“What with your mum being dead and you having no female relatives and everything. . .”
Magrat still looked puzzled.
“After the wedding, is what I'm hinting about,” said Nanny.
“Oh, that. No, most of that's being done by a caterer. The cook here isn't much good at canapes and things.”
Nanny looked carefully at the ceiling.
“And what about after that?” she said. “If you catch my meaning.”
“I'm getting a lot of girls in to do the clearing up. Look, don't worry. I've thought of everything. I wish you and Granny wouldn't treat me as if I don't know anything.”
Nanny coughed. “Your man,” she said. “Been around a bit, I expect? Been walking out with dozens of young women, I've no doubt.”
“Why do you say that? I don't think he has. Fools don't have much of a private life and, of course, he's been very busy since he's been king. He's a bit shy with girls.”
o;In fact, there was a third horse I've just remembered about.”
“This isn't what you're supposed to do! You're supposed to be robbed!” shouted the coachman.
Ridcully pushed him off the board.
“We're on holiday,” he said.
The coach rattled away There was a distant cry of “And four horses, don't forget” before it rounded a bend.
The pumpkin developed a mouth.
“Have they gone?”
“Yes, boss.”
“Roll me into the shade, will you? And no one say anything about this ever again. Has anyone got any dried frog pills?”
Verence II respected witches. They'd put him on the throne. He was pretty certain of that, although he couldn't quite work out how it had happened. And he was in awe of Granny Weatherwax.
He followed her meekly toward the dungeons, hurrying to keep up with her long stride.
“What's happening, Mistress Weatherwax?”
“Got something to show you.”
“You mentioned elves.”
“That's right.”
“I thought they were a fairy story.”
“Well?”
“I mean . . . you know . . . an old wives' tale?”
“So?”
Granny Weatherwax seemed to generate a gyroscopic field - if you started out off-balance, she saw to it that you remained there.
He tried again.