Carpe Jugulum

Nanny took a step back. The only sensible way to hold a conversation with Igor was when you had an umbrella.

'I think I've heard of that chap,' she said. 'Didn't he stitch folk together out of dead parts?'

'No! Really?' said Agnes, shocked. 'Ow!'

'That'th right. Ith there a problem?'

'No, I call it prudent,' said Nanny, taking her foot off Agnes's toe. 'My mum was a dab hand at sewing a new sheet from bits of old ones, and people're worth more than linen. So he's your master now, is he?'

'No, my Uncle Igor thtill workth for him. Been thtruck by lightning three hundred timeth and thtill putth in a full night'th work.'

'Have a drop more of that brandy, it's very cold out here,' said Nanny. 'So who is your master, Igor?'

'Call them marthterth?' said Igor, with sudden venom and a light shower. 'Huh! Now the old Count, he wath a gentleman of the old thchool. He knew how it all workth. Proper evening dreth at all timeth, that'th the rule!'

'Evenin' dress, eh?' said Nanny.

'Meth! Thith lot only wear it in the evening, can you imagine that? The retht of the time it'th all thwanning around in fanthy waithtcoatth and lacy thkirtth! Hah! D'you know what thith lot have done?'

'Do tell...'

'They've oiled the hingeth!' Igor took a hefty pull of Nanny's special brandy. 'Thome of thothe thqueakth took bloody yearth to get right. But, oh no, now it'th "Igor, dean thothe thpiderth out of the dungeon" and "Igor, order up thome proper oil lampth, all thethe flickering torcheth are tho fifteen minuteth ago"! Tho the plathe lookth old? Being a vampire'th about continuity, ithn't it? You get lotht in the mountainth and thee a light burnin' in thome carthle, you got a right to expect proper thqueakin' doorth and thome old-world courtethy, don't you?'

'Ah, right. An' a bed in the room with a balcony outside,' said Nanny.

'My point egthactly!'

'Proper billowing curtains, too?'

'Damn right!'

'Real gutterin' candles?'

'I thpend ageth gettin' them properly dribbly. Not that anyone careth.'

'You got to get the details right, I always say,' said Nanny. 'Well, well, well... so our king invited vampires, eh?'

There was a thump as Igor slumped backwards and a tinny sound as the flask landed on the cobbles. Nanny picked it up and secreted it about her person.

'Good head for his drink,' she remarked. Not many people ever tasted Nanny Ogg's home-made brandy; it was technically impossible. Once it encountered the warmth of the human mouth it immediately turned into fumes. You drank it via your sinuses.

'What're we going to do?' said Agnes.

'Do? He invited 'em. They're guests,' said Nanny. 'I bet if I asked him Verence'd tell me to mind my own business. O' course, he wouldn't put it quite like that,' she added, since she knew the King had no suicidal tendencies. 'He'd prob'ly use the word "respect" two or three times at least. But it'd mean the same thing in the end.'

'But vampires... what's Granny going to say?'

'Listen, my girl, they'll be gone tomorrow... well, today, really. We'll just keep an eye on 'em and wave 'em goodbye when they go.'

'We don't even know what they look like!'

Nanny looked at the recumbent Igor.

'On reflection, maybe I should've asked him,' she said. She brightened up. 'Still, there's one way to find them. That's something everyone knows about vampires...'

In fact there are many things everyone knows about vampires, without really taking into account that perhaps the vampires know them by now, too.

The castle hall was a din. There was a mob around the buffet table. Nanny and Agnes helped out.

'Can o' pee, anyone?' said Nanny, shoving a tray towards a likely-looking group.

'I beg your pardon?' said someone. 'Oh... canapes...'

He took a vol-au-vent and bit into it as he turned back to the group.

'... so I said to his lordship What the hell is this?'

He turned to find himself under close scrutiny by the wrinkled old lady in a pointy hat.

'Sorry?' she said.

'This... this... this is just mashed garlic'!

'Don't like garlic flavour, eh?' said Nanny sternly.

'I love garlic, but it doesn't like me! This isn't just garlic flavoured, woman, it's all garlic!'

Nanny peered at her tray with theatrical shortsightedness.

'No, there's some... there's a bit of... you're right, perhaps we overdid it a gnat's... I'll just go and... just get some... I'll just go...'

She collided with Agnes at the entrance to the kitchen. Two trays slid to the floor, spilling garlic vol-au-vents, garlic dip, garlic stuffed with garlic and tiny cubes of garlic on a stick, stuck into a garlic.

'Either there's a lot of vampires in these parts or we're doing something wrong,' said Agnes flatly.

'I've always said you can't have too much garlic,' said Nanny.

'Everyone else disagrees, Nanny.'

'All right, then. What else... ah! All vampires wear evening dress in the evenings, even this lot.'

'Everyone here is wearing some kind of evening dress, Nanny. Except us.'

Nanny Ogg looked down. 'This is the dress I always wear in the evenin'.'

'Vampires aren't supposed to show up in a mirror, are they?' said Agnes.