‘No! I did not do it! It was not like that! You cannot say it was like that! You were not there!’ He stared at the upturned faces around him, and sagged.
‘Nor was I,’ he giggled. ‘I was asleep at the time, you know. I remember it quite well. There was blood on the counterpane, there was blood on the floor, I could not wash off the blood, but these are not proper subjects for the inquiry. I cannot allow the discussion of national security. It was just a dream, and when I awoke, he’d be alive tomorrow. And tomorrow it wouldn’t have happened because it was not done. And tomorrow you can say I did not know. And tomorrow you can say I had no recollection. What a noise he made in falling! Enough to wake the dead … who would have thought he had so much blood in him?…’ By now he had climbed on to the stage, and grinned brightly at the assembled company.
‘I hope that sorts it all out,’ he said. ‘Ha. Ha.’
In the silence that followed Tomjon opened his mouth to utter something suitable, something soothing, and found that there was nothing he could say.
But another personality stepped into him, took over his lips, and spoke thusly:
‘With my own bloody dagger, you bastard! I know it was you! I saw you at the top of the stairs, sucking your thumb! I’d kill you now, except for the thought of having to spend eternity listening to your whining. I, Verence, formerly King of—’
‘What testimony is this?’ said the duchess. She stood in front of the stage, with half a dozen soldiers beside her.
‘These are just slanders,’ she added. ‘And treason to boot. The rantings of mad players.’
‘I was bloody King of Lancre!’ shouted Tomjon.
‘In which case you are the alleged victim,’ said the duchess calmly. ‘And unable to speak for the prosecution. It is against all precedent.’
Tomjon’s body turned towards Death.
‘You were there! You saw it all!’
I SUSPECT I WOULD NOT BE CONSIDERED AN APPROPRIATE WITNESS.
‘Therefore there is no proof, and where there is no proof there is no crime,’ said the duchess. She motioned the soldiers forward.
‘So much for your experiment,’ she said to her husband. ‘I think my way is better.’
She looked around the stage, and found the witches.
‘Arrest them,’ she said.
‘No,’ said the Fool, stepping out of the wings.
‘
‘Yeah.’
‘We ought to talk about this. We ought to get extra for witches.’
‘She could do anything to us, look. She could be a drabe, even.’
‘Don’t be foolish,’ said the duchess. ‘Witches don’t do that sort of thing. They’re just stories to frighten people.’
The guard shook his head.
‘It looked pretty convincing to me.’
‘Of course it did, it was
‘I’ll show you the power of these witches,’ she said, and hurled it at Granny’s face.
Granny moved her hand across at snakebite speed and caught the spear just behind the head.
‘So,’ she said, ‘and it comes to this, does it?’
‘You don’t frighten me, wyrd sisters,’ said the duchess.
Granny stared her in the eye for a few seconds. She gave a grunt of surprise.
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘We really don’t, do we …’
‘Do you think I haven’t studied you? Your witchcraft is all artifice and illusion, to amaze weak minds. It holds no fears for me. Do your worst.’
Granny studied her for a while.
‘My worst?’ she said, eventually. Magrat and Nanny Ogg shuffled gently out of her way.
The duchess laughed.
‘You’re clever,’ she said. ‘I’ll grant you that much. And quick. Come on, hag. Bring on your toads and demons, I’ll …’
She stopped, her mouth opening and shutting a bit without any words emerging. Her lips drew back in a rictus of terror, her eyes looked beyond Granny, beyond the world, towards something else. One knuckled hand flew to her mouth and she made a little whimpering noise. She froze, like a rabbit that has just seen a stoat and knows, without any doubt, that it is the last stoat that it will ever see.