Strandpiel 3: Promises and Prophecies.
How dual nationality works out for one proud user.
Currently embuggered by loads of ideas and very little time to commit to record because of the demands of a new job. LOTS of ideas for continuing old stories ("Many worlds", et c) and barely enough time to sketch them out for retrieval later. Building skeletons, basically.
A series of episodes and glimpses into the later life of a new character. Readers do appear to want to find out more about her. I'll try to put them into some sort of order. As time allows.
Here it comes. Chapter three. Look for these at least weekly.
The Temple Congregation Hall, Small Gods, Ankh-Morpork.
The post-Naming celebration was going just fine. Johanna had pointed out to her aunt and uncle that a lot of people would want to attend the post-ceremony party. Lots more than could be accommodated at a reception room in the embassy, and certainly many more than her home in Spa Lane could take. They had accepted this, and in any case High Priest Hughnon Ridcully had graciously made an assembly room at the Temple of Small Gods available to them. Caterers had been at work all morning, setting up the usual supporting infrastructure and even a makeshift bar. Johanna winced at the cost.(1) But some things are inescapable, after a rite of passage like Naming your first-born. She got on with the necessary business of being congratulated by the displaced congregation of the Howondalandian Kirk who had been offered generous help with having somewhere to worship while their own church, sadly damaged in a fire a day or two before, was closed for rebuilding. Practically every White Howondalandian in the City was here. Quite a few hundred people now. Together with invited friends. The Howondalandians were a good cross-selection of society at Home. Some were pointedly avoiding the minister who had presided over the Naming and were keeping a distance. There hadn't been too much open dissent. It wasn't lost on the people present that Ambassador van der Graaf had accepted a black priest as if it were one of those things, and that Barbarossa Smith-Rhodes had extended a hand of friendship to him. Besides, the hard-liners were outnumbered many times over. Quite a few people were discussing or mulling over the sermon, concerning who exactly was entitled to be counted a child of Howondaland. Delivered to a White Howondalandian congregation by a Black Howondalandian priest. That was unprecedented. People had even actually listened, if only in disbelieving shock. Johanna reflected that this had gone into people's heads like a sort of time-bomb on a long fuse. Something they'd remember a long time later, when the fuse finally detonated. Others had been socially courteous, as it was expected that you were respectful to the priest. Even if the priest was black. Others were openly friendly. And the more thoughtful present had noted the presence of quite a few Assassins, including the priest's younger sister – a woman who, while black of skin, most very definitely was not there as a servant. It would not pay to argue.
Johanna smiled. Canon Clement, a dual-qualified Priest and Assassin, had actually used his sermon as a weapon. Impeccably and with style. Words used to inhume belief in apartheid, she speculated. The idea her Volk had, that only white people counted. Well, there'll be a few people doubting a bit more after today…
Johanna put all thought of bombs out of her head(2) and went back to discussing babies and children with other mothers. Bekki wasn't the only Howondalandian child in town. Others had come here with their parents, and others had actually been born here. She spent a while talking with some of the resident vrous concerning the necessary business of bringing your children up to speak Morporkian outside the home, and Vondalaans within it. It was useful information from more experienced mothers, and she stored a few points for attention later.
It had been a good day. OK, so a band had turned up, largely formed of accordion players, and had started performing some of the old standards like Wie Se Kind Is Jy, Is Lekker Ou Jan and Outa In Die Langpad. But you can't get it all right, Johanna had conceded to her sister Mariella. (3)
Dancing had been perpetrated.(4) Fortunately, the inner circle of family and friends had soon been able to retire to 18 Spa Lane for the smaller, more intimate, family-and-friends gathering. The accordion band were not invited, for instance.
Other things needed to be said and done here, in a more private place outside that provided by a church and only unofficially under the eye of anyone from the Embassy. Uncle Pieter had to be present – he was Family – but here, he wasn't the Ambassador. Diplomats needed time for Family too. And now closest family and friends had gathered in her big room at home, around the guest of honour, who was placidly asleep in her cot. A sort of ceremony was happening, older than any church, outside the scope of any laws, somehow holier than mere religion and more binding than any lawcourt.
