tp.wyrd sisters-第51节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　The　standing　stone　was　back　in　its　normal　place；　but　still　poised　to　run　if　any　auditors　came　into　view。
　The　witches　sat　in　careful　silence。　This　was　not　going　to　rate　among　the　hundred　most　exciting　coven　meetings　of　all　time。　If　Mussorgsky　had　seen　them；　the　night　on　the　bare　mountain　would　have　been　over　by　teatime。
　Then　Granny　Weatherwax　said；　'It　was　a　good　banquet；　I　thought。'
　'I　was　nearly　sick；'　said　Nanny　Ogg　proudly。　'And　my　Shirl　helped　out　in　the　kitchen　and　brought　me　home　some　scraps。'
　'I　heard；'　said　Granny　coldly。　'Haifa　pig　and　three　bottles　of　fizzy　wine　went　missing；　they　say。'
　'It's　nice　that　some　people　think　of　the　old　folk；'　said　Nanny　Ogg；　pletely　unabashed。　'I　got　a　coronation　mug；　too。'　She　produced　it。　'It　says　〃Viva　Verence　II　Rex〃。　Fancy　him　being　called　Rex。　I　can't　say　it's　a　good　likeness；　mind　you。　I　don't　recall　him　having　a　handle　sticking　out　of　his　ear。'
　There　was　another　long；　terribly　polite　pause。　Then　Granny　said；　'We　were　a　bit　surprised　you　weren't　there；　Magrat。'
　'We　thought　you'd　be　up　at　the　top　of　the　table；　kind　of　thing；'　said　Nanny。　'We　thought　you'd　have　moved　in　up　there。'
　Magrat　stared　fixedly　at　her　feet。
　'I　wasn't　invited；'　she　said　meekly。
　'Well；　I　don't　know　about　invited；'　said　Granny。　'We　weren't　invited。　People　don't　have　to　invite　witches；　they　just　know　we'll　turn　up　if　we　want　to。　They　soon　find　room　for　us；'　she　added；　with　some　satisfaction。
　'You　see；　he's　been　very　busy；'　said　Magrat　to　her　feet。　'Sorting　everything　out；　you　know。　He's　very　clever；　you　know。　Underneath。'
　'Very　sober　lad；'　said　Nanny。
　'Anyway；　it's　full　moon；'　said　Magrat　quickly。　'You've　got　to　go　to　coven　meetings　at　full　moon；　no　matter　what　other　pressing　engagements　there　may　be。'
　'Have　y…？'　Nanny　Ogg　began；　but　Granny　nudged　her　sharply　in　the　ribs。
　'It's　a　very　good　thing　he's　paying　so　much　attention　to　getting　the　kingdom　working　again；'　said　Granny；　soothingly。　'It　shows　proper　consideration。　I　daresay　he'll　get　around　to　everything；　sooner　or　later。　It's　very　demanding；　being　a　king。'
　'Yes；'　said　Magrat；　her　voice　barely　audible。
　The　silence　that　followed　was　almost　solid。　It　was　broken　by　Nanny；　in　a　voice　as　bright　and　brittle　as　ice。
　'Well；　I　brought　a　bottle　of　that　fizzy　wine　with　me；'　she　said。　'In　case　he'd　。　。　。　in　case　。　。　。　in　case　we　felt　like　a　drink；'　she　rallied；　and　waved　it　at　the　other　two。
　'I　don't　want　any；'　said　Magrat　sullenly。
　'You　drink　up；　girl；'　said　Granny　Weatherwax。　'It's　a　chilly　night。　It'd　be　good　for　your　chest。'
　She　squinted　at　Magrat　as　the　moon　drifted　out　from　behind　its　cloud。
　'Here；'　she　said。　'Your　hair　looks　a　bit　grubby。　It　looks　as　though　you　haven't　washed　it　for　a　month。'
　Magrat　burst　into　tears。
　
　The　same　moon　shone　down　on　the　otherwise　unremarkable　town　of　Rham　Nitz；　some　ninety　miles　from　Lancre。
