Chapter 4:
can watch but not take part
where i end and where you start
where you, you left me alone
you left me alone.
"Where you end and I begin" Radiohead
Death was standing in his cornfields staring at the swaying stalks, his eye sockets glowing faintly. He touched one side of his robe, where his heart might have been, if he had one, his skeletal fingers resting above the faint hissing sound of his wife's hourglass.
ELIZABETH. MY WIFE. MINE. The concept was still foreign to him. He reached in his robe and brought the glass out. Technically he didn't have to look at it, but it still felt reassuring to do so.
After a moment he replaced it and headed towards his house through the endless stocks of corn.
In his office, the Death of Rats was sitting atop his desk. He seemed to be sniffing his teacup.
IT IS CAMOMILE. Death said. YOU MAY HAVE IT IF YOU LIKE.
SQUEAK. The Death of Rats replied.
I NEED YOU TO DO ME A FAVOR. He said. I HAVE SOME THINGS I MUST DO. WOULD YOU CHECK AND SEE IF ELIZABETH IS DOING ALL RIGHT?
SQUEAK.
THANK YOU. Death said as he started to leave. He paused briefly. DO YOU THINK SHE WILL BE ANGRY? He asked, a little nervously. The Death of Rats shrugged. Death frowned…in a metaphorical sense, and then left the room.
XXX
It didn't take Elizabeth long to pull the weeds…because there weren't any. She sighed and sat down on a tree stump nearby and studied the forest, which stretched away from the cottage for miles. It was almost suffocating compared to her miles of empty acres.
Elizabeth felt the first pang of homesickness since she'd come the day before. Of course part of this was probably due to the weird gray phantoms she had seen the during the course of the previous night…it didn't make it very easy to feel glad about being at this place with its tall tall trees and fierce geography.
She wondered briefly what they were, and figured that she'd probably find out sooner or later, whether she wanted to or not.
SQUEAK. Elizabeth jumped slightly and looked down at the foot of the stump. A tiny robed figure was peering up at her. After a moment it waved a bony paw. Elizabeth's mouth opened slightly to form the words 'you?'
"He asked how you were." She turned to find the source of the other voice, but could only see a raven, which was perched a few feet away and looking at her.
SQUEAK. SQUEAK. The Death of Rats said as it crawled up her leg and came to rest on her knee.
"Says Death sent him to make sure you were getting along all right." She looked again at the raven, who was eyeing her intelligently.
"This just keeps getting better." She said below her breath in cynical tones.
"In my opinion, it can always get worse, miss." The raven said.
"And I imagine it will." Elizabeth looked down at the Death of Rats.
SQUEAK.
"Hey says; he's sorry to find you in such a crummy mood."
"He said all of that, did he?" Elizabeth asked as she eyed the raven wearily.
"More or less."
"Who are you?" She'd met the Death of Rats on a couple separate occasions. The raven, she had never seen before. Although, she had to admit, it was rather appropriate in the circumstances.
"Names Quoth. I interpret for him. And…occasionally take him places." He added the last almost grudgingly.
"So your somewhat like Binky then?" Elizabeth asked dully.
"No…because I'm not a horse. Ravens are intelligent, see?"
"Binky seems pretty intelligent."
"Yeah…for a horse maybe." He muttered in return.
SQUEAK!
"Yes yes…all right…I was only saying, they're not exactly known for their intelligence now are they...now your ravens..."
SQUEAK. The Death of Rats interrupted as he turned towards Elizabeth.
"Well obviously she's fine. She's sitting upright…she's talking…she aint dead, job well done."
"Er…yes…" Elizabeth started as she averted her slightly annoyed gaze from Quoth and back onto the Death of Rats.
"So, why did he send you? Where is he?"
SQUEAK SQUEAK.
"Very busy." Quoth translated.
"Oh." Elizabeth said. She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, and once again, just a bit angry. The Death of Rats eyed her briefly before walking a few steps and patting her on her hand.
"Think he's trying to reassure you."
"Yes, thank you, I figured that one out on my own." Elizabeth replied a little sardonically. "Do you know anything about this whole thing?"
SQUEAK.
"Says it's not his business to mention it." Quoth said, although now he sounded just slightly irritated himself. "But keep your eyes open."
The Death of Rat's nodded and put his bony paws by his eye sockets.
"Keep them open for what?"
"Basically anything out of the ordinary." The raven said.
"But I'm in a strange country with a witch and I'm talking to a skeletal rat and a bird…how do I know what's out of the ordinary?"