Drinks were being poured in the crowded room. People ignored the insistent smell of Goblin. It was accepted on a day like this that the house-goblins, who had fought for Johanna on the Night, had a right to be present. The household's Goblin community, who serviced the clacks, did odd jobs, and who had fought with deadly effect for their employer when she needed them, were ranged around the walls with solemn expectant quiet. Normally they lived their own lives in the sub-cellars when not working. And her full complement of domestic servants were here too. Claude the butler was looking after them. And people were pouring them drinks, rather than the other way about. It was a celebration time. A daughter had been born to the household and it was her naming day. Of course the servants should celebrate with their employer. It was understood.
Johanna's mother, who was standing by the cradle in deep thought, smiled slightly. She remarked that tomorrow, we start interviewing for a nanny. You know, somebody to share the everyday things and help out, if Johanna's so intent on returning to work as soon as she can. Some interesting young women have expressed an interest. She, Johanna's mother, would quite like to see her grand-daughter gets a good one.
There was general agreement. Johanna replied that she had every interest in getting the best possible nanny, as you know, mother, and at least I'll be interviewing alongside yourself and Aunt Friejda. She accepted the "I hope you're not going to be difficult about this, Johanna" faces that her mother and aunt directed to her.
Johanna shook her head slightly and addressed the room.
"Thank you all for being here. I do appreciate this. You are my closest family and friends and I have to say – and appreciate this, I may not say it more than once – I'm fond of you all, and some of you I'd go so far as to say I actually love. Even some of you here who are my students at the Guild School."
She nodded towards a group of Assassins' Guild pupils who stood out in their uniforms.
Johanna felt the static crackle of new carpet under her feet. The smell of fresh paint and recent building still lingered in the air, a smell as persistent as that of goblins. There was the wood-and-Quirmian-polish smell of new furniture. If she moved her feet, there was also the creak of new floorboards that were yet to bed in properly. On the Night, Ponder Stibbons had turned into an old-time Wizard, a wizard incensed at the invasion of his high tower by murderous thugs, and had thrown out some potent and indiscriminately applied spells in defence of those he loved. Ponder was still embarrassed about it, although Johanna was quietly sure he'd enjoyed himself, despite the fact he'd blown out a doorway, brought down a ceiling, ripped a hole through both the carpet and the floorboards underneath, and blown a hole in the wall where a perfectly inoffensive window had once been. And, incidentally, reduced several attackers to the traditional smoking pair of boots, ash, and miscellaneous body parts. Mustrum Ridcully had been delighted with him and her father, who had arrived late to the fight but made a big difference, had really taken to his Wizard son-in-law.
The attackers had discovered they were also up against professional Assassins, student Assassins who had learnt their lessons well, angry goblins, a battle-butler sworn to defend his employer and her family with his life, and a fighting soldier who was now in his third pitched battle for his life. And as if that wasn't enough, Barbarossa Smith-Rhodes had turned up. Angry. She smiled slightly. The attackers really hadn't stood a chance. But some serious rebuilding needed to happen afterwards. Some of it was still going on.
"Many of you here fought for me and for my family on the night of Bekki's birth. I thank you all, with all my heart. It is only right you should be here at her Naming. We should, I think, close that chapter of our lives today and open a new one, a better one."
Johanna let her eyes pass to the group of magic-users who were part of the gathering. Again, she wondered exactly what they'd say when their moments came. But you had to have Witches at a Naming. One had been there for the religious part of the ceremony and done what was mandated by the liturgy. Irena had dutifully vowed to seek to protect the child from Evil and to renounce Astfgl(5) and all his works.
