'If I...'the Count began, and then straightened up. 'No! I don't have to bargain! I can fight you, just as you fought me! And if I walk out of here now, I don't think there's anyone who'll dare stop me. Look at you ... all of you... and look at me. And now look at... him.' He nodded at the figure holding Vlad and Lacrimosa as still as statues. 'Is that what you want?'
'Sorry... who is this we're supposed to be looking at?' said Granny. 'Oh... Igor's "old master"? The old Count Magpyr, I believe.'
The old Count nodded gracefully. 'Your servant, madam,' he said.
'I doubt it,' said Granny.
'Oh, no one minded him,' said Piotr, from among the Escrow citizens. 'He only ever came round every few years and anyway if you remembered about the garlic he wasn't a problem. He didn't expect us to like him.'
The old Count smiled at him.
'You look familiar. One of the Ravi family, aren't you?'
'Piotr, sir. Son of Hans.'
'Ah, yes. Very similar bone structure. Do remember me to your grandmother.'
'She passed away ten years ago, sir.'
'Oh, really? I am so sorry. Time goes so quickly when you're dead.' The old master sighed. 'A very fine figure in a nightdress, as I recall.'
'Oh, he was all right,' said someone else in the crowd. 'We got a nip every now and again but we got over it.'
'That's a familiar voice,' said the vampire. 'Are you a Veyzen?'
'Yessir.'
'Related to Arno Veyzen?'
'Great-granddaddy, sir.'
'Good man. Killed me stone dead seventy-five years ago. Stake right through the heart from twenty paces. You should be proud.'
The man in the crowd beamed with ancestral pride.
'We've still got the stake hung up over the fireplace, yer honour,' he said.
'Well done. Good man. I like to see the old ways kept up'
Count Magpyr screamed.
'You can't possibly prefer that?! He's a monster!'
'But he never made an appointment!' shouted Agnes, even louder. 'I bet he never thought it was all just an arrangement!'
Count Magpyr was edging towards the door with his hostages.
'No,' he said, 'this is not how it's going to happen. If anyone really believes that I won't harm my charming hostages, perhaps you will try to stop me? Does anyone really believe that old woman?'
Nanny Ogg opened her mouth, caught Granny's eye, and shut it again. The crowd parted behind the Count as he dragged Magrat towards the door.
He walked into the figure of Mightily Oats.
'Have you ever thought of letting Om into your life?' said the priest. His voice trembled. His face glistened with sweat.
'Oh... you again?' said the Count. 'If I can resist her, little boy, you are not a problem!'
Oats held his axe before him as if it was made of some rare and delicate metal.