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But only inside," said Lily.
Insides where it counts, said Granny.
Outsides quite important, mind, said Nanny.
Lots of people are animals inside. Lots of animals are people inside, said Lily. Wheres the harm?
Hes a frog.
Especially at night, said Nanny. It had occurred to her that a husband who was a man all night and a frog all day might be almost acceptable; you wouldnt get the wage packet, but thered be less wear and tear on the furniture. She also couldnt put out of her mind certain private speculations about the length of his tongue.
And you killed the Baron, said Magrat.
You think he was a particularly nice man? said Uly. Besides, he didnt show me any respect. If youve got no respect, youve got nothing.
Nanny and Magrat found themselves looking at Granny.
Hes a frog.
I found him in the swamp, said Lily. I could tell he was pretty bright. I needed someone . . . amenable to persuasion. Shouldnt frogs have a chance? Hell be no worse a husband than many. Just one kiss from a princess seals the spell.
A lot of men are animals, said Magrat, whod picked up the idea from somewhere.
Yes. But hes a frog, said Granny.
Look at it my way, said Lily. You see this country? Its all swamps and fogs. Theres no direction. But I can make this a great city. Not a sprawling place like Ankh-Morpork, but a place that works.
The girl doesnt want to marry a frog.
What will that matter in a hundred years time?
It matters now.
Lily threw up her hands. What do you want, then? Its your choice. Theres me . . . or theres that woman in the swamp. Light or dark. Fog or sunshine. Dark chaos or happy endings.
Hes a frog, and you killed the old Baron, said Granny.
Youd have done the same, said Lily.
No, said Granny. Id have thought the same, but I wouldnt have done it.
What difference does that make, deep down?
You mean you dont know? said Nanny Ogg.
Lily laughed.
Look at the three of you, she said. Bursting with inefficient good intentions. The maiden, the mother and the crone.
Who are you calling a maiden? said Nanny Ogg.
Who are you calling a mother? said Magrat.
Granny Weatherwax glowered briefly like the person who has discovered that there is only one straw left and everyone else has drawn a long one.
Now, what shall I do with you? said Lily. I really am against killing people unless its necessary, but I cant have you running around acting stupidly . . .
She looked at her fingernails.
So I think I shall have you put away somewhere until this has run its course. And then . . . can you guess what Im going to do next?
Im going to expect you to escape. Because, after all, I am the good one.
Ella walked cautiously through the moonlit swamp, following the strutting shape of Legba. She was aware of movement in the water, but nothing emerged - bad news like Legba gets around, even among alligators.
An orange light appeared irrthe distance. It turned out to be Mrs Gogols shack, or boat, or whatever it was. In the swamp, the difference between the water and the land was practically a matter of choice.
Hallo? Is there anyone there?
Come along in, child. Take a seat. Rest up a little.
Ella stepped cautiously on to the rocking veranda. Mrs Gogol was sitting in her chair, a white-clad raggedy doll in her lap.
Magrat said -
I know all about it. Come to Erzulie.
Who are you?
I am your - friend, girl.
Ella moved so as to be ready to run.
Youre not a godmother of any kind, are you?
No. No gods. Just a friend. Did anyone follow you?
I. . . dont think so.
Its no matter if they did, girl. No matter if they did. Maybe we ought to move out into the river for a spell, even so. Well be a lot safer with water all round.
The shack lurched.
You better sit down. The feets make it shaky until we get into deep water.
Ella risked a look, nevertheless.
Airs Gogols hut travelled on four large duck feet, which were now rising out of the swamp. They splashed their way through the shallows and, gently, sculled out into the river.
Greebo woke up and stretched.
And the wrong sort of arms and legs!
Mrs Pleasant, who had been sitting watching him, put down her glass.
What do you want to do now, Mr Cat? she said.
Greebo padded over to the door into the outside world and scratched at it.
Waant to go owwwt, Miss-uss Pleas-unt, he said.
You just have to turn the handle there, she said.
Greebo stared at the door handle like someone trying to come to terms with a piece of very advanced technology, and then gave her a pleading look.
She opened the door for him, stood aside as he slunk out, and then shut it, locked it and leaned against it.
Embers bound to be safe with Mrs Gogol, said Magrat.
Hah! said Granny.
I quite liked her, said Nanny Ogg.
I dont trust anyone who drinks rum and smokes a pipe, said Granny.
Nanny Ogg smokes a pipe and drinks anything, Magrat pointed out.
Yes, but thats because shes a disgustin old baggage, said Granny, without looking up.
Nanny Ogg took her pipe out of her mouth.
Thats right, she said amiably. You aint nothing if you dont maintain an image.
Granny looked up from the lock.
Cant shift it, she said. Its octiron, too. Cant magic it open.
Its daft, locking us up, said Nanny. Id have had us killed.
Thats because youre basically good, said Magrat. The good are innocent and create justice. The bad are guilty, which is why they invent mercy.
No, I know why shes done this, said Granny, darkly. Its sos well know weve lost.
