tp.wyrd sisters-第26部分
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
were others behind … wavering; broken shapes; not exactly ghosts but memories; implanted in the very substances of the walls themselves by sheer pain and terror。
'My own dagger! The bastards! They killed me with my own dagger;' said the ghost of King Verence silently; raising his transparent arms and imploring the netherworld in general to witness this ultimate humiliation。 'Give me strength 。 。 。'
'Yes;' said Nanny。 'It's worth a try。'
'And now we will mence;' said the duchess。
'What?' said the guard。
'I SAID;' said Magrat; 'I've e to sell my lovely apples。 Don't you listen?'
'There's not a sale on; is there?' The guard was extremely nervous since his colleague had been taken off to the infirmary。 He hadn't taken the job in order to deal with this sort of thing。
It dawned on him。
'You're not a witch; are you?' he said; fumbling awkwardly with his pike。
'Of course not。 Do I look like one?'
The guard looked at her occult bangles; her lined cloak; her trembling hands and her face。 The face was particulary worrying。 Magrat had used a lot of powder to make her face pale and interesting。 It bined with the lavishly applied mascara to give the guard the impression that he was looking at two flies that had crashed into a sugar bowl。 He found his fingers wanted to make a sign to ward off the evil eyeshadow。
'Right;' he said uncertainly。 His mind was grinding through the problem。 She was a witch。 Just lately there'd been a lot of gossip about witches being bad for your health。 He'd been told not to let witches pass; but no…one had said anything about apple sellers。 Apple sellers were not a problem。 It was witches that were the problem。 She'd said she was an apple seller and he wasn't about to doubt a witch's word。
Feeling happy with this application of logic; he stood to one side and gave an expansive wave。
'Pass; apple seller;' he said。
'Thank you;' said Magrat sweetly。 'Would you like an apple?'
'No; thanks。 I haven't finished the one the other witch gave me。' His eyes rolled。 'Not a witch。 Not a witch; an apple seller An apple seller。 She ought to know。'
'How long ago was this?'
'Just a few minutes 。 。 。'
Granny Weatherwax was not lost。 She wasn't the kind of person who ever became lost。 It was just that; at the moment; while she knew exactly where SHE was; she didn't know the position of anywhere else。 Currently she had arrived in the kitchens again; precipitating a breakdown in the cook; who was trying to roast some celery。 The fact that several people had tried to buy apples from her wasn't improving her temper。
Magrat found her way to the Great Hall; empty and deserted at this time of day except for a couple of guards who were playing dice。 They wore the tabards of Felmet's own personal bodyguard; and stopped their game as soon as she appeared。
'Well; well;' said one; leering。 'e to keep us pany have you; my pretty。'12''
'I was looking for the dungeons;' said Magrat; to whom the words 'sexual harassment' were a mere collection of syllables。
'Just fancy;' said one of the guards; winking at the other。 'I reckon we can help you there。' They got up and stood either side of her; she was aware of two chins you could strike matches on and an overpowering smell of stale beer。 Frantic signals from outlying portions of her mind began to break down her iron…hard conviction that bad things only happened to bad people。
They escorted her down several flights of steps into a maze of dank; arched passageways as she sought hurriedly for some polite way of disengaging herself。
'I should warn you;' she said; 'I am not; as I may appear; a simple apple seller。'
'Fancy that。'
'I am; in fact; a witch。'
This did not make the impression she had hoped。 The guards exchanged glances。
'Fair enough;' said one。 'I've always wondered what it was like to kiss a witch。 Around here they do say you gets turned into a frog。'
The other guard nudged him。 'I reckon; then;' he said; in the slow; ripe tones of one who thinks that what he is about to say next is going to be incredibly funny; 'you kissed one years ago。'
The brief guffaw was suddenly interrupted when Magrat was flung against the wall and treated to a close up view of the guard's nostrils。
'Now listen to me; sweetheart;' he said。 'You ain't the first witch we've had down here; if witch you be; but you could be lucky and walk out again。 If you are nice to us; d'you see?'
There was a shrill; short scream from somewhere nearby。
'That; you see;' said the guard; 'was a witch having it the hard way。 You could do us all a favour; see? Lucky you met us; really。'
His questing hand stopped its wandering。 'What's this?' he said to Magrat's pale face。 'A knife? A knife? I reckon we've got to take that very seriously; don't you; Hron?'
'You got to tie her hands and gag her;' said Hron hurriedly。
'They can't do no magic if they can't speak or wave their hands about 。 。 。'
'You can take your hands off her!'
All three stared down the passage at the Fool。 He was jingling with rage。
'Let her go this minute!' he shouted。 'Or I'll report you!'
'Oh; you'll report us; will you?' said Hron。 'And will anyone listen to you; you earwax…coloured little twerp?'
'This is a witch we have here;' said the other guard。 'So you can go and tinkle somewhere else。' He turned back to Magrat。 'I like a girl with spirit;' he said; incorrectly as it turned out。
The Fool advanced with the bravery of the terminally angry。
'I told you to let her go;' he repeated。
Hron drew his sword and winked at his panion。
Magrat struck。 It was an unplanned; instinctive blow; its stopping power considerably enhanced by the weight of rings and bangles; her arm whirred around in an arc that connected with her captor's jaw and spun him twice before he folded up in a heap with a quiet little sigh; and incidentally with several symbols of occult significance embossed on his cheek。
Hron gaped at him; and then looked at Magrat。 He raised his sword at about the same moment that the Fool cannoned into him; and the two men went down in a struggling heap Like most small men the Fool relied on the initial mad rush to secure an advantage and was at a loss for a follow…through and it would probably have gone hard with him if Hron hadn't suddenly bee aware that a breadknife was pressed to his neck。
'Let go of him;' said Magrat; pushing her hair out of her eyes。
He stiffened。 'You're wondering whether I really would cut your throat;' panted Magrat。 'I don't know either。 Think of the fun we could have together; finding out。'
She reached down with her other hand and hauled the Few to his feet by his collar。
'Where did that scream e from?' she said; without taking her eyes off the guard。
'It was down this way。 They've got her in the torture dungeon and I don't like it; it's going too far; and I couldn't get in and I came to look for someone…'
'Well; you've found me;' said Magrat。
'You;' she said to Hron; 'will stay here。 Or run away; for all I care。 But you won't follow us。'
He nodded; and stared after them as they hurried down the passage。 'The door's locked;' said the Fool。 'There's all sorts of noises; but the door's locked。'
'Well; it's a dungeon; isn't it?'
'They're not supposed to lock from the inside!'
It was; indeed; unbudgeable。 Silence came from the other side … a busy; thick silence that crawled through the cracks and spilled out into the passage; a kind of silence that is worse than screams。
The Fool hopped from one foot to the other as Magrat explored the door's rough surface。
'Are you really a witch?' he said。 'They said you were a witch; are you really? You don't look like a witch; you look very 。 。 。 that is 。 。 。'He blushed。 'Not like a; you know; crone at all; but absolutely beautiful 。 。 。' His voice trailed into silence 。 。 。
I am totally in control of the situation; Magrat told herself。 I never thought I would be; but I am thinking absolutely clearly。
And she realised; in an absolutely clear way; that her padding had slipped down to her waist; her head felt as though a family of unhygienic birds had been nesting in it; and her eyeshadow had not so much run as sprinted。 Her dress was torn