanny, to the world in general. "Well, I'm going away now. Tell you what, I'll come back early tomorrow, help you get ready, that sort of thing. How about it?"

Silence.

"So that's all sorted out then," said Nanny. "Cheerio."

She waited a full minute. By rights, by the human mechanics of situations like this, the bolts should have been drawn back and Magrat should have peeped out into the corridor, or possibly even called out to her. She did not.

Nanny shook her head. She could think of at least three ways of getting into the room, and only one of them involved going through the door. But there was a time and a place for witchcraft, and this wasn't it. Nanny Ogg had led a long and generally happy life by knowing when not to be a witch, and this was one of those times.

She went down the stairs and out of the castle. Shawn was standing guard at the main gate, surrept.i.tiously practicing karate chops on the evening air. He stopped and looked embarra.s.sed as Nanny Ogg approached.

"Wish I was going to the Entertainment, Mum."

"I daresay the king will be very generous to you come payday on account of your duty," said Nanny Ogg. "Remind me to remind him."

"Aren't you going?"

"Well, I'm...I'm just going for a stroll into town," said Nanny. "I expect Esme went with 'em, did she?"

"Couldn't say, Mum."

"Just a few things I got to do."

She hadn't gone much further before a voice behind her said, "Ello, oh moon of my delight."

"You do sneak up on people, Casanunda."

"I've arranged for us to have dinner at the Goat and Bush," said the dwarf Count.

"Ooo, that's a horrible expensive place," said Nanny Ogg. "Never eaten there."

"They've got some special provisions in, what with the wedding and all the gentry here," said Casanunda. "I've made special arrangements."

These had been quite difficult.

Food as an aphrodisiac was not a concept that had ever caught on in Lancre, apart from Nanny Ogg's famous Carrot and Oyster Pie.* As far as the cook at the Goat and Bush was concerned, food and s.e.x were only linked in certain humorous gestures involving things like cuc.u.mbers. He'd never heard of chocolate, banana skins, avocado and ginger, marshmallow, and the thousand other foods people had occasionally employed to drive an A-to-B freeway through the rambling pathways of romance. Casanunda had spent a busy ten minutes sketching out a detailed menu, and quite a lot of money had changed hands. As far as the cook at the Goat and Bush was concerned, food and s.e.x were only linked in certain humorous gestures involving things like cuc.u.mbers. He'd never heard of chocolate, banana skins, avocado and ginger, marshmallow, and the thousand other foods people had occasionally employed to drive an A-to-B freeway through the rambling pathways of romance. Casanunda had spent a busy ten minutes sketching out a detailed menu, and quite a lot of money had changed hands.

He'd arranged a careful romantic candlelit supper. Casanunda had always believed in the art art of seduction. of seduction.

Many tall women accessible by stepladder across the continent had reflected how odd it was that the dwarfs, a race to whom the aforesaid art of seduction consisted in the main part of tactfully finding out what s.e.x, underneath all that leather and chain-mail, another dwarf was was, had generated someone like Casanunda.

It was as if Eskimos had produced a natural expert in the care and attention of rare tropical plants. The great pent-up waters of dwarfish s.e.xuality had found a leak at the bottom of the dam-small, but with enough power to drive a dynamo.

Everything that his fellow dwarfs did very occasionally as nature demanded he did all the time, sometimes in the back of a sedan chair and once upside down in a tree-but, and this is important, with care and attention to detail that was typically dwarfish. Dwarfs would spend months working on an exquisite piece of jewelry, and for broadly similar reasons Casanunda was a popular visitor to many courts and palaces, for some strange reason generally while the local lord was away. He also had a dwarfish ability with locks, always a useful talent for those awkward moments sur la boudoir. sur la boudoir.

And Nanny Ogg was an attractive lady, which is not the same as being beautiful. She fascinated Casanunda. She was an incredibly comfortable person to be around, partly because she had a mind so broad it could accommodate three football fields and a bowling alley.

"I wish I had my crossbow," muttered Ridcully. "With that that head on my wall I'd always have a place to hang my hat." head on my wall I'd always have a place to hang my hat."

The unicorn tossed its head and pawed the ground. Steam rose from its flanks.

"I ain't sure that would work," said Granny. "You sure you've got no whoosh left in them fingers of yours?"

"I could create an illusion," said the wizard. "That's not hard."

"It wouldn't work. The unicorn is an elvish creature. Magic don't work on 'em. They see through illusions. They ought to, they're good enough at 'em. How about the bank? Reckon you could scramble up it?"

They both glanced at the banks. They were red clay, slippery as priests.

"Let's walk backward," said Granny. "Slowly."

"How about its mind? Can you get in?"

"There's someone in there already. The poor thing's her pet. It obeys only her."

The unicorn walked after them, trying to watch both of them at the same time.

"What shall we do when we come to the bridge?"

"You can still swim, can't you?"

"The river's a long way down."