And, one by one, the invited guests stepped forward to greet the child and speak a few words over the cradle. Some of them even got to hold her in their arms for a while. Everybody else in the room listened solemnly. Even Ponder's surviving aunt, one of the two who'd brought him up in the absence of parents. Impetua Stibbons was elderly now, and frankly a little bit Bursar. In a quiet inobtrusive way, Ponder saw she was cared for and had round-the-clock nursing care so she was never left alone. It was another big expense on the household budget, but Johanna ensured the costs were paid. She and Ponder had also dropped in on the nurses every so often, just so they knew the care they were putting in was appreciated and not only the nephew, but his Assassin wife, were taking an interest. (6)
Aunt Impetua was sitting smiling to herself in a vacant sort of way, with one of her nurses in attendance.
Johanna and Ponder stood by the cradle as, one by one, the invited guests each spoke a few words concerning their future relationship with the new child. These included Op Die Veldt Deze Nackt De Leeu Geshickt, head of the resident Goblin clan, who bestowed the first Goblin name on the child, stressing that a longer name would arrive later when she had done something to merit it. Johanna was thoughtful that the name the goblins had chosen to confer on Bekki was Red Life. To the Goblin mind, if the child's mother once had the title of Red Death bestowed upon her, it was right her daughter should balance things by displaying the opposite quality. Johanna reflected that both the Zulus and the Matabeles had named her The Red Death, one of two reasons being that she very definitely had red hair.
Red Life? Johanna wondered. This is like a wish from a witch… you don't know what direction it's going to go in till it happens… and then she realised there were four Witches in the room and shuddered slightly. They were yet to speak… then she watched peoples' reactions with amusement as her friend Ruth N'kweze stepped forward, with the proud prowling step of a Zulu warrior and a Princess of her people. Aunt Friejda looked as if she were going to faint… Johanna made a point of joining in as Ruth sang a Zulu warrior chant over the cradle, returning the responses. She was aware that her father, her cousin Julian, Canon Clement, and several others, were picking up the idea and returning the chant, as good manners dictated. Ruth had the right: she too had fought here on the Night. With the assegai and shield that normally hung over the fireplace, weapons she was now ritually offering in defence and friendship to Bekki.
"Well said, princess! Dankie. Come on, Mustrum." she heard her father say, encouragingly. Mustrum Ridcully stepped forward with an uncharacteristic diffidence.
"Not used to this sort of thing." he almost mumbled. "Years ago, when m'brother's kids were newly hatched…"
"Hold her like this, Mustrum." Agnetha Smith-Rhodes said, helping Bekki settle into his arms. "Be sure to support her head. Good, you have her securely."
"You know, I'm not sure what to say here." he began. "I note you have the traditional three witches here." He acknowledged Eunice Proust, Olga Romanoff and Irena Politek. "Plus one. A spare, so to speak. Back-up." He nodded to the Crown Princess Esmeralda Margaret Note Spelling of the Kingdom of Lancre. Nottie grinned back.
"I'm the spare, yes. None taken." she agreed, cheerfully.
Ridcully looked down at the child in his arms. Bekki was awake now. She was, her mother noted, now gripping a handy beard in one little fist. Johana found it intriguing as to how tightly even a child a month or so old could grip things, when she wanted to. And how Ridcully stoically accepted this.
"She's a child of the University family too. Through her father. And while Wizards have always been able to marry, they tended, at least till recently, not to do it till later in life. Because they had to retire from the active profession, and generally got wed to women who were also past all that sort of thing. So we don't see too many children, sorry to say. Such Lore as we have needs to be revised. Young Rebecka here is the first of the new line. As Arch-Chancellor, I think it's high time we wrote some new Lore! I say this little girl is a University child. And I'm sayin' if and when she needs it, she can call on us and ask a favour. Not sure what sort of favours she's ever likely to ask, but if I can grant it for her, I will. In fact. Got somethin' for her here. Agnetha, m'dear, could you? Thanking you kindly. And if you could, er, persuade her to let go of m'beard for a moment?"
Bekki's grandmother deftly took over the child and somehow disentangled Ridcully's beard from the tiny fist that was tugging at it. Ridcully, visibly relieved, searched in his pockets. Wizards tend to have lots of pockets. It took some time.
