And Tiffany slid into the mound, which seemed bigger than when she had seen it last. The great hall was full of leaping figures and flying kilts as the Feegles danced their reels – Feegles loved a reel at any time; the slap of boot on earth was like a challenge to the universe. Then, of course, every Feegle wanted every other Feegle to know how well they had conducted themselves against the elves.
Every single one of the younger Feegles was wanting Tiffany – their hag o’ the hills – to know how brave he had been. As they gathered around, she said, ‘What are your names, boys?’
Wee Callum, a little bit tongue-tied, said, ‘I’m Callum, mistress.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Tiffany.
‘Aye, mistress, and this is my brother, Callum.’
‘Two of you?’ she said. ‘Isn’t that difficult?’
‘Och no, I know who I am and he knows who he is and so does our other brother Callum.’
‘And how did you like the fighting?’
‘Och aye, we smited them weel enough. The Big Man is a hard task master, ye ken. He sees to it that we can handle the mace and the spear and the axe. And, of course, the feets. And when the three of us got one of they scunners doon on the ground, that’s what oor boots was for.’
The old boys were marching down the lane.
And they had a new song now, one that began: ‘Ar-sol, ar-sol, a soldier’s life for me!’ And with each verse, and each step, they were standing straighter and stronger.
‘Ar-sol, ar-sol, a soldier’s life for me!
For King, for King, for King and Constabulary,
We wee, we wee, we weaken the enemies,
For they don’t want it up ’em, don’t want it up ’em, don’t want it up and over!’
And those who had wives kissed them – the wives hadn’t seen their husbands so frisky for years – and then they set off down to the pub to tell their mates all about it.
With a pint resting happily in his hand, Captain Makepeace sat on a milestone outside the pub and declaimed, ‘People of Lancre. We happy few, we extremely elderly few, have scorned the horrible elves. They say that old men forget, but we won’t. Not by a long chalk. We thought we were old – but today we found we were still young.’
And then it was time for another round of drinks. And another, with everyone wanting to stand the old boys a round, until standing was no longer an option. And still the shout went up: Was there time for another flagon?
As the moon rose to herald the hours of darkness the following day there was Geoffrey on his broomstick, which was once again hovering in the air. Tiffany shouted over at him, ‘I still don’t know how you can do that!’
‘No idea, Tiffany – can’t e
veryone?’ he replied. ‘Let’s ask, for here comes everyone.’
And indeed, now the other witches were arriving, led by Nanny Ogg and Magrat. It was time to look to the future once again – a future not now filled with elves. But the present, well, the present was filled with the chattering and gossiping of witches as the tales of the two battles were shared.
Rob Anybody had set fire to a beacon and Tiffany watched the last witches circling until there was space, then coming in to land one after the other. Not one left her stick hovering, though – it seemed as if Geoffrey was the only one who could make his broomstick do that.
‘I wonder if they’re goin’ to sneak back,’ said Nanny Ogg after a while. ‘You can’t trust Old Hairy. He was tryin’ to charm you, Tiff, by what you say.’
‘I know, but I am not charmed,’ said Tiffany. ‘Not since the one elf who tried to be a good elf is now dead. We marked the spot where we buried her, Nanny, you know. And if they do try to come back, we will be ready for them. We can put iron on the stones here on the Chalk, like you’ve laid swarf all around the Dancers in Lancre.’ Her voice hardened. ‘There is iron in my soul now. And iron in dealing with them should they dare ever to return.’
‘Well,’ said Magrat the Queen, ‘we’ve knocked them down so often now that I think he means what he said. I think it’s unlikely they will come back.’
‘I’ll drink to them not coming back then,’ said Nanny Ogg.
‘Ladies, while we are gathered,’ said Tiffany, ‘I want to talk to you about Geoffrey. He has been a great strength to us – and I know you all saw how he made the old men of Lancre into a fighting force. He is clever and cunning and careful. He knows how to listen. And he has a kind of magic.’
‘That’s true,’ said Nanny. ‘Everybody likes Geoffrey. Somehow he seems to understand everybody. Believe me, even some of them old girls would be quite happy to have him deal with their aches and pains and worse. He calms people. You all know that. He is calm itself, and the calm stays even when he has left. He doesn’t just jolly people up. After he is gone, they are somehow much better – as if life was still worth havin’. People like that, like Geoffrey, well, they makes the world, well, better.’
‘I totally agree with you,’ said Mrs Earwig.