Witches Abroad

Behind his huge brooding shape clustered the rest of Na

"We'm off then, our Jason," said Na

Jason's hairy brow creased in intense thought.

"Us could do with a new anvil down forge," he volunteered.

"If I come back rich, you won't never have to go down the forge ever again," said Na

Jason frowned.

"But I likes t'forge," he said, slowly.

Na

"Wunt be no good, ma. It'd be too soft," said Jason.

"If I brings you back an anvil made of solid silver you shall have an anvil made of solid silver, my lad, whether you likes it or not!"

Jason hung his huge head. "Yes, mum," he said.

"You see to it that someone comes in to keep the house aired every day reg'lar," said Na

"Yes, mum."

"And everyone's to go in through the back door, you hear? I've put a curse on the front porch. Where's those girls got to with my luggage?" She scurried off, a small grey bantam scolding a flock of hens.

Magrat listened to all this with interest. Her own preparations had consisted of a large sack containing several changes of clothes to accommodate whatever weather foreign parts might suffer from, and a rather smaller one containing a number of useful-looking books from Desiderata Hollow's cottage. Desiderata had been a great note-taker, and had filled dozens of little books with neat writing and chapter headings like ‘With Wand and Broomstick Across the Great Nef Desert".

What she had never bothered to do, it seemed, was write down any instructions for the wand. As far as Magrat knew, you waved it and wished.

Along the track to her cottage, several unanticipated pumpkins bore witness to this as an unreliable strategy. One of them still thought it was a stoat.

Now Magrat was left alone with Jason, who shuffled his feet.

He touched his forelock. He'd been brought up to be respectful to women, and Magrat fell broadly into this category.

"You will look after our mum, won't you, Mistress Garlick?" he said, a hint of worry in his voice. "She'm acting awful strange."

Magrat patted him gently on the shoulder.

"This sort of thing happens all the time," she said. "You know, after a woman's raised a family and so on, she wants to start living her own life."

"Whose life she bin living, then?"

Magrat gave him a puzzled look. She hadn't questioned the wisdom of the thought when it had first arrived in her head.

"You see, what it is," she said, making an explanation up as she went along, "there comes a time in a woman's life when she wants to find herself."

"Why dint she start looking here?" said Jason plaintively. "I mean, I ain't wanting to talk out of turn, Miss Garlick, but we was looking to you to persuade her and Mistress Weatherwax not to go."

"I tried," said Magrat. "I really did. I said, you don't want to go, I said. A

Jason put his head on one side. Jason Ogg wouldn't end up in the finals of the All-Discworld uptake speed trials, but he knew his own mother.

"You said all that to our mum?" he said.

"Look, don't worry," said Magrat, "I'm sure no harm can- "

There was a crash somewhere over their heads. A few autumn leaves spiralled gently towards the ground.

"Bloody tree... who put that bloody tree there?" came a voice from on high.

"That'll be Gra

It was one of the weak spots of Gra

"Well, now we're all here," said Magrat brightly.

It didn't work. Gra

"And what do you think you're wearing?" she said.

"Ah. Um. I thought... I mean, it gets cold up there... what with the wind and everything," Magrat began. She had been dreading this, and hating herself for being so weak. After all, they were practical. The idea had come to her one night. Apart from anything else, it was almost impossible to do Air Lobsang Dibbler's cosmic harmony death kicks when your legs kept getting tangled in a skirt.

"Trousers?"

"They're not exactly the same as ordinary - "

"And there's men ‘ere lookin'," said Gra

"What is?" said Na

"Magrat Garlick, standin' there bifurcated," said Gra

"Just so long as she got the young man's name and address," said Na

"Na

"I think they look quite comfy," Na

"I don't ‘old with it," said Gra

"No they can't," said Na

"Yes, but they can see where her legs are," said Gra

"That's silly. That's like saying everyone's naked under their clothes," said Magrat.

"Magrat Garlick, may you be forgiven," said Gra

"Well, it's true!"

"I'm not," said Gra

She looked Na

"And will you look at your hat," she mumbled. Na

"All the go, ain't it?" she said. "Made by Mr Vernissage over in Slice. It's got willow reinforcing all the way up to the point and eighteen pockets inside. Can stop a blow with a hammer, this hat. And how about these?"

Na

"Red?" said Gra

"I likes ‘em," said Na

Gra

"Just so long as they also say they've got dry feet," said Na

"I'll write you letters if you promise to find someone to read them to you," she said.

"Yes, mum. What about the cat, mum?" said Jason.

"Oh, Greebo's coming with us," said Na

"What? But he's a cat!" snapped Gra

"He'll miss his mummy if he's left behind, won't he," crooned Na

To Na

To the rest of the world he was an enormous tomcat, a parcel of incredibly indestructible life forces in a skin that looked less like a fur than a piece of bread that had been left in a damp place for a fortnight. Strangers often took pity on him because his ears were non-existent and his face looked as though a bear had camped on it. They could not know that this was because Greebo, as a matter of feline pride, would attempt to fight or rape absolutely anything, up to and including a four-horse logging wagon. Ferocious dogs would whine and hide under the stairs when Greebo sauntered down the street. Foxes kept away from the village. Wolves made a detour.