Wyrd Sisters

Hwel was silent. He was staring at nothing at all. After a while one hand fumbled in his doublet and brought out a sheaf of paper, and then disappeared in the direction of his belt and produced a small corked ink pot and a bundle of quills.

They watched as, without once looking at them, the dwarf smoothed out the paper, opened the ink pot, dipped a quill, held it poised like a hawk waiting for its prey, and then began to write.

Vitoller nodded at Tomjon.

Walking as quietly as they could, they left the room.

***

Around mid-afternoon they took up a tray of food and a bundle of paper.

The tray was still there at teatime. The paper had gone.

A few hours later a passing member of the company reported hearing a yell of ‘It can’t work! It’s back to front!’ and the sound of something being thrown across the room.

Around supper Vitoller heard a shouted request for more candles and fresh quills.

Tomjon tried to get an early night, but sleep was murdered by the sound of creativity from the next room. There were mutterings about balconies, and whether the world really needed wave machines. The rest was silence, except for the insistent scratching of quills.

Eventually, Tomjon dreamed.

‘Now. Have we got everything this time?’

‘Yes, Granny.’

‘Light the fire, Magrat.’

‘Yes, Granny.’

‘Right. Let’s see now—’

‘I wrote it all down, Granny.’

‘I can read, my girl, thank you very much. Now, what’s this. “Round about the cauldron go,^{55} In the poisoned entrails throw …” What are these supposed to be?’

‘Our Jason slaughtered a pig yesterday, Esme.’

‘These look like perfectly good chitterlin’s to me, Gytha. There’s a couple of decent meals in them, if I’m any judge.’

‘Please, Granny.’

‘There’s plenty of starvin’ people in Klatch who wouldn’t turn up their nose at ‘em, that’s all I’m saying … All right, all right. “Whole grain wheat and lentils too, In the cauldron seethe and stew”? What happened to the toad?’

‘Please, Granny. You’re slowing it down. You know Goodie was against all unnecessary cruelty. Vegetable protein is a perfectly acceptable substitute.’

‘That means no newt or fenny snake either, I suppose?’

‘No, Granny.’

‘Or tiger’s chaudron?’

‘Here.’

‘What the hell’s this, excuse my Klatchian?’

‘It’s a tiger’s chaudron. Our Wane brought it off a merchant from forn parts.’

‘You sure?’

‘Our Wane asked special, Esme.’

‘Looks like any other chaudron to me. Oh, well. “Double hubble, stubble trouble, Fire burn and cauldron bub—”^{56} WHY isn’t the cauldron bubbling, Magrat?’

Tomjon awoke, shivering. The room was dark. Outside a few stars pierced the mists of the city, and there was the occasional whistle of burglars and footpads as they went about their strictly lawful occasions.

There was silence from the next room, but he could see the light of a candle under the door.

He went back to bed.

Across the turgid river the Fool had also awakened. He was staying in the Fool’s Guild, not out of choice but because the duke hadn’t given him any money for anything else, and getting to sleep had been difficult in any case. The chilly walls had brought back too many memories. Besides, if he listened hard he could hear the muted sobs and occasional whimpers from the students’ dormitories, as they contemplated with horror the life that lay ahead of them.

He punched the rock-hard pillow, and sank into a fitful sleep. Perchance to dream.^{57}

‘Slab and grue, yes. But it doesn’t say how slab and grue.’

‘Goodie Whemper recommended testing a bit in a cup of cold water, like toffee.’

‘How inconvenient that we didn’t think to bring one, Magrat.’