But she said wed escape, said Magrat. I dont understand. She must know the good ones always win in the end!
Only in stories, said Granny, examining the door hinges. And she thinks shes in charge of the stories. She bends them round herself. She thinks shes the good one.
Mind you, said Magrat, I dont like swamps. If it wasnt for the frog and everything, Id see Lilys point -
Then youre nothing but a daft godmother, snapped Granny, still fiddling with the lock. You cant go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise its just a cage. Besides, you dont build a better world by choppin heads off and giving decent girls away to frogs.
But progress - Magrat began.
Dont you talk to me about progress. Progress just means bad things happen faster. Anyone got another hatpin? This ones useless.
Nanny, who had Greebos ability to make herself instantly at home wherever she happened to be, sat down in the corner of the cell.
I heard this story once, she said, where this bloke got locked up for years and years and he learned amazin stuff about the universe and everythin from another prisoner who was incredibly clever, and then he escaped and got his revenge.
What incredibly clever stuff do you know about the universe, Gytha Ogg? said Granny.
Bugger all, said Nanny cheerfully.
Then wed better bloody well escape right now.
Nanny pulled a scrap of pasteboard out of her hat, found a scrap of pencil up there too, licked the end and thought for a while. Then she wrote: Dear Jason unt so witer (as they say in foreign parts),
Well heres a thing yore ole Mum doin Time in prison again, Im a old lag, youll have to send me a cake with a phial in it and I shall have little arrows on my close just my joke. This is a Sketch of the dunjon. Im putting a X where we are, which is Inside. Magrat is shown wering a posh dress, she has been acting like a C
ourgette. Also inc. Esme getting fed up becaus she cant get the lock to work but I expect it will all be OK because the good ones win in the end and thats US. And all because some girl dont want to marry a Prince who is a Duck who is really a Frog and I cant say I blame her, you dont want descendants who have got Jenes and start off living in a jamjar and then hop about and get squashed. . .
She was interrupted by the sound of a mandolin being played quite well, right on the other side of the wall, and a small but determined voice raised in song.
— si consuenti damoure, ventre dimo tondreturo-ooo -
How I hunger my love for the dining-room of your warm maceration, said Nanny, without looking up.
- della della tozentro, audri tdren vontarieeeeee -
The shop, the shop, I have a lozenge, the sky is pink, said Nanny.
Granny and Magrat looked at one another.
- guarunto del tart, bella pore di larientos -
Rejoice, candlemaker, you have a great big -
I dont believe any of this, said Granny. Youre making it up.
Word for word translation, said Nanny. I can speak foreign like a native, you know that.
Mrs Ogg? Is that you, my love?
They all looked up towards the barred window. There was a small face peering in.
Casanunda? said Nanny.
Thats me, Mrs Ogg.
My love, muttered Granny.
How did you get up to the window? said Nanny, ignoring this.
I always know where I can get my hands on a step-ladder, Mrs Ogg.
I suppose you dont know where you can get your hands on a key?
Wouldnt do any good. Theres too many guards outside your door, Mrs Ogg. Even for a famous swordsman like me. Her ladyship gave strict orders. No-ones to listen to you or look at you, even.
How come youre in the palace guard, Casanunda?
Soldier of fortune takes whatever jobs are going, Mrs Ogg, said Casanunda earnestly.
But all the rest of em are six foot tall and youre - of the shorter persuasion.
I lied about my height, Mrs Ogg. Im a world-famous liar.
Is that true?
No.
What about you being the worlds greatest lover?
There was silence for a while.
Well, maybe Im only No. 2, said Casanunda. But I try harder.
Cant you go and find us a file or something, Mr Casanunda? said Magrat.
Ill see what I can do, Miss.
The face disappeared.
Maybe we could get people to visit us and then we could escape in their clothes? said Nanny Ogg.
Now Ive gone and stuck the pin in my finger, muttered Granny Weatherwax.
Or maybe we could get Magrat to seduce one of the guards, said Nanny.
Why dont you? said Magrat, as nastily as she could manage.
All right. Im game.
Shut up, the pair of you, said Granny. Im trying to think -
There was another sound at the window.
It was Legba.
The black cockerel peered in between the bars for a moment, and then fluttered away.
Gives me the creeps, that one, said Nanny. Cant look at him without thinking wistfully of sage-and-onion and mashed potatoes.
Her crinkled face crinkled further.
Greebo! she said. Whered we leave him?
Oh, hes only a cat, said Granny Weatherwax. Cats know how to look after themselves.
Hes really just a big softie - Nanny began, before someone started pulling down the wall.
A hole appeared. A grey hand appeared and grasped another stone. There was a strong smell of river mud.
Rock crumbled under heavy fingers.
Ladies? said a resonant voice.
Well, Mister Saturday, said Nanny, as I live and breathe - saving your presence, ocourse.
Saturday grunted something and walked away.
There was a hammering on the door and someone started fumbling with keys.
We dont want to hang around here, said Granny. Come on.