Lords And Ladies Part 40

"Shut up," said Jason, "and put your bells on. Carter?"

"They're waiting for us!"

"I'll say this just once," said Jason. "After tonight no one's ever to talk about the Stick and Bucket dance ever again. All right?" no one's ever to talk about the Stick and Bucket dance ever again. All right?"

The Lancre Morris Men faced one another, rain plastering their clothes to their bodies.

Carter, tears of terror mingling with makeup and the rain, squeezed the accordion. There was the long-drawn-out chord that by law must precede all folk music to give bystanders time to get away.

Jason held up his hand and counted his fingers.

"One, two..." His forehead wrinkled. "One, two, three..."

"...four..." hissed Tinker.

"...four," said Jason. "Dance, lads!"

Six heavy ash sticks clashed in mid-air.

"...one, two, forward, one, back, spin spin..."

Slowly, as the leaky strains of Mrs. Widgery's Lodger Mrs. Widgery's Lodger wound around the mist, the dancers leapt and squelched their way slowly through the night... wound around the mist, the dancers leapt and squelched their way slowly through the night...

"...two, back, jump jump..."

The sticks clashed again.

"They're watching us!" panted Tailor, as he bounced past Jason, "I can see see 'em!" 'em!"

"...one...two...they won't do nothing 'til the music stops!...back, two, spin spin...they loves music!...forward, hop, turn turn...one and six, beetle crushers!...hop, back, spin spin..."

"They're coming out of the bracken!" shouted Carpenter, as the sticks met again.

"I see see 'em...two, three, forward, turn...Carter...back, spin...you do a double...two, back...wandering angus down the middle..." 'em...two, three, forward, turn...Carter...back, spin...you do a double...two, back...wandering angus down the middle..."

"I'm losing it, Jason!"

"Play!...two, three, spin spin..."

"They're all round us!"

"Dance!"

"They're watching us! They're closing in!"

"...spin, back...jump...we're nearly at the road..."

"Jason!"

"Remember when...three, turn...we won the cup against Ohulan Casuals?...spin..."

The sticks met, with a thump of wood against wood. Clods of earth were kicked into the night.

"Jason, you don't mean-"

"...back, two...do it..."

"Carter's getting...one, two...out of wind..."

"...two, spin..."

"The accordion's melting, Jason," sobbed Carter.

"...one, two, forward...bean setting!"

The accordion wheezed. The elves pressed in. Out of the corner of his eye Jason saw a dozen grinning, fascinated faces.

"Jason!"

"...one, two...Carter into the middle...one, two, spin..."

Seven pairs of boots thudded down...

"Jason!"

"...one, two...spin...ready...one, two...back...back...one, two...turn...KILL...and back, one, two..."

The inn was a wreck. The elves had stripped it of everything edible and rolled out every barrel, although a couple of rogue cheeses in the cellar had put up quite a fight.

The table had collapsed. Lobster claws and candlesticks lay among the ruined meal.

Nothing moved.

Then someone sneezed, and some soot fell into the empty grate, followed by Nanny Ogg and, eventually, by the small, black, and irate figure of Casanunda.

"Yuk," said Nanny, looking around at the debris. "This really is the pips pips."

"You should have let me fight them!"

"There were too many of them, my lad."

Casanunda threw his sword on the floor in disgust.

"We were just getting to know one another properly and fifty elves burst into the place! d.a.m.n! This kind of thing happens to me all the time!"

"That's the best thing about black, it doesn't show the soot," said Nanny Ogg vaguely, dusting herself off. "They managed it, then. Esme was right. Wonder where she is? Oh, well. Come on."

"Where're we going?" said the dwarf.

"Down to my cottage."

"Ah!"

"To get my broomstick," said Nanny Ogg firmly. "I ain't having the Queen of the Fairies ruling my my children. So we'd better get some help. This has gone too far." children. So we'd better get some help. This has gone too far."

"We could go up into the mountains," said Casanunda, as they crept down the stairs. "There's thousands of dwarfs up there."

"No," said Nanny Ogg. "Esme won't thank me for this, but I'm the one who has to wave the bag o' sweets when she overreaches herself...and I'm thinking about someone who really really hates the Queen." hates the Queen."

"You won't find anyone who hates her worse than dwarfs do," said Casanunda.

"Oh, you will," said Nanny Ogg, "if you knows where to look."

The elves had been into Nanny Ogg's cottage, too. There weren't two pieces of furniture left whole.

"What they don't take they smash," said Nanny Ogg.

She stirred the debris with her foot. Gla.s.s tinkled.

"That vase was a present from Esme," she said, to the unfeeling world in general. "Never liked it much."

"Why'd they do it?" said Casanunda, looking around.

"Oh, they'd smash the world if they thought it'd make a pretty noise," said Nanny. She stepped outside again and felt around under the eaves of the low thatched roof, and pulled out her broomstick with a small grunt of triumph.

"I always shove it up there," she said, "otherwise the kids nick it and go joy-riding. You ride behind me, and I say this against my better judgement."

Casanunda shuddered. Dwarfs are generally scared of heights, since they don't often have the opportunity to get used to them.

Nanny scratched her chin, making a sandpapery sound.

"And we'll need a crowbar," she said. "There'll be one in Jason's forge. Hop on, my lad."

"I really wasn't expecting this," said Casanunda, feeling his way on to the broomstick with his eyes shut. "I was looking forward to a convivial evening, just me and you."

"It is is just me and you." just me and you."

"Yes, but I hadn't a.s.sumed there'd be a broomstick involved."

The stick left the ground slowly. Casanunda clung miserably to the bristles.

"Where're we going?" he said weakly.

"Place I know, up in the hills," said Nanny. "Ages since I've been there. Esme won't go near it, and Magrat's too young to be tole. I used to go there a lot, though. When I was a girl. Girls used to go up there if they wanted to get-oh, b.u.g.g.e.r..."

"What?"

"Thought I saw something fly across the moon, and I'm d.a.m.n sure it wasn't Esme."

Casanunda tried to look around while keeping his eyes shut.

"Elves can't fly," he muttered.

"That's all you you know," said Nanny. "They ride yarrow stalks." know," said Nanny. "They ride yarrow stalks."

"Yarrow stalks?"

"Yep. Tried it meself, once. You can get some lift out of 'em, but it plays merry h.e.l.l with the gussets. Give me a nice bundle of bristles every time. Anyway," she nudged Casanunda, "you should be right at home on one of these. Magrat says a broomstick is one of them s.e.xual metaphor things."*

Casanunda had opened one eye just long enough to see a rooftop drift silently below him. He felt sick.

"The difference being," said Nanny Ogg, "that a broomstick stays up longer. And you can use it to keep the house clean, which is more than you can say for-are you all right?"

"I really don't like this at all, Mrs. Ogg."

"Just trying to cheer you up, Mr. Casanunda."

"'Cheer' I like, Mrs. Ogg," said the dwarf, "but can we avoid the 'up'?"

"Soon be down."

"That I like." I like."

Nanny Ogg's boots sc.r.a.ped along the hard-packed mud of the smithy's yard.

"I'll leave the magic running, won't be a mo," she said. Ignoring the dwarf's bleat for help, she hopped off the stick and disappeared through the back door.

The elves hadn't been there, at least. Too much iron. She pulled a crowbar from the toolbench and hurried out again.

"You can hold this," she said to Casanunda. She hesitated. "Can't have too much luck, can we?" she said, and scurried back into the forge. This time she was out again much faster, slipping something into her pocket.

"Ready?" she said.

"No."

"Then let's go. And keep a look out. With your eyes open."