"Had this made up, special." He took out a jewellery box and opened it. Johanna and Ponder leaned forward to look. Ridcully took out a silver chain. Something regularly shaped dangled from the end. The pendant was octagonal. It had the University octogram on one side, similar to the membership badge conferred on new Wizards at their graduation. Ridcully flipped it over. The other side was the cloak-and-dagger badge of the Guild of Assassins.
"I remembered Miss Sanderson-Reeves making a very valid point concernin' the child bein' part of the Assassin family by right of birth." Ridcully said. He nodded at Joan Sanderson-Reeves. "Didn't want to step on anyone's toes here. And certainly not Joan's. So the necklace thingy has our octogram on one side, and the cloak and dagger on the other. Tell me if that's not appropriate, and I'll get a new one made."
Joan smiled. "I think that is very thoughtful and appropriate, Arch-Chancellor." she said. "I've got no objections. Nor will the Dark Council."
Ridcully, with great care, hung the pendant round Bekki's neck. It hung low on her, almost to her knees. He intoned a few words in a low purposeful voice.
"You're right, lad." he said to Ponder, who looked suddenly alert. "There's magic on this. If she wears this and she's ever in bother, I will know. Then I can assist. There's also protection in there. If she takes after her dear mother, she's going to need it."
Johanna thanked him for the gift, then prudently said it was perhaps best returned to its box, until she was older. What might happen if a baby used a magical amulet as a teething ring was something she was not certain about. She guessed it might have consequences. She wasn't sure what sort of consequences, and wasn't keen to experiment.
"Jolly good, then." Ridcully said. He stepped back. "Well, that's my piece said. Who's up next?"
Barbarossa Smith-Rhodes stepped forward. He shook his head. Agnetha shook her head too.
"Not yet, Mustrum. Listen to me. We're this child's grandparents. But justnow, when business is done here, we have to get Home to Howondaland."
"Justnow(7), ja." Agnetha agreed.
"We cennot be here more than for a couple of weeks of eny year. I have a plaas to run. Right now, my oldest son, Johanna's brother, end my son-in-law, are managing the plaas. It's in good hands. But a man must walk his own lend, you hear me?"
Johanna tried not to look relieved that her parents were thinking of leaving. She watched them look over to where Aunt Impetua Stibbons was navigating a world of her own, possibly a long way away from this one. Then back to Ridcully.
"Ponder's parents are long gone. He hes only the one living relative."
Aunt Impetua appeared to be having a spirited conversation with somebody she referred to as Great-Uncle Stavely. Her nurse squeezed her hand reasuringly as she chatted into empty air, pausing now and again to listen for an answer.
Barbarossa looked away and went on. "This creates a gep. Vorbei, a child needs two sets of grandparents! End we must be several thousand miles away, elthough we intend to return es often as we can."
Johanna tried not to let the wince show.
"Well, Barbarossa, old boy, although I agree with you, it does seem to be a done deal that there's only yourself and Agnetha…"
Barbarossa clapped his friend on the shoulder.
"Mustrum. When we first met et Johanna's wedding. You said it yourself. Thet you think of Ponder es a father thinks of a son, end thet you were the nearest end the closest thing to the father of the groom."
Ponder Stibbons jerked up in sudden and deep surprise. Johanna realised that Ridcully had probably never said this to him. Before now. It figured.
Barbarossa let the implications of this sink in, then he clapped Ridcully's shoulder again.
"Mustrum, if you think of Ponder es a son, then whet does thet make you to his daughter?"
Ridcully shook his head, then grinned slowly. Barbarossa pressed his advantage. "Mustrum, a child needs two grendfathers. And you will be closest to the girl es she grows."
"Well." Mustrum Ridcully said, quietly. "looks like you've got me on the hook there, Barbarossa. Seems like I'm now, what do you people call it, an oupa? That's if Johanna agrees, of course, And the lad."
"You will be a very good oupa." Agnetha Smith-Rhodes said, firmly. "You have the right. End I can think of none finer."
Barbarossa laughed. "Now all we need to do is to decide who the second grendmother is to be!"
There was a pause.
"Why on Disc is everybody suddenly looking at me?" Joan Sanderson-Reeves said, crossly.
