'Crives! Sezu? Helweit! Summun hol' me cote! Gude! Now, summun hol' his arms!'
'Stitch this, f'ra ma brinnit goggel!' Some more glass broke.
'We'll all go back into the castle,' said Nanny. 'On our terms. Face this count down. And we'll take garlic and lemons and all the other stuff. And some of Mr Oats's holy water. You can't tell me all that stuff together won't work.'
'And they'll let us in, will they?' said Agnes.
'They'll have a lot to think about,' said Nanny. 'What with a mob at the gates. We can nip in round the back.'
'What mob?' said Magrat.
'We'll organize one,' said Nanny.
'You don't organize a mob, Nanny,' said Agnes. 'A mob is something that happens spontaneously.'
Nanny Ogg's eyes gleamed.
'There's seventy-nine Oggs in these parts,' she said. 'Spontaneous it is, then.'
Her gaze fell for a moment on the forest of familial pictures, and then she removed a boot and hammered on the wall beside her. After a few seconds they heard a door bang and footsteps pass in front of the window.
Jason Ogg, blacksmith and head male of the Ogg clan, poked his head around the front door.
'Yes, Mum?'
'There's going to be a spontaneous mob stormin' the castle in, oh, half an hour,' said Nanny. 'Put the word out.'
'Yes, Mum.'
'Tell everyone I said it ain't compuls'ry for them to be there, of course,' Nanny added. Jason glanced at the hierarchy of Oggs. Nanny didn't have to add anything more to that sentence. Everyone knew the cat's box sometimes needed lining.
'Yes, Mum. I'll tell 'em you said they didn't have to come if they don't want to.'
'Good boy.'
'Is it flaming torches or, you know, scythes and stuff?'
'That's always tricky,' said Nanny. 'But I'd say both.'
'Battering ram, Mum?'
'Er... no, I don't think so.'
'Good! It is my door, after all,' said Magrat.
'Anythin' special for people to yell, Mum?'
'Oh, general yellin', I think.'
'Anything to throw?'
'Just rocks on this occasion,' said Nanny.
'Not large ones!' said Magrat. 'Some of the stonework around the main gate is quite fragile.'
'Okay, nothin' harder than sandstone, understand? And tell our Kev to roll out a barrel of my Number Three beer,' said Nanny. 'Better pour a bottle of brandy in it to keep out the chill. It can really strike right through your coat when you're hanging around outside a castle chantin' and wavin'. And get our Nev to run up to Poorchick's and say Mrs Ogg presents her compliments and we want half a dozen big cheeses and ten dozen eggs, and tell Mrs Carter will she be so good as to let us have a big jar of those pickled onions she does so well. It's a shame that we've not time to roast something, but I suppose you have to put up with that sort of inconvenience when you're being spontaneous.' Nanny Ogg winked at Agnes.
'Yes, Mum.'