tp.wyrd sisters-第3部分

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　'But　you　did　what　you　thought　was　right；'　said　Granny。
　'I　didn't　bee　a　soldier　for　this。　Not　to　go　round　killing　people。'
　'Exactly　right。　If　I　was　you；　I'd　bee　a　sailor；'　said　Granny　thoughtfully。　'Yes；　a　nautical　career。　I　should　start　as　soon　as　possible。　Now；　in　fact。　Run　off；　man。　Run　off　to　sea　where　there　are　no　tracks。　You　will　have　a　long　and　successful　life；　I　promise。'　She　looked　thoughtful　for　a　moment；　and　added；　'At　least；　longer　than　it's　likely　to　be　if　you　hang　around　here。'
　He　pulled　himself　upward；　gave　her　a　look　pounded　of　gratitude　and　awe；　and　ran　off　into　the　mist。
　'And　now　perhaps　someone　will　tell　us　what　this　is　all　about？'　said　Granny；　turning　to　the　third　man。
　To　where　the　third　man　had　been。
　There　was　the　distant　drumming　of　hooves　on　the　turf；　and　then　silence。
　Nanny　Ogg　hobbled　forward。
　'I　could　catch　him；'　she　said。　'What　do　you　think？'
　Granny　shook　her　head。　She　sat　down　on　a　rock　and　looked　at　the　child　in　her　arms。　It　was　a　boy；　no　more　than　two　years　old；　and　quite　naked　under　the　blanket。　She　rocked　him　vaguely　and　stared　at　nothing。
　Nanny　Ogg　examined　the　two　corpses　with　the　air　of　one　for　whom　laying…out　holds　no　fears。
　'Perhaps　they　were　bandits；'　said　Magrat　tremulously。
　Nanny　shook　her　head。
　'A　strange　thing；'　she　said。　'They　both　wear　this　same　badge。　Two　bears　on　a　black　and　gold　shield。　Anyone　know　what　that　means？'
　'It's　the　badge　of　King　Verence；'　said　Magrat。
　'Who's　he？'　said　Granny　Weatherwax。
　'He　rules　this　country；'　said　Magrat。
　'Oh。　That　king；'　said　Granny；　as　if　the　matter　was　hardly　worth　noting。
　'Soldiers　fighting　one　another。　Doesn't　make　sense；'　said　Nanny　Ogg。　'Magrat；　you　have　a　look　in　the　coach。'
　The　youngest　witch　poked　around　inside　the　bodywork　and　came　back　with　a　sack。　She　upended　it；　and　something　thudded　on　to　the　turf。
　The　storm　had　rumbled　off　to　the　other　side　of　the　mountain　now；　and　the　watery　moon　shed　a　thin　gruel　of　light　over　the　damp　moorland。　It　also　gleamed　off　what　was；　without　any　doubt；　an　extremely　important　crown。
　'It's　a　crown；'　said　Magrat。　'It's　got　all　spiky　bits　on　it。'
　'Oh；　dear；'　said　Granny。
　The　child　gurgled　in　its　sleep。　Granny　Weatherwax　didn't　hold　with　looking　at　the　future；　but　now　she　could　feel　the　future　looking　at　her。
　She　didn't　like　its　expression　at　all。
　King　Verence　was　looking　at　the　past；　and　had　formed　pretty　much　the　same　view。
　'You　can　see　me？'　he　said。
　'Oh；　yes。　Quite　clearly；　in　fact；'　said　the　newer。
　Verence's　brows　knotted。　Being　a　ghost　seemed　to　require　considerably　more　mental　effort　than　being　alive；　he'd　managed　quite　well　for　forty　years　without　having　to　think　more　than　once　or　twice　a　day；　and　now　he　was　doing　it　all　me　time。
　'Ah；'　he　said。　'You're　a　ghost；　too。'
　'Well　spotted。'
　'It　was　the　head　under　your　arm；'　said　Verence；　pleased　with　himself。　'That　gave　me　a　clue。'
　'Does　it　bother　you？　I　can　put　it　back　on　if　it　bothers　you；'　said　the　old　ghost　helpfully。　He　extended　his　free　hand。　'Pleased　to　meet　you。　I'm　Champot；　King　of　Lancre。'
　'Verence。　Likewise。'　He　peered　down　at　the　old　king's　features　and　added；　'Don't　seem　to　recall　seeing　your　picture　in　the　Long　Gallery　。　。　。'
　'Oh；　all　that　was　after　my　time；'　said　Champot　dismissively。
　'How　long　have　you　been　here；　then？'
　Champot　reached　down　and　rubbed　his　nose。　'About　a　thousand　years；'　he　said；　his　voice　tinged　with　pride。　'Man　and　ghost。'
　'A　thousand　years！'
　'I　built　this　place；　in　fact。　Just　got　it　nicely　decorated　when　my　nephew　cut　my　head　off　while　I　was　asleep。　I　can't　tell　you　how　much　that　upset　me。'
　'But　。　。　。　a　thousand　years　。　。　。'　Verence　repeated；　weakly。
