Page 13 of 13
Chapter XLI
They'd been riding for over an hour before Katy had even begun to notice the Nac Mac Feegle. She'd been too busy trying to keep Moo warm and both of them in the saddle. Katy was on the thin side and Moo weighed almost nothing so Ronrojo could hardly even have been aware of them on his back and the great horse's strong, steady gallop was as smooth a ride as she'd ever experienced. It still wasn't like sitting in a chair, though. She had Moo in front of her, gripped between her legs and with both arms holding her tightly; the child still felt desperately cold but at least she had stopped shivering. Katy really hoped that that was a good thing. She held one rein in each hand but she held them only lightly, both she and the big stallion knew who was in charge here, and she clutched his mane instead. It sort of worked.
Anyway, having so much on her mind was why she assumed it had taken her so long to notice the little blue figures along the road. Of course a column of Nac Mac Feegle was hardly like the Borogravian Infantry, but despite their notorious dislike of organization and the fact that they were probably chaotically all over the place, she knew that if they hadn't wanted her to see them; she wouldn't have seen them.
Ronrojo had stopped by streams a couple of times for rest and refreshments: he couldn't gallop all the way to Ankh-Morpork without a break after all, and he needed to eat and drink. Katy welcomed the chance to rest and stretch her back for a bit and the big horse had actually sat down to make it easy of her to dismount with Moo in her arms. Once he'd grazed for a bit and drunk some water –and she'd managed to get Moo to drink some milk- he'd sat down again so that they could get back on, then set off once more at full gallop. It was almost as if he realised the urgency of what he was doing.
At one of the stops a small blue figure appeared from the bushes beside the clearing where she was nursing Moo.
"Hullaw, hen," said the pictsie, "I'm Weary Wullie."
"Pleased to meet you," she replied, "I'm Katy."
"How's the bairn?"
"Not, great," Katy admitted, "but she's not getting any worse."
"Right, well," said Wullie, "I'll pass that oan." Then he was gone.
She wondered who he was passing it on to and how, but she didn't wonder for long as she had other things to think about.
When night fell she assumed she would no longer be able to notice her guards but every now and then a match would be struck down on the road or there'd be some sparks in a tree, just to let her know they were there. She found it rather reassuring and wondered if the Nac Mac Feegle would reach Ankh-Morpork before they did, along with the news of their coming; she hoped so. But then she didn't realise when, a few hours later, they passed Magnus Og on the road and were, effectively, on their own.
Apart, that is, from the men on black horses who had begun shadowing them some time before.
Lucy had grabbed one of the big racers from the stables, jumped on his back, without a saddle and spurred him into a gallop. Since her long ago youth she had been an expert horsewoman and could effortlessly jump side-saddle –which wasn't easy- but right now she wasn't riding side saddle, nor even relying on her equestrian skills. Horses weren't generally stupid, bonkers more often than not, but seldom stupid. This one actually was stupid, but not so suicidally so that he didn't realise that if he didn't run his heart out then Lucy would rip his head off. By dusk the horse was virtually out on his feet and Lucy took to the air, as soon as it was dark enough, without as much as a "goodbye". She hadn't really liked him.
From the sky she was relieved to see that the Nac Mac Feegle were heading back to Ankh-Morpork –they weren't as irate as they had been on the way there but even asleep, with a belly full of coo and a skinfu' of whusky, a pictsie was still pretty miffed- that was good, because it made them easy to follow and, if what she now thought to be was actually true, then they were going to need all the help they could get. But could it really be true?
