Part 15 (1/2)

and let me see how bad things are in this place!”

”Which sickroom, miss?” she asked me. ”We've nothing but sickrooms on this whole second floor.””How many are down?” I demanded, but she only shrugged.”I've lost count, miss... might could be thirty, might could be twice that.”

”And both your Grannys.”

”And both our Grannys.”

”Well, take me to Granny Copperdell, then,” I said, ”and set down

that basin-whatever it is, it's no use to anybody now.”

She turned without a word, but I had to take the useless basin from her hands myself, and I followed where she led me. I could smell the sickness now, and I wanted those windows open at the front of the Castle, and fresh air in here as fast as it could decently be

accomplished.

”Are many people sick in the town?” I asked her, wis.h.i.+ng she'd hurry.

”Oh no, miss,” she said. ”Not in the town. Only in the Castle.”

Hmmmph. That would be fuel for the dratted Wommack curse, of

course.

She knocked twice at a doorway, and then opened it and stood aside to let me pa.s.s, saying, ”That's Granny Copperdell there in the bed, miss, and I hope you can do something for her, for I surely can't.

And I'm too busy to stay with you, so you'll excuse me, please.”

And she was gone.

”Well, Granny Copperdelll” I said, making it a cautious challenge.

”So this is how you run things!”

Hers was the only bed in the room, and she was tiny in it; three featherbeds under her, I was willing to wager, and half a dozen pillows propping her up in them.

”Land, who is it bothering me now?” came from the depths of the bedclothes, and I saw an encouraging flurry. ”Can't leave an old woman to die in peace, can you? Come near me and torment me again with one of your so-called Magicians and you'll find out if I'm sick, I warn you, and me that's sick and tired of warning you-all! Magicians! Phaugh-what's a Magician know about healing? No more use than- Well, who be you?”

It did my heart good. She might be sick, but she surely was not dying. She was behaving absolutely as a Granny ought to behave,

and that meant I'd get useful information here at least.

”It's only me, Granny Copperdell, Responsible of Bright.w.a.ter,” I said. ”And sorry to see you so poorly. May I come sit by you there?”

”Come ahead,” she ranted, ”come right ahead! Why ask? If it's not

one sort of meanness, it'll be another... why can't you stay home where you belong, 'stead of meddling in our affairs, and tormenting an old woman as is about to draw her last breath?”

I tried the bed, but it was impossible; you sank into the feather-beds and disappeared from sight unless you weighed no more than a Granny, and that did not apply to me.

”You get a chair and get yourself off my bed!” she ordered me, whacking at me with a handkerchief like I was a gerdafly; and I did so gladly, pulling the chair up close beside her head.

”Now, Granny Copperdell,” I said firmly, ”there's no need for you to keep on with your carry-on. It doesn't impress me, and I'll be no use here if I don't hear some sense and hear it quick.”

”Likely,” she said. ”Likely!”

”Granny, you know I'm right,” I said, ”you a Bright.w.a.ter by birth; and every Castle on this planet knows quite well why I'm traveling round it. You're in a wild place here for sure, but this high up the

reception on your comsets is certain to be perfect. You know why I'm here!”

”Took you long enough,” she muttered.

”No comset on my Mule, Granny,” I said. ”I've been four days, and

all of them long days, flying here, and I've landed only to make my camp and sleep; I've had no news. If I'd known there was trouble here I'd not of stopped for anything.”

She sighed then, and settled back, and I plumped up her pillows for her.