Hwel said nothing. The air was was good, rolling down the unclimbable slopes of the Ramtops like a sinus wash, tinted with turpentine from the high forests. They pa.s.sed through a gateway into what was, up here, probably called a town; the cosmopolitan he had become decided that, down on the plains, it would just about have qualified as an open s.p.a.ce. good, rolling down the unclimbable slopes of the Ramtops like a sinus wash, tinted with turpentine from the high forests. They pa.s.sed through a gateway into what was, up here, probably called a town; the cosmopolitan he had become decided that, down on the plains, it would just about have qualified as an open s.p.a.ce.

"There's an inn," said Tomjon doubtfully.

Hwel followed his gaze. "Yes," he said, eventually. "Yes, it probably is."

"When are we going to do the play?"

"I don't know. I think we just send up to the castle and say we're here." Hwel scratched his chin. "Fool said the king or whoever would want to see the script."

Tomjon looked around Lancre town. It seemed peaceful enough. It didn't look like the kind of place likely to turn actors out at nightfall. It needed the population.

"This is the capital city of the kingdom," said Nanny Ogg. "Well-designed streets, you'll notice."

"Streets?" said Tomjon.

"Street," corrected Granny. "Also houses in quite good repair, stone's throw from river-"

"Throw?"

"Drop," Nanny conceded. "Neat middens, look, and extensive-"

"Madam, we've come to entertain the town, not buy it," said Hwel.

Nanny Ogg looked sidelong at Tomjon.

"Just wanted you to see how attractive it is," she said.

"Your civic pride does you credit," said Hwel. "And now, please, leave the cart. I'm sure you've got some wood to gather. Lawks."

"Much obliged for the snack," said Nanny, climbing down.

"Meals," corrected Hwel.

Tomjon nudged him. "You ought to be more polite," he said. "You never know." He turned to Nanny. "Thank you, good-oh, she's gone."

"They've come to do a theater," said Nanny.

Granny Weatherwax carried on sh.e.l.ling beans in the sun, much to Nanny's annoyance.

"Well? Aren't you going to say something? I've been finding out things," she said. "Picking up information. Not sitting around making soup-"

"Stew."

"I reckon it's very important," sniffed Nanny.

"What kind of a theater?"

"They didn't say. Something for the duke, I think."

"What's he want a theater for?"

"They didn't say that, either."

"It's probably all a trick to get in the castle," Granny said knowingly. "Very clever idea. Did you see anything in the carts?"

"Boxes and bundles and such."

"They'll be full of armor and weapons, depend upon it."

Nanny Ogg looked doubtful.

"They didn't look very much like soldiers to me. They were awfully young and spotty."

"Clever. I expect in the middle of the play the king will manifest his destiny, right where everyone can see him. Good plan."

"That's another thing," said Nanny, picking up a bean pod and chewing it. "He doesn't seem to like the place much."

"Of course he does. It's in his blood."

"I brought him the pretty way. He didn't seem very impressed."

Granny hesitated.

"He was probably suspicious of you," she concluded. "He was probably too overcome to speak, really."

She put down the bowl of beans and looked thoughtfully at the trees.

"Have you got any family still working up at the castle?" she said.

"Shirl and Daff help out in the kitchens since the cook went off his head."

"Good. I'll have a word with Magrat. I think we should see this theater."

"Perfect," said the duke.

"Thank you," said Hwel.

"You've got it exactly spot on about that dreadful accident," said the duke. "You might almost have been there. Ha. Ha."

"You weren't, were you?" said Lady Felmet, leaning forward and glaring at the dwarf.

"I just used my imagination," said Hwel hurriedly. The d.u.c.h.ess glared at him, suggesting that his imagination could consider itself lucky it wasn't being dragged off to the courtyard to explain itself to four angry wild horses and a length of chain.

"Exactly right," said the duke, leafing one-handedly through the pages. "This is exactly, exactly, exactly how it was."

"Will have been," snapped the d.u.c.h.ess.

The duke turned another page.

"You're in this too," he said. "Amazing. It's a word for word how I'm going to remember it. I see you've got Death in it, too."

"Always popular," said Hwel. "People expect it."

"How soon can you act it?"

"Stage it," corrected Hwel, and added, "We've tried it out. As soon as you like." And then we can get away from here, he said to himself, away from your eyes like two raw eggs and this female mountain in the red dress and this castle which seems to act like a magnet for the wind. This is not going to go down as one of my best plays, I know that much.

"How much did we say we were going to pay you?" said the d.u.c.h.ess.

"I think you mentioned another hundred silver pieces," said Hwel.

"Worth every penny," said the duke.

Hwel left hurriedly, before the d.u.c.h.ess could start to bargain. But he felt he'd gladly pay something to be out of this place. Bijou, he thought. G.o.ds, how could anyone like a kingdom like this?

The Fool waited in the meadow with the lake. He stared wistfully at the sky and wondered where the h.e.l.l Magrat was. This was, she said, their their place; the fact that a few dozen cows also shared it at the moment didn't appear to make any difference. place; the fact that a few dozen cows also shared it at the moment didn't appear to make any difference.

She turned up in a green dress and a filthy temper.

"What's all this about a play?" she said.

The Fool sagged onto a willow log.

"Aren't you glad to see me?" he said.

"Well, yes. Of course. Now, this play..."

"My lord wants something to convince people that he is the rightful King of Lancre. Himself mostly, I think."

"Is that why you went to the city?"

"Yes."

"It's disgusting!"

The Fool sat calmly. "You would prefer the d.u.c.h.ess's approach?" he said. "She just thinks they ought to kill everyone. She's good at that sort of thing. And then there'd be fighting, and everything. Lots of people would die anyway. This way might be easier."

"Oh, where's your s.p.u.n.k, man?"

"Pardon?"

"Don't you want to die n.o.bly for a just cause?"

"I'd much rather live quietly for one. It's all right for you witches, you can do what you like, but I'm circ.u.mscribed," said the Fool.

Magrat sat down beside him. Find out all about this play Find out all about this play, Granny had ordered. Go and talk to that jingling friend of yours Go and talk to that jingling friend of yours. She'd replied, He's very loyal. He might not tell me anything He's very loyal. He might not tell me anything. And Granny had said, This is no time for half measures. If you have to, seduct him This is no time for half measures. If you have to, seduct him.

"When's this play going to be, then?" she said, moving closer.

"Marry, I'm sure I'm not allowed to tell you," said the Fool. "The duke said to me, he said, don't tell the witches that it's tomorrow night."

"I shouldn't, then," agreed Magrat.

"At eight o'clock."

"I see."

"But meet for sherry beforehand at seven-thirty, i'faith."

"I expect you shouldn't tell me who is is invited, either," said Magrat. invited, either," said Magrat.

"That's right. Most of the dignitaries of Lancre. You understand I'm not telling you this."

"That's right," said Magrat.

"But I think you have a right to know what it is you're not being told."

"Good point. Is there still that little gate around the back, that leads to the kitchens?"

"The one that is often left unguarded?"

"Yes."

"Oh, we hardly ever guard it these days."

"Do you think there might be someone guarding it at around eight o'clock tomorrow?"

"Well, I might be there."

"Good."

The Fool pushed away the wet nose of an inquisitive cow.

"The duke will be expecting you," he added.

"You said he said we weren't to know."