The Mørke had been the belovèd of vampire parents' bedtime stories when she was little. It took a lot to frighten a vampire child but The Mørke had given her nightmares. This had obviously made her a bit of a "squishy" to her classmates at boarding-school, even though most of them hadn't even been vampires. He was real enough, of course, they'd all learned that in history class: the God of Sunlight, the rise of The Darkness, the War in Heaven, the Betrayal of Eris, the spear of mistletoe…but it was ancient history, millennia before even her family line had begun to put down its roots and, anyway, The Mørke had been destroyed in the Guderneskrig, everyone knew that. Even vampire parents weren't cruel enough to let their children believe that He still existed. Yes, her father had told her that if she didn't get to her coffin immediately before dawn then "The Mørke will come and get you", but they'd just laughed at it; albeit that she'd done so rather nervously. This thing out of childish nightmares couldn't possibly exist, could it? Even as she tried to dismiss the thought, she knew that it did, and that ultimately it was responsible for everything bad that had been happening. But those thoughts were for another day; right now they had to find Moo, make sure she was safe and get her to hospital as quickly as possible. Oh, and pick-up her clothes on the way.
Even their sharp sight couldn't really tell the road from the land either side of it, not in the dark: it was just a well used dry, dusty path through a dry, dusty land. It wouldn't have been possible to follow it from the air if the Nac Mac Feegle hadn't been following it on the ground. The "column" was no longer in full rage but to sensitive eyes it still gave off an angry glow, and the occasional spark. Of course they would have easily been able to see a horse and rider on the road –their night vision was excellent, after all- but so far they'd seen nothing and that was starting to worry them, because they could see up ahead where the pictsie glow stopped –meaning the end of the "column"- and they still couldn't see any dust plume, as would have been thrown up by a rider.
Originally they'd hoped to be able to retrieve her clothes and then wait for the girls' arrival on the road; they'd now abandoned that plan as being unrealistic –it must have been a very fast horse- and just hoped they'd catch up with them before daybreak. Summer nights were dreadfully short.
They'd left the end of the column miles behind and it couldn't have been much more than half-an-hour before dawn when they finally spotted their dust, thankfully. But they'd also spotted the dust of the horsemen riding either side of them. Oh, well, she used to like a bit of a workout last thing at night.
Katy had been happy when things had begun to grow light; she had far too much imagination to make riding in the dark anything less than a frightening experience at the best of times and as things were at the moment, it was really scary. It wasn't fully light when Katy saw what was waiting for her in the murk up ahead; real horsemen were far more terrifying than anything her fancy could create. Where were the Nac Mac Feegle!?
At first she'd thought of turning the horse around, but a quick glance over her shoulder told her that there were horsemen behind her too and, she now noticed, on either side of her as well, perhaps a dozen in all. They were completely surrounded, completely helpless and didn't have any options.
She recognised the big, blond oaf sitting in the middle of the three horsemen in the road when Ronrojo came to a halt a few yards before them. Lord Bothemore's Black Guards were all rather nasty men, but even among them Captain Horog stood out for his unpleasantness.
"Good morning, Miss Hoppkins," he said, smirking, "and where are you off to?"
"Back to the city, sir," she said. The sir left an unpleasant taste in her mouth, but she was in no position to be making her true feelings about this human waste clear.
"Are you, indeed?" he smirked.
The other guards had closed in, encircling them. She knew that Ronrojo would have charged through them at the least urging from her –she would have done it too, had she been alone- but she couldn't risk Moo falling off.
"Yes, sir," she said, trying to be as sweet as possible, "I have a sick child that I need to get to hospital." She knew this wouldn't move him, but anything was worth a try at this point, after all.
"Yes, I remember a child at the hall," said Horog, stroking his beard, "she was in the dungeons as I remember. As were you, I believe," he added, with a chuckle. They were done for.
"She's just a little girl," Katy pleaded, starting to cry, though she knew tears would have no affect either.
"Hand her over," said Horog, "I'll take her. Then my boys will take you. Though in a rather different way, I think." His laugh was crude and vulgar. The other horsemen laughed along in a coarse, lascivious way and Katy knew what she'd be in for.
"No," said Katy, with every fibre of temerity in her being, "I sha'n't!"
She knew from school that this was how Eris had defied The Darkness when He had commanded her to destroy everyone's children. Eris had been brave, but also powerful. Katy had only her courage.
