Ah . . . well, this was more like it.
Except that there weren't any roses. The walled garden had been stripped of its walks and arbors and was now waist high in green stalks with white flowers. Bees were furiously at work in the blossoms.
“Beans?” said Magrat.
“Yes! A specimen crop. I keep bringing the farmers up here to show them,” said Verence. He sighed. “They nod and mumble and smile but I'm afraid they just go off and do the same old things.”
“I know,” said Magrat. “The same thing happened when I tried to give people lessons in natural childbirth.”
Verence raised an eyebrow. Even to him the thought of Magrat giving lessons in childbirth to the fecund and teak-faced women of Lancre was slightly unreal.
“Really? How had they been having babies before?” he said.
“Oh, any old way,” said Magrat. They looked at the little buzzing bean field.
“Of course, when you're queen, you won't need to-” Verence began.
It happened softly, almost like a kiss, as light as the touch of sunlight.
There was no wind, only a sudden heavy calmness that made the ears pop.
The stems bent and broke, and lay down in a circle. The bees roared, and fled.
The three witches arrived at the standing stone together.
They didn't even bother with explanations. There were some things you know.
“In the middle of my bloody herbs!” said Granny Weatherwax.
“On the palace garden!” said Magrat.
“Poor little mite! And he was holding it up to show me, too!” said Nanny Ogg.
Granny Weatherwax paused.
“What're you talking about, Gytha Ogg?” she said.
“Our Pewsey was growing mustard-and-cress on a flannel for his Nan,” said Nanny Ogg, patiently. “He shows it to me, right enough, and just as I bends down and - splat! Crop circle!”
“This,” said Granny Weatherwax, “is serious. It's been years since they've been as bad as this. We all know what it means, don't we. What we've got-”
“Um,” said Magrat.
“-to do now is-”
“Excuse me,” said Magrat. There were some things you had to be told.
“Yes?”
“I don't know what it means,” said Magrat. “I mean, old Goodie Whemper-”
“-maysherestinpeace-” the older witches chorused.
“-told me once that the circles were dangerous, but she never said anything about why.”
The older witches shared a glance.
“Never told you about the Dancers?” said Granny Weatherwax.