And later, the witches had their say. It was traditional. Johanna and Ponder took some very deep breaths as the other magic users in the room stepped forwards and gathered around the cradle. Mrs Proust was the City Witch. It was agreed she had a right to attend Namings in the City. And, Ponder knew, she tended to be selective, and turn up only to the ones that promised to be interesting. Otherwise she'd be doing nothing else but – a lot of children were born in the city every year. And if a Witch turned up at your doorstep and requested admission to your child's Naming – then you let her in. On the grounds that at least this way, you actually got to hear the blessing she bestowed on your newborn. And once in, you showed her full unstinting hospitality.
Ponder accepted that she'd shown up with Irena, Olga and Nottie, all of whom had been present on the Night of Bekki's birth and who had assisted with getting Johanna's parents here. They had the right too. Granted, they'd also each brought their flight Feegle, the indispensable navigator to the Pegasus Witch. The three Feegle were among the Goblins, appreciating a drinkie and a social afternoon off work, aye.
Olga Romanoff went first.
"You'll travel far." She said. "You will have a foot in two continents. You will never be the greatest in what you will do. But you'll still make an impact. People will talk about you. You will take wit – your chosen career – to a place where it's needed. And you'll make peace. You'll be good at that. I can see a few moments coming up where you'll need to. In this home, to begin with. And did I mention you're going to be good at languages too? You're going to need it, devyuschka."
Olga stepped away.
Your go, Irena." she said.
Irena Politek smiled slightly.
"You know, you're going to get on with people." she said. "Something your mother still finds difficult. You've got curiosity. You'll use it, too. I'm just betting you'll be good with animals. And you'll be pretty bright. You're going to go far, kid. And since I'm your Godsmother, I'm going to show you how to make the most of what you've been given. And will be given. There are wings in your future."
And then the hideous-looking city witch stepped forward. She cackled, just for the look of the thing, and waited till the room had her attention.
"This one's a peacemaker, alright." she said. "But some people are going to think that makes her a doormat. And they can walk all over her. Then they'll discover whose daughter she is. And there's a fight or two in her future. No point in hiding that. She won't want to fight but if she has to – she will do. There's a River. There's a bright sun shining but it's still dark on both sides. This little girl is going to bring a bit of good wholesome light there. The Dark won't like that at all. But it ain't going to blow the candle out."
Mrs Proust beamed amiably at the room.
"She's got a good future. Some tricky moments, but she'll do alright. Nottie? Any thoughts, love?"
The Crown Princess Esmeralda Margaret Note Spelling of the Kingdom of Lancre who was also a Witch, laid a hand on the cradle. She paused before speaking.
"I'm the fourth witch here and according to the stories, that's one too many. I'm happy to leave the traditional three wishes to Mrs Proust and Olga and Irena. I'll just say when - if - Bekki wants to try out flying, she can hitch a lift on the back of my Pegasus any time she wants and I'll be happy to take her up. Who knows, she'll get airborne all by herself. It's a possibility."
And so the afternoon finished. Johanna and Ponder tried to make sense, later, of the witches' words. They gloomily agreed that magic, and Witchcraft, might be a possibility for their daughter. And that it was best to let the rest work itself out. Just – wait and see.
(1) She was comforted somewhat when her cousin Julian later said to her "it's all dealt with. Remember I got access to the family bank account here? It's on my father. Make sure I get all the bills? Thanks." Johanna had still wondered what sort of favour Uncle Charles was likely to want in return. But that was a discomforting thought to be dealt with later. When the other shoe dropped.
(2) Hard, as it was one of her professional competences at the Guild of Assassins. Exothermic Alchemy was one of the lessons she taught. She was gratified that her younger sister Mariella and her best friend Rivka ben-Devorah were students who had shown exceptional talent in Deployment of Incendiaries, and in necessary related skills such as making the resulting fire look like a regrettable accident. They would both get starred A's that term.
