Part 15 (2/2)
The d.u.c.h.ess fingered a tray of implements lovingly. ”We shall see,” she said, picking up a pair of pliers.
”And you need not think any others of your people will come to your aid,” said the duke, who was sweating despite the chill. ”We alone hold the keys to this dungeon. Ha ha. You will be an example to all those who have been spreading malicious rumors about me. Do not protest your innocence! I hear the voices all the time, lying...”
The d.u.c.h.ess gripped him ferociously by the arm. ”Enough,” she rasped. ”Come, Leonal. We will let her reflect on her fate for a while.”
”...the faces...wicked lies...I wasn't there, and anyway he fell...my porridge, all salty...” murmured the duke, swaying.
The door slammed behind them. There was a click of locks and a thudding of bolts.
Nanny was left alone in the gloom. A flickering torch high on the wall only made the surrounding darkness more forbidding. Strange metal shapes, designed for no more exalted purpose than the destruct-testing of the human body, cast unpleasant shadows. Nanny Ogg stirred in her chains.
”All right,” she said. ”I can see you. Who are you?”
King Verence stepped forward.
”I saw you making faces behind him,” said Nanny Ogg. ”All I could do to keep a straight face myself.”
”I wasn't making faces, woman, I was scowling.”
Nanny squinted. ”'Ere, I know you,” she said. ”You're dead.”
”I prefer the term 'pa.s.sed over,'” said the king.
”I'd bow,”* said Nanny. ”Only there's all these chains and things. You haven't seen a cat around here, have you?” said Nanny. ”Only there's all these chains and things. You haven't seen a cat around here, have you?”
”Yes. He's in the room upstairs, asleep.”
Nanny appeared to relax. ”That's all right, then,” she said. ”I was beginning to worry.” She stared around the dungeon again. ”What's that big bed thing over there?”
”The rack,” said the king, and explained its use. Nanny Ogg nodded.
”What a busy little mind he's got,” she said.
”I fear, madam, that I may be responsible for your present predicament,” said Verence, sitting down on or at least just above a handy anvil. ”I wished to attract a witch.”
”I suppose you're no good at locks?”
”I fear they would be beyond my capabilities as yet...but surely-” the ghost of the king waved a hand in a vague gesture which encompa.s.sed the dungeon, Nanny and the manacles-”to a witch all this is just so much-”
”Solid iron,” said Nanny. ”You might be able to walk through it, but I can't.”
”I didn't realize,” said Verence. ”I thought witches could do magic.”
”Young man,” said Nanny, ”you will oblige me by shutting up.”
”Madam! I am a king!”
”You are also dead, so I wouldn't aspire to hold any opinions if I was you. Now just be quiet and wait, like a good boy.”
Against all his instincts, the king found himself obeying. There was no gainsaying that tone of voice. It spoke to him across the years, from his days in the nursery. Its echoes told him that if he didn't eat it all up he would be sent straight to bed.
Nanny Ogg stirred in her chains. She hoped they would turn up soon.
”Er,” said the king uneasily. ”I feel I owe you an explanation...”
”Thank you,” said Granny Weatherwax, and because Shawn seemed to be expecting it, added, ”You've been a good boy.”
”Yes'm,” said Shawn. ”M'm?”
”Was there something else?”
Shawn twisted the end of his chain-mail vest out of embarra.s.sment. ”It's not true what everyone's been saying about our mam, is it, m'm?” he said. ”She doesn't go around putting evil curses on folk. Except for Daviss the butcher. And old Cake-bread, after he kicked her cat. But they wasn't what you'd call real curses, was they, m'm?”
”You can stop calling me m'm.”
”Yes, m'm.”
”They've been saying that, have they?”
”Yes, m'm.”
”Well, your mam does upset people sometimes.”
Shawn hopped from one leg to another.
”Yes, m'm, but they says terrible things about you, m'm, savin' your presence, m'm.”
Granny stiffened.
”What things?”
”Don't like to say, m'm.”
”What things?”
Shawn considered his next move. There weren't many choices.
”A lot of things what aren't true, m'm,” he said, establis.h.i.+ng his credentials as early as possible. ”All sorts of things. Like, old Verence was a bad king and you helped him on the throne, and you caused that bad winter the other year, and old Norbut's cow dint give no milk after you looked at it. Lot of lies, m'm,” he added, loyally.
”Right,” said Granny.
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