　Champot　took　his　arm。　'It's　not　that　bad；'　he　confided；　as　he　led　the　unresisting　king　across　the　courtyard。　'Better　than　being　alive；　in　many　ways。'
　'They　must　be　bloody　strange　ways；　then！'　snapped　Verence。　'I　liked　being　alive！'
　Champot　grinned　reassuringly。　'You'll　soon　get　used　to　it；'　he　said。
　'I　don't　want　to　get　used　to　it！'
　'You've　got　a　strong　morphogenic　field；'　said　Champot。　'I　can　tell。　I　look　for　these　things。　Yes。　Very　strong；　I　should　say。'
　'What's　that？'
　'I　was　never　very　good　with　words；　you　know；'　said　Champot。　'I　always　found　it　easier　to　hit　people　with　something。　But　I　gather　it　all　boils　down　to　how　alive　you　were。　When　you　were　alive；　I　mean。　Something　called…'　he　paused　…　'animal　vitality。　Yes；　that　was　it。　Animal　vitality。　The　more　you　had；　the　more　you　stay　yourself；　as　it　were；　if　you're　a　ghost。　I　expect　you　were　one　hundred　per　cent　alive；　when　you　were　alive；'　he　added。
　Despite　himself；　Verence　felt　flattered。　'I　tried　to　keep　myself　busy；'　he　said。　They　had　strolled　through　the　wall　into　the　Great　Hall；　which　was　now　empty。　The　sight　of　the　trestle　tables　triggered　an　automatic　reaction　in　the　king。
　'How　do　we　go　about　getting　breakfast？'　he　said。
　Champot's　head　looked　surprised。
　'We　don't；'　he　said。　'We're　ghosts。'
　'But　I'm　hungry！'
　'You're　not；　you　know。　It's　just　your　imagination。'
　There　was　a　clattering　from　the　kitchens。　The　cooks　were　already　up　and；　in　the　absence　of　any　other　instructions；　were　preparing　the　castle's　normal　breakfast　menu。　Familiar　smells　were　wafting　up　from　the　dark　archway　that　led　to　the　kitchens。
　Verence　sniffed。
　'Sausages；'　he　said　dreamily。　'Bacon。　Eggs。　Smoked　fish。'　He　stared　at　Champot。　'Black　pudding；'　he　whispered。
　'You　haven't　actually　got　a　stomach；'　the　old　ghost　pointed　out。　'It's　all　in　the　mind。　Just　force　of　habit。　You　just　think　you're　hungry。'
　'I　think　I'm　ravenous。'
　'Yes；　but　you　can't　actually　touch　anything；　you　see；'　Champot　explained　gently。　'Nothing　at　all。'
　Verence　lowered　himself　gently　on　to　a　bench；　so　that　he　did　not　drift　through　it；　and　sank　his　head　in　his　hands。　He'd　heard　that　death　could　be　bad。　He　just　hadn't　realised　how　bad。
　He　wanted　revenge。　He　wanted　to　get　out　of　this　suddenly　horrible　castle；　to　find　his　son。　But　he　was　even　more　terrified　to　find　that　what　he　really　wanted；　right　now；　was　a　plate　of　kidneys。
　
　A　damp　dawn　flooded　across　the　landscape；　scaled　the　battlements　of　Lancre　Castle；　stormed　the　keep　and　finally　made　it　through　the　casement　of　the　solar。
　Duke　Felmet　stared　out　gloomily　at　the　dripping　forest。　There　was　such　a　lot　of　it。　It　wasn't；　he　decided；　that　he　had　anything　against　trees　as　such；　it　was　just　that　the　sight　of　so　much　of　them　was　terribly　depressing。　He　kept　wanting　to　count　them。
　'Indeed；　my　love；'　he　said。
　The　duke　put　those　who　met　him　in　mind　of　some　sort　of　lizard；　possibly　the　type　that　lives　on　volcanic　islands；　moves　once　a　day；　has　a　vestigial　third　eye　and　blinks　on　a　monthly　basis。　He　considered　himself　to　be　a　civilised　man　more　suited　to　the　dry　air　and　bright　sun　of　a　properly…organised　climate。
　On　the　other　hand；　he　mused；　it　might　be　nice　to　be　a　tree。　Trees　didn't　have　ears；　he　was　pretty　sure　of　this。　And　they　seemed　to　manage　without　the　blessed　state　of　matrimony。　A　male　oak　tree　…　he'd　have　to　look　this　up　…　a　male　oak　tree　just　shed　its　pollen　on　the　breeze　and　all　the　business　with　the　acorns；　unless　it　was　oak　apples；　no；　he　was　pretty　sure　it　was　acorns；　took　place　somewhere　else　。　。　。
　'Yes；　my　precious；'　he　said。
　Yes；　trees　had　got　it　all　worked　out。　Duke　Felmet　glared　at　the　forest　roof。　Selfish　bastards。
　'Certainly；　my　dear；'　he　said。
　'What？'　said　the　duchess。