(3) Research threw up a South African group, somewhat popular, formed of older musicians, called the Klipwerf Boerorkes, or just the Klipwerf Orkes. It's….. well, it's the sort of music Arnold Rimmer would have adored. Imagine four comfortably shaped middle aged people, three men and a woman, doing largely keyboard and accordion-based arrangements of old Afrikaaner tunes. What saves it from being corny beyond belief is the obvious joy they get out of doing it. The video for Wie Se Kind Is Jy is in its way wonderful – real joy and pleasure, a catchy tune, and some lively dancing.
(4). Yes. The leeuloop. Think of it as a variation on a theme of line-dancing, with all that implies.
(5) The Liturgy for a Naming in the Church of Blind Io actually said at this point :
President, to the Godsparent: do you renounce ( Astfgl *) and all his works and do you renounce the corruption and deceit of evil?
Godsparent: I so reject and renounce, and I will seek to faithfully guide this child in all the ways of (his/her, delete as appropriate) life under the All-Seeing Eyes of Blind Io.
Or insert here the name of the current Lord of Hell as revealed to us through the Intercession of the Great God
(6) Just so everybody was aware where they stood on the matter of the best possible care. So that no little misunderstandings happened. As Johanna pointed out, "We do not want those, do we? End my husband is a diffident man who would feel awkward ebout raising complaint or objection. I em more direct than that." She did add that she was also capable of rewarding good service with bonuses and little thank-you tokens of appreciation every so often. Aunt Impetua got some very good care as a result.
(7) That great South African expression of relative and elastic time. If a Saffie says they're thinking of doing something justnow, it can mean in five minutes time, in an hour's time, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, or possibly never. If pressed or made aware of the urgency of something, a Saffie might switch from justnow to na-now, which means they're actually on the case.
Notes Dump:
Somewhere in a sea roughly halfway between two continents, the one of the tale being currently written and the semi-glimpsed one of future tales yet to be committed to paper, where isolated ideas are given lifebelts and a signal rocket against being rescued in future. Did I mention I am reading Nelson Mandela's biography "Long Walk To Freedom" and gathering information on what life was like for the other half of South Africa? Useful background for when I come to write Black Howondaland.
There is Homage to Peter Tinniswood's bittersweet and somewhat surreal novels of life in northern England, the Brandon Family saga, where Great-Uncle Stavely is a somewhat confused elderly relative. Tinniswood is reccomended for the way he conflates the gritty everyday realism of Northern English working-class life with some truly surreal comedy touches. The books are deliberately vague as to whether the setting is Yorkshire or Lancashire, although the TV adaptation I Didn't Know You Cared sets the scene very definitively in Yorkshire.
Deleted Segment:
I wondered why I was getting nowhere with this until I realised I was cuddling and over-working what should only be incidental detail. Rather than have everybody present at the family Naming party stepping forward and saying their piece – a series of cameos – I should focus on "edited highlights" and stick with what is essential to the story. But on the other hand, I did write quite a few peoples' vows and promises and it seems a shame to lose them. So here it is as a bonus piece.
Dina Fourie, Student Assassin, Tump House: "Err.. I thank Doctor Smith-Rhodes for inviting me here to be present to see her beautiful baby. And I do thank her for her kindness in inviting me because I'm from Piemberg and she thought that made a difference, even though I'm not close family or even Family at all… errr. Well, if you need a babysitter, Mevrou Doktor, I'd really love to be asked and I swear I'll never let you down. And I'd never let Rebecka down. Err.."
Miss Alice Band, licenced Assassin and Official Godsmother (#1): "Well, it's a honour to have been asked. Anyone who knows me will know I'm not mad keen on the idea of having children myself. It's something I'd quite like to avoid, in fact. But that doesn't mean I'm against the idea of other people having them. And after everything else that's happened over the last few months, just being here is something to be thankful for. I'm pleased. Rebecka. I want to be here for you as you grow up. I owe it to your mother, who is one of my closest friends. I might sometimes shout at you for the good of your soul, and I'd be surprised if I don't. I've shouted at your mother sometimes, and that doesn't mean I don't love her. So what can I say? I'll be there when you need me and if there's anything I can teach you that you might find useful, I will do. Whether you come to the School or not. And that's a promise."