　Tomjon　left　the　stage　to　thunderous　applause　at　the　concluding　act　of　The　Troll　ofAnkh。　A　hundred　people　would　go　home　tonight　wondering　whether　trolls　were　really　as　bad　as　they　had　hitherto　thought　although；　of　course；　this　wouldn't　actually　stop　them　disliking　them　in　any　way　whatsoever。
　Hwel　patted　him　on　the　back　as　he　sat　down　at　the　makeup　table　and　started　scraping　off　the　thick　grey　sludge　that　was　intended　to　make　him　look　like　a　walking　rock。
　'Well　done；'　he　said。　'The　love　scene　…　just　right。　And　when　you　turned　around　and　roared　at　the　wizard　I　shouldn't　think　there　was　a　dry　seat　in　the　house。'
　'I　know。'
　Hwel　rubbed　his　hands　together。
　'We　can　afford　a　tavern　tonight；'　he　said。　'So　if　we　just…'
　'We'll　sleep　in　the　carts；'　said　Tomjon　firmly；　squinting　at　himself　in　the　shard　of　mirror。
　'But　you　know　how　much　the　Fo　…　the　king　gave　us！　It　could　be　feather　beds　all　the　way　home！'
　'It's　straw　mattresses　and　a　good　profit　for　us；'　said　Tomjon。　'And　that'll　buy　you　gods　from　heaven　and　demons　from　hell　and　the　wind　and　the　waves　and　more　trapdoors　than　you　can　count；　my　lawn　ornament。'
　Hwel's　hand　rested　on　Tomjon's　shoulder　for　a　moment。　Then　he　said；　'You're　right；　boss。'
　'Certainly　I　am。　How's　the　play　going？'
　'Hmm？　What　play？'　said　Hwel；　innocently。
　Tomjon　carefully　removed　a　plaster　brow　ridge。
　'You　know；'　he　said。　'That　one。　The　Lancre　King。'
　'Oh。　ing　along。　ing　along；　you　know。　I'll　get　it　right　one　of　these　days。'　Hwel　changed　the　subject　with　speed。　'You　know；　we　could　work　our　way　down　to　the　river　and　take　a　boat　home。　That　would　be　nice；　wouldn't　it？'
　'But　we　could　work　our　way　home　over　land　and　pick　up　some　more　cash。　That　would　be　better；　wouldn't　it？'　Tomjon　grinned。　'We　took　one　hundred　and　three　pence　tonight；　I　counted　heads　during　the　Judgement　speech。　That's　nearly　one　silver　piece　after　expenses。'
　'You're　your　father's　son；　and　no　mistake；'　said　Hwel。
　Tomjon　sat　back　and　looked　at　himself　in　the　mirror。
　'Yes；'　he　said；　'I　thought　I　had　better　be。'
　
　Magrat　didn't　like　cats　and　hated　the　idea　of　mousetraps。　She'd　always　felt　that　it　should　be　possible　to　e　to　some　sort　of　arrangement　with　creatures　like　mice　so　that　all　available　food　was　rationed　in　the　best　interest　of　all　parties。　This　was　a　very　humanitarian　outlook；　which　is　to　say　that　it　was　not　a　view　shared　by　mice；　and　therefore　her　moonlit　kitchen　was　alive。
　When　there　was　a　knocking　at　the　door　the　entire　floor　appeared　to　rush　towards　the　walls。
　After　a　few　seconds　the　knocking　came　again。
　There　was　another　pause。　Then　the　knocking　rattled　the　door　on　its　hinges；　and　a　voice　cried；　'Open　in　the　name　of　the　king！'
　A　second　voice　said；　in　hurt　tones；　'You　don't　have　to　shout　like　that。　Why　did　you　shout　like　that？　I　didn't　order　you　to　shout　like　that。　It's　enough　to　frighten　anybody；　shouting　like　that。'
　'Sorry；　sire！　It　goes　with　the　job；　sire！'
　'Just　knock　again。　A　bit　more　gently；　please。'
　The　knocking　might　have　been　a　bit　softer。　Magrat's　apron　dropped　off　its　hook　on　the　back　of　the　door。
　'Are　you　sure　I　can't　do　it　myself？'
　'It's　not　done；　sire；　kings　knocking　at　humble　cottage　doors。　Best　leave　it　to　me。　OPEN　IN　THE…'