　The　duke　hesitated；　desperately　trying　to　replay　the　monologue　of　the　last　five　minutes。　There　had　been　something　about　him　being　half　a　man；　and　。　。　。　infirm　on　purpose？　And　he　was　sure　there　had　been　a　plaint　about　the　coldness　of　the　castle。　Yes；　that　was　probably　it。　Well；　those　wretched　trees　could　do　a　decent　day's　work　for　once。
　'I'll　have　some　cut　down　and　brought　in　directly；　my　cherished；'　he　said。
　Lady　Felmet　was　momentarily　speechless。　This　was　by　way　of　being　a　calendar　event。　She　was　a　large　and　impressive　woman；　who　gave　people　confronting　her　for　the　first　time　the　impression　that　they　were　seeing　a　galleon　under　full　sail；　the　effect　was　heightened　by　her　unfortunate　belief　that　red　velvet　rather　suited　her。　However；　it　didn't　set　off　her　plexion。　It　matched　it。
　The　duke　often　mused　on　his　good　luck　in　marrying　her。　If　it　wasn't　for　the　engine　of　her　ambition　he'd　be　just　another　local　lord；　with　nothing　much　to　do　but　hunt；　drink　and　exercise　his　droit　de　seigneur。＇2＇　Instead；　he　was　now　just　a　step　away　from　the　throne；　and　might　soon　be　monarch　of　all　he　surveyed。
　Provided　that　all　he　surveyed　was　trees。　He　sighed。
　'Cut　what　down？'　said　Lady　Felmet；　icily。
　'Oh；　the　trees；'　said　the　duke。
　'What　have　trees　got　to　do　with　it？'
　'Well。　。　。　there　are　such　a　lot　of　them；'　said　the　duke；　with　feeling。
　'Don't　change　the　subject！'
　'Sorry；　my　sweet。'
　'What　I　said　was；　how　could　you　have　been　so　stupid　as　to　let　them　get　away？　I　told　you　that　servant　was　far　too　loyal。　You　can't　trust　someone　like　that。'
　'No；　my　love。'
　'You　didn't　by　any　chance　consider　sending　someone　after　them；　I　suppose？'
　'Bentzen；　my　dear。　And　a　couple　of　guards。'
　'Oh。'　The　duchess　paused。　Bentzen；　as　captain　of　the　duke's　personal　bodyguard；　was　as　efficient　a　killer　as　a　psychotic　mongoose。　He　would　have　been　her　choice。　It　annoyed　her　to　be　temporarily　deprived　of　a　chance　to　fault　her　husband；　but　she　rallied　quite　well。
　'He　wouldn't　have　needed　to　go　out　at　all；　if　only　you'd　listened　to　me。　But　you　never　do。'
　'Do　what；　my　passion？'
　The　duke　yawned。　It　had　been　a　long　night。　There　had　been　a　thunderstorm　of　quite　unnecessarily　dramatic　proportions；　and　then　there　had　been　all　that　messy　business　with　the　knives。
　It　has　already　been　mentioned　that　Duke　Felmet　was　one　step　away　from　the　throne。　The　step　in　question　was　at　the　top　of　the　flight　leading　to　the　Great　Hall；　down　which　King　Verence　had　tumbled　in　the　dark　only　to　land；　against　all　the　laws　of　probability；　on　his　own　dagger。
　It　had；　however；　been　declared　by　his　own　physician　to　be　a　case　of　natural　causes。　Bentzen　had　gone　to　see　the　man　and　explained　that　falling　down　a　flight　of　steps　with　a　dagger　in　your　back　was　a　disease　caused　by　unwise　opening　of　the　mouth。
　In　fact　it　had　already　been　caught　by　several　members　of　the　king's　own　bodyguard　who　had　been　a　little　bit　hard　of　hearing。　There　had　been　a　minor　epidemic。
　The　duke　shuddered。　There　were　details　about　last　night　that　were　both　hazy　and　horrible。
　He　tried　to　reassure　himself　that　all　the　unpleasantness　was　over　now；　and　he　had　a　kingdom。　It　wasn't　much　of　one；　apparently　being　mainly　trees；　but　it　was　a　kingdom　and　it　had　a　crown。
　If　only　they　could　find　it。
　Lancre　Castle　was　built　on　an　outcrop　of　rock　by　an　architect　who　had　heard　about　Gormenghast　but　hadn't　got　the　budget。　He'd　done　his　best；　though；　with　a　tiny　confection　of　cut…price　turrets；　bargain　basements；　buttresses；　crenellations；　gargoyles；　towers；　courtyards；　keeps　and　dungeons；　in　fact；　just　about　everything　a　castle　needs　except　maybe　reasonable　foundations　and　the　kind　of　mortar　that　doesn't　wash　away　in　a　light　shower。
　The　castle　leaned　vertiginously　over　the　racing　white　water　of　the　Lancre　river；　which　boomed　darkly　a　thousand