Miss Rivka ben-Devorah Bechstein, Student, Black Widow House: "Well, kid, in a roundabout sort of way you got my name. That's got to mean something. I'm a Rivka, you're a Rebecca. I think we're going to get on. Gevalt, if Johanna and Ponder think I'm not going to be a part of your life after Naming you after me, they've got another think coming. They won't get rid of me that easily. You're an oldest daughter. But that doesn't mean you can't have a big sister. You've got me. If you want me. I kind of fought for you the night you were born. I'll fight for you again if it needs me to."
Mariella Smith-Rhodes, Student, Black Widow House, and Aunt:
"You're not my first niece. You won't be my last, either. But everything Rivka said, and then some. I fought for you too, and the people who would have killed you and your mother nearly killed me. Twice. It wasn't for want of their trying. If it comes to having to fight for you again, I'll be there. And maybe you'll be old enough to fight alongside me. Looking at people like your mother, and Miss Band, and Madame Emmanuelle, and Miss N'Kweze, and Miss Sanderson-Reeves, you'll certainly be taught how to fight. It's inevitable, so you'd better learn to live with it. And if that's what happens, I'll be there. You'll always have an aunt, though. Lots of aunts. Being part of this Family isn't all bad news."
Captain Julian Smith-Rhodes, official Godsfather:
"Err. Sorry, I haven't had much practice in holding babies. She is the right way up, Johanna? Thanks. Well, she's a Smith-Rhodes. People say that's a life sentence. With no hope of parole. Welcome to the Family, Bekki. You know, fighting for you on the night and doing what we could to make sure you arrived in the world is only half the story, I think. Not even half. You can't just walk away and say "Well, that's it, lovely daughter, job done, see you later, and good luck." It's starting to look as if we're in for a long trek and it's going to last the rest of your life. Or my life. Or somebody's life. And, well, there are two halves to the Smith-Rhodes family. Because my side of the family took a different direction, we prefer to speak Morporkian. This side prefers to speak Vondalaans. All down to a disagreement between the surviving sons of Sir Cecil Smith-Rhodes after the War of Independence. I know my father and Uncle Andreas believe the two branches of the Family should come closer again. And having fought for my life alongside Johanna – twice – I have a feeling we've drawn closer still. I hope as Bekki grows up, she'll feel at home whichever side of the Family she's with. Maybe helping that along is a godsfather's job, and I'm pleased to do it."
The Comptesse Emmanuelle de Lapoignard, licenced Assassin:
"Eh bien. May this child grow up to be happy, healthy, and joyous. May she learn to laugh and appreciate a good joke. She will ever be a friend who may call upon me in need. I suppose I can teach her to gamble responsibly and to use a sword. And what she needs to know about men, in due course. Eve, cherie, is there more of that most agreeable red wine? Merci beaucoup."
His Excellency Pieter van der Graaf, Ambassador of the Republic of Rimwards Howondaland to Ankh-Morpork:
"I'm here as a Family member and not in any official capacity. All the official things have been done, and my signature is barely dry on the birth certificate. What can I say as her great-uncle? I rather suspect this child is destined for an eventful life. Members of the Smith-Rhodes family do rather tend to have eventful lives which are full of incident, after all. But I'm sure all the people gathered here – including, I hope, myself - have skills and talents they will willingly pass on, which will prepare her for that life. I have every confidence she will thrive on her chosen road in life. And every hope she grows up calling me Uncle. I'd be disappointed if she didn't."
Lady Friejda van der Graaf, his wife:
"I'm so glad. I knew Johanna would have beautiful children when she finally settled down and married a good man. I hope Rebecka comes to Howondaland and sees her other country. When Pieter retires from the Diplomatic Service and we return there, she will be so welcome."
The Crown Princess Esmeralda Margaret Note Spelling of the Kingdom of Lancre, Witch:
"I'm the fourth witch here and according to the stories, that's one too many. I'll leave the traditional three wishes to Mrs Proust and Olga and Irena. I'll just say when - if - Bekki wants to try out flying, she can hitch a lift on the back of my Pegasus any time she wants and I'll be happy to take her up. Who knows, she'll get airborne all by herself. It's a possibility."
