Lords And Ladies

The torch flared. There were hundreds of dust-covered slabs ranged around the cavern in a spiral; at the centre of the spiral was a huge bell, suspended from a rope that disappeared into the darkness of the ceiling. Just under the hanging bell was one pile of silver coins and one pile of gold coins.

"Don't touch the money," said Nanny "'Ere, watch this, my dad told me about this, it's a good trick."

She reached out and tapped the bell very gently, causing a faint ting.

Dust cascaded off the nearest slab. What Casanunda had thought was just a carving sat up, in a creaky way. It was an armed warrior. Since he'd sat up he almost certainly was alive, but he looked as though he'd gone from life to rigor mortis without passing through death on the way.

He focused deepset eyes on Nanny Ogg.

"What bloody tyme d'you call thys, then?"

"Not time yet," said Nanny.

"What did you goe and bang the bell for? I don't know, I haven't had a wynke of sleep for two hundred years, some sodde alwayes bangs the bell. Go awaye."

The warrior lay back.

"It's some old king and his warriors," whispered Nanny, as they hurried away. "Some kind of magical sleep, I'm told. Some old wizard did it. They're supposed to wake up for some final battle when a wolf eats the sun."

"Those wizards, always smoking something," said Casanunda.

"Could be. Go right here. Always go right."

"We're walking in a circle?"

"A spiral. We're right under the Long Man now."

"No, that can't be right," said Casanunda. "We climbed down a hole under the Long Man . . . hold on . . . you mean we're in the place where we started and it's a different place?"

"You're getting the hang of this, I can see that."

They followed the spiral.

Which, at length, brought them to a door, of sorts.

The air was hotter here. Red light glowed from side passages.

Two massive stones had been set up against a rock wall, with a third stone across them. Animal skins hung across the crude entrance thus formed; wisps of steam curled around them.

"They got put up at the same time as the Dancers," said Nanny, conversationally. "Only the hole here's vertical, so they only needed three. Might as well leave your crowbar here and take your boots off if they've got nails in 'em."

"These boots were stitched by the finest shoemaker in Ankh-Morpork," said Casanunda, "and one day I shall pay him."

Nanny pulled aside the skins.

Steam billowed out.

There was darkness inside, thick and hot as treacle and smelling of a fox's locker room. As Casanunda followed Nanny Ogg he sensed unseen figures in the reeking air, and heard the silence of murmured conversations suddenly curtailed. At one point he thought he saw a bowl of red hot stones, and then a shadowy hand moved across them and upturned a ladle, hiding them in steam.

This can't be inside the Long Man, he told himself. That's an earthworks, this is a long tent of skins.

They can't both be the same thing.

He realized he was dripping with sweat.

Two torches became visible as the steam swirled, their light hardly more than a red tint to the darkness. But they were enough to show a huge sprawled figure lying by another bowl of hot stones.

It looked up. Antlers moved in the damp, clinging heat.

"Ah. Mrs. Ogg."

The voice was like chocolate.

"Y'lordship," said Nanny.

"I suppose it is too much to expect you to kneel?"

"Yes indeed, y'honor," said Nanny, grinning.

"You know, Mrs. Ogg, you have a way of showing respect to your god that would make the average atheist green with envy," said the dark figure. It yawned.

"Thank you, y'grace."

"No one even dances for me now. Is that too much to ask?"

"Just as you say, y'lordship."

"You witches don't believe in me anymore."

"Right again, your homishness."

"Ah, little Mrs. Ogg – and how, having got in here, do you possibly think you are going to get out?" said the slumped one.

"Because I have iron," said Nanny, her voice suddenly sharp.

"Of course you have not, little Mrs. Ogg. No iron can enter this realm."

"I have the iron that goes everywhere," said Nanny.

She took her hand out of her apron pocket, and held up a horseshoe.

Casanunda heard scuffles around him, as the hidden elves fought to get out of the way More steam hissed up as a brazier of hot stones was overturned.

"Take it away!"

"I'll take it away when I go," said Nanny. "Now you listen to me. She's making trouble again. You've got to put a stop to it. Fair's fair. We're not having all the Old Trouble again."

"Why should I do that?"

"You want her to be powerful, then?"

There was a snort.

"You can't ever rule again, back in the world," said Nanny. "There's too much music. There's too much iron."

"Iron rusts."

"Not the iron in the head."

The King snorted.

"Nevertheless . . . even that. . . one day . . ."