to see Nanny Ogg. She was good at making them feel at home in their own home.
*
Lancre had always bred strong, capable women. A Lancre farmer needed a wife who’d think nothing of beating a wolf to death with her apron when she went out to get some firewood. And, while kissing initially seemed to have more charms than cookery, a stolid Lancre lad looking for a bride would bear in mind his father’s advice that kisses eventually lost their fire but cookery tended to get even better over the years, and direct his courting to those families that clearly showed a tradition of enjoying their food.
*
Granny is always there for the difficult times.
‘Maybe you could … help us?’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s my boy …’
Granny opened the door further and saw the woman standing behind Mr Slot. One look at her face was enough. There was a bundle in her arms.
Granny stepped back. ‘Bring him in and let me have a look at him.’
She took the baby from the woman, sat down on the room’s one chair, and pulled back the blanket.
‘Hmm,’ said Granny, after a while.
‘There’s a curse on this house, that’s what it is,’ said Slot. ‘My best cow’s been taken mortally sick, too.’
‘Oh? You have a cowshed?’ said Granny. ‘Very good place for a sickroom, a cowshed. It’s the warmth. You better show me where it is.’
You want to take the boy down there?’
‘Right now.’
The man looked at his wife, and shrugged. ‘Well, I’m sure you know your business best,’ he said. ‘It’s this way’
He led the witches down some back stairs and across a yard and into the fetid sweet air of the byre. A cow was stretched out on the straw. It rolled an eye madly as they entered, and tried to moo.
Granny took in the scene and stood looking thoughtful for a moment.
Then she said, ‘This will do.’
‘What do you need?’ said Slot.
‘All I shall require is a candle,’ said Granny. ‘A new one, for preference.’
‘That’s all?’
‘And some matches,’ said Granny. A pack of cards might be useful, too.’
The child was brought down in a blanket and made as comfortable as possible.
‘You just leave me in here tonight. And no one is to come in, right? No matter what.’
The mother gave a worried curtsey. ‘But I thought I might look in about midn—’
‘No one. Now, off you go.’
Granny closed the door.
She spent some time arranging boxes and barrels so that she had a crude table and something to sit on. The air was warm and smelled of bovine flatulence. Periodically she checked the health of both patients, although there was little enough to check.
She waited a little longer and then lit the candle. Its cheery flame gave the place a warm and comforting glow.
After some immeasurable piece of time the flame flickered. It would have passed unnoticed by anyone who hadn’t been concentrating on it for some while.
She took a deep breath and—
‘Good morning,’ said Granny Weatherwax.
GOOD MORNING, said a voice by her ear.
Granny breathed out, slowly.
‘Come and sit where I can see you. That’s good manners. And let me tell you right now that I ain’t at all afraid of you.’
The tall, black-robed figure walked across the floor and sat down on a handy barrel, leaning its scythe against the wall. Then it pushed back its hood. Granny folded her arms and stared calmly at the visitor, meeting his gaze eye-to-socket.
Death leaned forward. The candlelight raised new shadows on his skull.
COURAGE IS EASY BY CANDLELIGHT. YOUR FAITH, I SUSPECT, IS IN THE FLAME.
Granny leaned forward, and blew out the candle. Then she folded her arms again and stared fiercely ahead of her.
After some length of time a voice said, All right, you’ve made your point.
Granny lit a match. Its flare illuminated the skull opposite, which hadn’t moved.
‘Fair enough,’ she said, as she relit the candle. ‘We don’t want to be sitting here all night, do we? How many have you come for?’
ONE.
‘The cow?’
Death shook his head.
‘It could be the cow.’
NO. THAT WOULD BE CHANGING HISTORY.
‘History is about things changing.’
NO.
Granny sat back.
‘Then I challenge you to a game. That’s traditional. That’s allowed.’
Death was silent for a moment.
THIS IS TRUE.
‘Good.’
HOWEVER … YOU UNDERSTAND THAT TO WIN ALL YOU MUST GAMBLE ALL?
‘Double or quits? Yes, I know.’
BUT NOT CHESS.
‘Can’t abide chess.’
OR CRIPPLE MR ONION. I’VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO UNDERSTAND THE RULES.
‘Very well. How about one hand of poker? Five cards each, no draws? Sudden death, as they say’
Death thought about this, too.
YOU KNOW THIS FAMILY?
No.
THEN WHY?
‘Are we