Miss Ruth N'Kweze, Paramount Crown Princess of the Zulu Empire and licenced Assassin:
The majority of people in the room were White Howondalandian. Today Ruth was dressed in Central Continent style, in her best formal Assassin black; one of only two black-skinned people present who were, very emphatically, not servants. The majority of people in the room were White Howondalandian. Almost all of whom knew Ruth and were happy at her presence here. Johanna smiled slightly as Ruth took down the shield and assegai from above the fireplace. Aunt Friejda gave a little shriek of supressed terror. Uncle Pieter took her arm reassuringly and whispered something. Johanna noted her father beaming almost approvingly. "This should be good!" she heard him say, in what he tended to think of as a discreet whisper. Barbarossa Smith-Rhodes and discreet subtlety were not two concepts that went together, as a rule.
People made way as Ruth stalked towards the cradle. She smiled at Aunt Friejda.
Then she raised shield and spear, and ululated a cry in the Zulu language, breaking into song.
"Aiko biyaye!"
At its end, she made the warrior salute to the child in the cradle.
"Lady Friejda, I carried this shield and spear in the defence of this home some weeks ago." Ruth said. "Of my own free will I fought for this family. I fought for the woman who offered hospitality to me. I fought for Johanna. I was glad to fight for her. I fought for her daughter. My song was to welcome Bekki to the world, to express gladness at her birth, and to offer her my spear and my right arm if she needs me to fight for her. I hope this child grows, in whatever way is most fitting, into a warrior like her mother. Like her mother, she will have my shield and my spear to call on. But as with her mother, saving only one circumstance. I agreed with Johanna a long time ago we were never going to fight. Excepting one situation and one situation only. If your people cross into my country to fight and we end up on opposite sides – well, then, we fight. Till then, we are friends.
"I hope that one day, if Bekki stands on the bank of a certain River and looks to the other bank, and has no ill-will to my people, she can cross over and we can welcome her as a friend. Her mother can never do that. Perhaps her daughter might. And on that day, I would welcome her. And no, Ambassador van der Graaf, I am not speaking in an official capacity either. My people would consider that a dangerous ideal to express openly."
Pieter van der Graaf smiled. "I hear you, Your Royal Highness." he said. Ruth nodded and returned the weapons to the wall.
Op Die Veldt Deze Nacht Die Leeu Geschickt, head of the household's Goblin community, stepped forward next. He grinned up at everyone.
"The new cub-human is born to Red Fox-Hair, Liberator of Goblins." he said. "Birth of new cub is great occasion to all peoples. In this room I see Girl-Prickly-As-Desert-Cactus. I see Red-Vixen-Cub-Wielder-Of-Bloody-Spear. I see also Clever-As-Fox-Who-fought-For-Goblins and the lady Black-Panther-With-Stabbing-Spear. And the dangerous lady Black-Rose-With-Two-Thorns, Men-Who-Seek-To-Pick-This-Rose-Will-Bleed. (8) Goblin people only give long name to great humans who merit it. But all should have name at birth. No name is no life. We have talked. Zulu people gave Red Fox-Hair, Liberator of Goblins, name of Red Death. Her cub is newborn and life is in her, great life. We see future dimly. If her dam is Red Death, the cub is Red Life. When she do things to be worthy of it, we add extra name. The friendship of my clan be with her. We fight for her, as we fight for her mother."
Olga Romanoff, Pegasus Service Pilot, City Watch Air Policewoman, and most crucially here, Witch:
Irena Politek, Official Godsmother(#2), Pegasus Service Pilot, City Watch Air Policewoman, and most crucially here, Witch:
Mrs Eunice Proust, City Witch:
Mustrum Ridcully, Arch-Chancellor of Unseen University and a man who will receive another vital position with regard to the upbringing of the child:
(8) Little game – match the Goblin name to the person.