　'Sergeant！'
　'Sorry；　sire。　Forgot　myself。'
　'Try　the　latch。'
　There　was　the　sound　of　someone　being　extremely　hesitant。
　'Don't　like　the　sound　of　that；　sire；'　said　the　invisible　sergeant。　'Could　be　dangerous。　If　you　want　my　advice；　sire；　I'd　set　fire　to　the　thatch。'
　'Set　fire？'
　'Yessire。　We　always　do　that　if　they　don't　answer　the　door。　Brings　them　out　a　treat。'
　'I　don't　think　that　would　be　appropriate；　sergeant。　I　think　I'll　try　the　latch；　if　it's　all　the　same　to　you。'
　'Breaks　my　heart　to　see　you　do　it；　sire。'
　'Well；　I'm　sorry。'
　'You　could　at　least　let　me　buff　it　up　for　you。'
　'No！'
　'Well；　couldn't　I　just　set　fire　to　the　privy…？'
　'Absolutely　not！'
　'That　chicken　house　over　there　looks　as　if　it　would　go　up　like…'
　'Sergeant！'
　'Sire！'
　'Go　back　to　the　castle！'
　'What；　and　leave　you　all　alone；　sire？'
　'This　is　a　matter　of　extreme　delicacy；　sergeant。　I　am　sure　you　are　a　man　of　sterling　qualities；　but　there　are　times　when　even　a　king　needs　to　be　alone。　It　concerns　a　young　woman；　you　understand。'
　'Ah。　Point　taken；　sire；'
　'Thank　you。　Help　me　dismount；　please。'
　'Sorry　about　all　that；　sire。　Tactless　of　me。'
　'Don't　mention　it。'
　'If　you　need　any　help　getting　her　alight…'
　'Please　go　back　to　the　castle；　sergeant。'
　'Yes；　sire。　If　you're　sure；　sire。　Thank　you；　sire。'
　'Sergeant？'
　'Yes；　sire？'
　'I　shall　need　someone　to　take　my　cap　and　bells　back　to　the　Fools'　Guild　in　Ankh…Morpork　now　I'm　leaving。　It　seems　to　me　you're　the　ideal　man。'
　'Thank　you；　sire。　Much　obliged。'
　'It's　your；　ah；　burning　desire　to　be　of　service。'
　'Yes；　sire？'
　'Make　sure　they　put　you　up　in　one　of　the　guest　rooms。'
　'Yes；　sire。　Thank　you；　sire。'
　There　was　the　sound　of　a　horse　trotting　away。　A　few　seconds　later　the　latch　clonked　and　the　Fool　crept　in。
　It　takes　considerable　courage　to　enter　a　witch's　kitchen　in　the　dark；　but　probably　no　more　than　it　takes　to　wear　a　purple　shirt　with　velvet　sleeves　and　scalloped　edges。　It　had　this　in　its　favour；　though。　There　were　no　bells　on　it。
　He　had　brought　a　bottle　of　sparkling　wine　and　a　bouquet　of　flowers；　both　of　which　had　gone　flat　during　the　journey。　He　laid　them　on　the　table；　and　sat　down　by　the　embers　of　the　fire。
　He　rubbed　his　eyes。　It　had　been　a　long　day。　He　wasn't；　he　felt；　a　good　king；　but　he'd　had　a　lifetime　of　working　hard　at　being　something　he　wasn't　cut　out　to　be；　and　he　was　persevering。　As　far　as　he　could　see；　none　of　his　predecessors　had　tried　at　all。　So　much　to　do；　so　much　to　repair；　so　much　to　organise　。　。　。
　On　top　of　it　all　there　was　the　problem　with　the　duchess。　Somehow　he'd　felt　moved　to　put　her　in　a　decent　cell　in　an　airy　tower。　She　was　a　widow；　after　all。　He　felt　he　ought　to　be　kind　to　widows。　But　being　kind　to　the　duchess　didn't　seem　to　achieve　much；　she　didn't　understand　it；　she　thought　it　was　just　weakness。　He　was　dreadfully　afraid　that　he　might　have　to　have　her　head　cut　off。
　No；　being　a　king　was　no　laughing　matter。　He　brightened　up　at　the　thought。　There　was　that　to　be　said　about　it。
　And；　after　a　while；　he　fell　asleep。
　
　The　duchess　was　not　asleep。　She　w