o;Oh, yes,” said Shawn. “Uh. Sheet iron is really you.”
“You really think so?”
“Oh, yes,” said Shawn, inventing madly. “You've got the figure for it.”
She set and splinted his arm and fingers, working methodically, using strips of silk as bandages. Diamanda was less easy. Magrat cleaned and stitched and bandaged, while Shawn sat and watched, trying to ignore the insistent hot-ice pain from his arm.
He kept repeating, “They just laughed and stabbed her. She didn't even try to run away. It was like they were playing.”
For some reason Magrat shot a glance at Greebo, who had the decency to look embarrassed.
“Pointy ears and hair you want to stroke,” she said, vaguely. “And they can fascinate you. And when they're happy they make a pleasing noise.”
“What?”
“Just thinking to myself.” Magrat stood up. “OK. I'll build up the fire and fetch a couple of crossbows and load them up for you. And you keep the door shut and let no one in, d'you hear? And if I don't come back . . . try and go somewhere where there's people. Get up to the dwarfs at Copperhead. Or the trolls.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I'm going to see what's happened to everyone.”
Magrat opened the sack she'd brought down from the armoury. There was a helmet in it. It had wings on, and to Shawn's mind was quite impractical.[37] There was also a pair of mail gloves and a choice assortment of rusty weaponry.
“But there's probably more of those things out there!”
“Better out there than in here.”
“Can you fight?”
“Don't know. Never tried,” said Magrat.
“But if we wait here, someone's bound to come.”
“Yes. I'm afraid they will.”
“What I mean is, you don't have to do this!”
“Yes I do. I'm getting married tomorrow. One way or the other.”
“But-”
“Shut up!”
She's going to get killed, Shawn thought. It's enough to be able to pick up a sword. You have to know which end to poke into the enemy. I'm supposed to be on guard and she's going to get killed-
But-
But-
She shot one of them in the eye, right through the keyhole. I couldn't have done that. I'd have said something like “Hands up!” first. But they were in the way and she just. . . got them out of her way.
She's still going to die. She's just probably going to die bravely.
I wish my mum was here.
Magrat finished rolling up the stained remnant of the wedding dress and stowed it in the sack.
“Have we got any horses?”