SQUEAK.
"He said, 'you'll see.'"
XXX
Granny Weatherwax opened the door and peered out at Elizabeth, who was sitting on an old tree stump by her herb garden and who appeared to be talking to someone who wasn't there. She walked quietly in the girl's direction, and no one could walk quietly quite like Granny Weatherwax. Nevertheless, the girl looked up suddenly, and, in that instant, a large black raven, which had been settled near her, flew off in a flutter of fine black wings and landed on the branch of a tree nearby.
"Witches business is over." Granny Weatherwax said, pretending like she hadn't been trying to eavesdrop on the girl. "You can come in now if you like." She added. Elizabeth had moved her arm so her hand was concealed behind the tree stump. Unseen by Granny Weatherwax, the Death of Rats jumped down from her fingers and hid.
"Oh?" Elizabeth said as she stood. She headed towards the woman cautiously, moving past her into the house. Granny Weatherwax stayed behind for a moment and eyed the raven on the branch suspiciously. After a moment it squirmed under her gaze.
"Ahem. Caw. Caw." It said in an unconvincing manner. Esme narrowed her eyes and headed inside.
XXX
"Watcher Liz." Nanny Ogg said happily as Elizabeth entered the room. "I'm Gytha Ogg, everyone calls me nanny, and this here's Agnes Nitt."
"Hello." Agnes said as she sized Elizabeth up.
"Hi." Elizabeth replied as Esme entered the room behind her.
"Sit down, Mrs. Door. Let's have a chat shall we?" Esme said. Elizabeth moved forward and sat down hesitantly as the woman took a seat nearby.
"We been talking." Granny Weatherwax started. "Makin arrangements, so to speak."
"Oh…?" It was all she could think of to say.
"That's right, and we, well, that is to say, Esme here wants us to take you for at least part of the time you're here in Lancre." Nanny Ogg said. Elizabeth averted her gaze from Mistress Weatherwax to Nanny Ogg.
She had a warm and inviting smile, underneath a face that seemed grandmotherly and trustworthy and behind eyes that sparkled with almost unexpected intelligence. Unfortunately, Elizabeth's severely limited experience with people made it difficult to trust anyone very much. She imagined she'd have to try and shake off that suspicion eventually, but for now she let it settle at the back of her mind.
"That all right with you is it?" Course, it don't matter is you say yes or no, cause that's how it is." Granny said.
"It's all right." Elizabeth replied after a moment.
"Good. Now then, why don't we have some more tea. Agnes?"
"Yes, Granny." Agnes said and stood. Elizabeth could see the younger girl looking at her out of the corner of her eyes.
"So, Elizabeth, you have any witches where you come from?" Nanny asked as she tipped some indefinable liquid into her empty teacup.
"No." Elizabeth answered. "A wizard will occasionally come to the town nearest to my house for festivals."
"Hah. Wizards. Nothing but meddling old fools." Granny said with a scowl.
"You live near Ankh Morpork?" Nanny asked, still smiling. She had a sort of good natured knowing smile, with perhaps a hint of humor that tended to show through people who always had some sort of dirty joke to share.
"It isn't far…" Elizabeth answered.
"Ever been there?"
"A couple of times."
"With your husband I imagine?" Elizabeth paused, meeting Nanny's gaze for a moment. The woman was wearing an inquiring look.
"Once…actually…we were married in Ankh Morpork." She said carefully.
"Inna bit of a hurry then, eh?" Nanny Ogg winked. There are very few things that are more suggestive then a wink from Nanny Ogg. Elizabeth frowned.
"Tea." Agnes interrupted as she re-entered the room. She was holding the pot carefully in front of her enormous torso.
"I should think you could use a bit of tea with your brandy, Gytha." Esme said darkly.
"Nope, no room." Nanny said. "So how long you been married, Liz?" Gytha asked as Agnes poured Granny's cup of tea.
"Er, a month." Elizabeth said. "You don't have to…I mean, I can." She said to Agnes as the girl began to pour Elizabeth a cup.
"Agnes can do it." Granny said pointedly.
"It's all right." Agnes said, although she looked a bit annoyed.
"a month, eh?" Nanny continued. "Best time of the marriage, the first few months. I don't think me and my first husband got a single full nights sleep until month four." She said happily.
"Course I was younger back then. So what about you? You got yourself a willing man?"
"Gytha." Granny said, while giving Nanny a disapproving look.
Elizabeth's expression went from being curiously blank, to horrified before it dissolved into embarrassment.