"Don't be ridiculous, girl," Horog laughed, "you're alone and helpless. Give her to me!"
"Oh, I wouldn't say she's alone," said a sweet little voice from behind Katy, "nor helpless, for that matter."
Her heart leapt at the sound of the lovely, sing-song, Quirmian accent. Admittedly, she'd have preferred to have heard a wee, blue man saying "hooch" rather than a skinny, naked girl sounding lovely; on the other hand, she had seen the door trick.
Horog was more than a little surprised to see the figure appear from behind the big horse, but he assumed she must have been hiding under the other girl's cloak. There wasn't much to her, he had to admit, but she was certainly very pretty. Though she was little more than a child he was having trouble deciding whether to throw her to his men or keep her for himself. He decided on the latter; they'd only break her, after all.
"On your knees, girl!" he commanded.
"Make me!" said the tiny nude.
Captain Horog opened his mouth wide to roar, but Lucy got to his throat before the laugh did.
Katy had never seen anything remotely like it. It was over in little more than a minute or two and all the Black Guards were lying on the ground groaning in pain, except for those that were writhing in agony and the ones that were unconscious. Dead? She didn't want to think about that. It had been almost beautiful, more like a dance than a fight, with Lucy as the prima ballerina and the thugs as circus clowns falling over themselves as they swiped, uselessly at the whirring blur that was beating them senseless. At one point she hadn't been able to control herself:
"Take that you blaggards!" she'd cheered.
When she'd finished Lucy swiped one of the Black Guards' cloaks to wrap round herself, grabbed one of their horses and rode up beside Katy.
"How's Moo?" she asked.
Katy wanted to pour gratitude over the little vampire for saving both their lives, weep and throw herself into her arms; but she supposed that that could wait.
"I don't know," she admitted, "she seemed better for a while, but now she's started shivering again."
"Would you like me to take her for a while," Lucy offered, "you must be very tired and I can generate a lot of heat."
Two days before, and two rescues ago, the thought of handing a sick child over to a vampire would have horrified her almost beyond her ability to describe; now giving Moo over to Lucy seemed like the most natural of things. Of course, as had just been demonstrated, Lucy really didn't have to ask; she could have taken Moo with less effort than it took Katy to blink, but that also made her the best protector that Katy could imagine. She unwrapped the child from her cloak and Lucy wrapped her in her own.
"Now, let's ride," she said and they galloped off.
Under her cloak Lucy was indeed generating a lot of heat but it was taking it out of her: it had been days since she'd eaten, and then it had been VEGETABLES! The recent fighting had certainly got her blood coursing again and that was what was warming Moo –she'd now stopped shivering- but that need feeding. There wasn't much to Lucy, in fact there "wisnae a pick oan her" according to Magnus Og. Still, size wasn't everything, as the Nac Mac Feegle themselves demonstrated better than anything, however that amount of energy needed matter to generate it, specifically coo beastie. What she really wanted was a raw steak, but right then she'd have settled for a black pudding. Moo stirred in her arms and murmured something. Lucy couldn't make out what she was saying but it did manage to bring her thoughts back to the little girl in her charge. Compared to most people Lucy would be considered stick-thin, but even she was almost plump compared to Moo. There was little more to her than bone and stringy sinew –she wouldn't have made a meal for any animal worth its teeth- yet there was power in her. How much power Lucy couldn't be sure, because of her dormant state, but it was a lot, though not enough to fight The Mørke, she was sure of that. And yet Captain Mudd, Sergeant von Humpeding and the two witches back in Ankh-Morpork clearly thought the child was somehow capable of taking on the approaching menace. Of course they didn't know the nature of the menace that was approaching. For the moment, though, all that mattered was getting the child to hospital.
They'd been riding through the edges of Effing Forest for a couple of hours and so hadn't been able to see very much of anything, but now they were clear of it and, as the breasted a long hill they caught their first sight of Anhk-Morpork, and it made them both draw up their mounts and draw in their breath. In the distance the great city spread its vast way down towards the Circle Sea, but above it towered what looked like a single, gigantic, dark, boiling thundercloud. The cloud didn't extend out to sea, or even over the surrounding countryside, in fact it didn't seem to extend much beyond the city walls.
"Have you ever seen anything like that before?!" Katy asked, assuming, quite correctly, that Lucy's experience of strange phenomena was far larger than hers.
"No," said Lucy, quietly, "I haven't." And she knew why.
"Looks ominous, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Lucy agreed, "it is certainly an omen."
"Oh, well," said Katy, uncertainly, "I suppose we'd better get a move on."
"Yes," said Lucy, "no time to waste."
Katy thought her voice sounded almost as ominous as the stormcloud looked. Lucy now kicked her horse on and Ronrojo followed without being urged.
To Katy's mind, as they drew closer to the city, it seemed to become hotter and the atmosphere felt thicker; also the nearer they got the more nervous the horses became. Lucy's mount was only kept going by the force of Lucy's will, but even Ronrojo –normally a model of calm- was getting rather jumpy. By the time they reached the city walls everything felt unpleasantly sticky and rather oppressive, but that was as nothing compared to how it felt when they passed through Onion Gate.
They'd parted company with their horses at the gate as no one was allowed to ride a horse within the city walls.1 There was stabling for the horses to be had if they'd wanted it but instead they'd just taken their saddles off and let them go. Lucy's horse had immediately bolted for the hills as if hell itself were after her, but Ronrojo had seemed reluctant to leave Katy. In the end Lucy had explained to him that it was best that he left before someone tried to make a stew out of him and he'd found this more than convincing. Katy was pleased that he was free at last.
Once inside, she found it hard to believe how much the city had changed in just the few days that she'd been away. The stifling heat was bad enough; the near suffocating humidity was worse and the swarms of flies were worse still, but the worst thing of all was the quivering, almost palpable tension.
As they were making their way up Losing Street, with Lucy carrying Moo under her cloak, Katy felt she had to say something:
"It wasn't like this when I left."
"No, it's worse than when I did too, and that was only a couple of days ago," Lucy agreed.
"How much longer can people put up with this?"
I doubt they'll have to put up with it for very much longer at all, thought Lucy, and then they'll probably want it back. She'd tried to signal ahead to both Captain Mudd and Sergeant von Humpeding but had failed - they weren't properly attuned, what with their not being proper vampires and all- however she had managed to contact Vlad, and he'd passed it on. An ambulance cart had been dispatched and it met them just as they reached The Hippo. Moo had been loaded into the back by Dr. Igor and Nurse Shame and it had then sped off, leaving Lucy and Katy to make their way to the hospital on foot.
Katy was so nervous that she thought her hair might jump out. Everything seemed so tense and everyone appeared to be on the verge of breaking off the leash, while the air itself seemed to tremble with the threat of violence. If Lucy hadn't taken her hand and calmed her down she thought she would have started to scream.
She wanted to make sure that Moo was alright, of course, but she was also really concerned about her mum and her sisters…and Sacharissa, everything seemed so dangerous, but what could she do to protect them. Fortunately, Lucy had assured her that, as soon as she'd got some food and some clothes, that she would accompany her round to her mum's house to make sure they were all safe. This had taken such a weight off her heart that by the time they reached Morpork Mercy she was starting to feel quite relaxed, and then there was Sacharissa waiting for her on the steps. And Smite waiting for Lucy. The two girls threw themselves into each other's arms and kissed, passionately. They weren't going to pretend they weren't in love, ever again. Smite clearly wanted to do something similar with Lucy put was too shy and also still uncertain how she felt about him. Eventually she opened her arms and he hugged her so tightly that it almost tickled. Times were changing all around it seemed.
1 Apart from the king, but as he didn't exist it didn't really matter.