"All mine were. Course sometimes I had to encourage them a bit."
"With your methods of encouragement, I can't see how they had much of a choice. That's enough Gytha, no one's interested, I'm sure." Granny said, with her lips pursed.
"Oh Esme, there's nothing shameful about being intimate."
"You could make anything shameful Gytha Ogg."
"That's true." Nanny said with a smile.
XXX
Jerimoth was riding on the road to Lancre, now only miles away and taking his time. He was thinking. Behind him, Mr. Sunshine had managed to catch up after being dragged for a couple of miles before he finally figured out how to sit on the horse.
It's traditional to think that zombies are mindless. The stereotype developed over years and years from those people who think that all vampires are charming, that witches dance in the nude and commune with demons and that all zombies are stupid flesh eating monsters. Although, this occasionally can be the case, in any of these examples, if these people ever actually went out and talked to these minorities, they might find it isn't precisely what they thought, although...they'd be doing so at the risk of their own lives considering that even the most unfair stereotypes occasionally have some truth.
Jerimoth wasn't mindless, but he was emotionless, which can sometimes seem like the same thing to people who think emotion is important. He actually considered his dispassionate mind as an advantage in thought. Without the walls of emotion and desire and all of the other complicated things that made up the human mind, he could think clearly.
The problem is, that though the intelligence is there, sometimes it helps to also have the walls to dam up the more dangerous thoughts of the human mind. Thoughts were allowed to crackle in Jerimoths head like flames, hidden behind an impassive mask.
Another thing about Jerimoth was that he was not a brutish killer. He did people favors…and although most of them did involve killing, he had never actually set out to perform a murder on any particular desire of his own. When it came to it, Jerimoth didn't have the sort of passion that most mass murderers had. He didn't take pleasure in killing, and he didn't do it for money or for riches, or for fame or even for something as simple as seeing if he could.
It was possible that Jerimoth himself did not know why he did the things he did, but if he had to guess, he'd say it had something to do with desire. Not his own, but the desire of others. He found in it interesting to see what people would to do get the things they felt they needed. It was amazing what they would give up for just one moment of satisfaction.
He'd already decided that these creatures, whatever they were could probably not give him the thing he had come to expect from clients. They seemed as impassive as he. They did not know what it was to burn for something, or to sit up at night with the thoughts running through their heads as their desires drove them mad. Only people knew. People did terrible things to get what they yearned for. He knew, because many of his clients had done them in front of him.
As Jerimoth rode down the dust path on the crater's horse he smiled to himself, faintly, like someone who was thinking about something unpleasant when they know full well they will be on the observing end.
He recalled the woman two years before, who had come to him half mad. She had been licking her lips and her eyes had darted to and fro, and she had spoken of a nameless man who had spent on night with her and then had fled the next morning. There had been more to the story...apparently this one event had ruined her life in many different ways, but Jerimoth couldn't have cared much less about these details. He could have told her a thing or two about having ones life ruined. Dying, for example, put a huge damper on ones plans. In any case, in the time since her bitter lover had left she had become pregnant and had, at the time had her two-month-old child with her, who was suffering from a fever from the trip up the mountain.
She'd asked him to hunt the shameless man down and show him the errors of his ways in a very specific way that would leave him unable to 'function' properly from then on. The conversation had taken a familiar path after that. He asked her what she would give him in return. She had removed her child from the blankets and in front of him, began to cut it into pieces. Jerimoth watched her do this impassively, as he thought about desire.
Perhaps this time he could indulge in a few of his own wishes. He wasn't sure if it was even possibly for him to want anymore…but it was worth a try. And this job was, interesting.
Jerimoth's smile broadened slightly, never reaching his eyes and he allowed his horse to speed up a little.
XXX
MJ Mod: Hehe, once again, I love reading your reviews because of all of the speculation. You know, you are right on a few points though…I'm not going to tell you what they are, but you are right about them. I'm glad you are enjoying the story so far : )
Big Cat: Thank you :) I'm always worried about getting discworld character's personalities right. At Least Granny Weatherwax and Nanny are pretty extreme. I'm having some troubles with Agnes. Glad you liked the last chapter.
Novocaine: Sigh, I miss it so much. Hopefully it will get repaired quickly so I can stop writing my chapters on notebook paper at work. Thank you : )
The Ness Ness: Thank you, thank you. I'm glad that my character is not a mary sue. Always nice to hear.
Loverdoll: Aww thank you Your sweet.