Strandpiel 38
'N verhaal van twee Rutte in gevegte – Two Ruths get into fights
Twee Ruths, twee gevegte
We're back! Taking an unexpectedly darker turn with warclouds looming – but all to set the scene for Bekki arriving in Howondaland, which will be soon. Continuing the logic of the story from the last episode which is now apparently becoming a mighty saga of interlocked family and friends on two continents, not just about Bekki. Again first imprint, will revise for typos. Lots of ideas, too little time. I have MANY ideas sketched out and roughly plotted. It is just a matter of finding time... too many ideas and scenes, in fact – all in my head and jostling for priority! Keeping the flow going, will be back to revise and add more footnotes. Second imprint taking into account typos noted by readers who are more alert than I am...
The Zulu Empire, some way inland from the coast:
She had arrived by night, landed from a fast boat that had sailed down the coast, one of many coastal trading vessels that plied the seas around the Gulf of Ghat. Nobody saw the boat pull into the shore and land its passenger, the captain heartily relieved that his supercargo had been offloaded. She had made the sailors nervous, and losing poor Ramesh overboard – he must have lost his footing on the deck, everybody had heard the splash, it was just that, nothing more serious, surely – had unsettled everybody. There had been mutterings about the passenger.
But she had gone now. The job was over. Another crew would collect her at the same point in a few weeks. She wasn't his problem any more...
And the woman made her way inland, moving through the Zulu Empire, seeking her destination. When hunger struck her, she stopped to eat. The local people were hospitable and the food was plentiful. Robed in a blanket in the native style, she had passed for a light-skinned native from a remote part of the Empire where the locals spoke barely any Zulu. This neatly explained any oddnesses. As she was tidy and conscientious, she disposed of the leftovers and scraps in the appropriate way. Then, fed and rested, she thanked her hosts for the courtesy and moved on. The Zulu Empire was a settled and mannered place where people felt a duty of hospitality to travellers; law was enforced, the people were law-abiding, and a lone woman travelling the ways between kraals was not molested or unduly bothered. There had been a moment of incivility with a patrol of soldiers, but it had sorted itself out, as these things do. And while walking on the veldt, she thought of the task ahead. She might not survive. That was irrelevant. The Theocrat had ordered it. It would be done.
Spa Lane, Ankh-Morpork:
Ruth Smith-Rhodes-Stibbons awoke. She was in her bed, yes. But there was no bedroom there. The familiar walls, the ceiling above her, even that part of the house that was above her head, the floor above that had the room where her first nanny Annaliese had lived – it was gone. Her art, her musical instruments, everything. Only her bed remained, on a wide flat roof. She knew the long-disused stable mews, which her parents now used only for storage and the gardener used as an occassional shed, was below her.
Ruth frowned. Mummy had said that the house had been like this when she and Daddy had bought it, and the room where Ruth slept and the rooms and roof above had been built onto the mews later. Something about Ouma Agnetha and an Aunt Friejda who Ruth could barely recall, how they'd insisted on this. A long time before she, Ruth, had been born. It had just been a flat roof then. Mummy had joked that it was just as well, or else Ruth would have been sleeping on that bare roof under the stars – and the rain – with nowhere to keep her art and her music.
"I'd quite like to wake up properly, please." Ruth said, with forced calm. "Back in my bedroom with everything as it is. As I'd like it to be."
She heard a suspicion of a laugh at the edge of her hearing.
Oh. She thought. It's them again. She wondered what They wanted this time. Ruth drew her knees up to her chin and watched, cautiously, aware this was probably another of those dreams and even if it was terrifying, as these dreams were, she'd eventually wake up in her bed again, in her room, hopefully not in the pitch-black night. Although unknown to her parents – both would have words to say – she'd got hold of some of the interesting technology the Clacks people used for seeing at night. She'd got it from the house-goblins who ran the Clacks: tubes full of oily chemicals that, when you shook them, activated the contents and radiated light. She was entranced by them, she really wanted to know how the alchemy worked, but she also found a practical application. The ones that radiated something like natural daylight were really handy if she woke up at two in the morning, with a compulsion to sketch. After a dream like this it helped to expel the bad memory. And some of the things she saw in her dreams demanded that they be sketched, before the memory faded.
Ruth watched, relieved it was a warm spring evening and it wasn't raining. The dream could have chosen to be in the depths of winter, after all. She heard commotion and noise in the distance. It sounded as if some sort of fight was happening downstairs in the house. Banging, crashing and screams of pain and rage. Frightened, she wondered what was happening. She heard more noise on the roof and heard something fall and crash. Peopel were arriving in the garden. Lots of people. She heard the clashing of swords and distant muffled voices came to her on the breeze. She thought she heard her mother's voice. It made no sense.
I'm the one you want. Why don't you come at me and we'll finish this now...
There was a shout of hate and rage. Words clashed again. And then Ruth jumped in fear as a body plunged past her and the man rolled in mid-air to cushion his fall as best he could, then laid on the flat roof, seemingly immobile. Then there was another, more controlled, fall. Ruth cried out, unheard, as the woman she recognised as Mummy landed on her feet, swayed as if controlling herself, a spasm of sudden pain and discomfort on her face, then drew her sword again, the edge of silver on a black blade glittering in the night. Mummy wobbled slightly. Ruth cried out to her but was again unheard. Mummy was bigger around the middle. Like Auntie Heidi was big around the middle, big with the new baby Ruth was excited to see. Mummy moved with effort and obvious difficulty. But she approached the prone body cautiously, her sword poised to strike...
Then Ruth screamed as the man leapt to his feet, his own sword suddenly out. Blades clashed again. Ruth forced herself to watch, and realised something new. Both fighters were surrounded by a halo of light. A little part of Ruth's head was saying things like This is important. Everybody carries their own light. You can paint this, later, when you return to your own time and place.
The man, she realised, was evil. He was surrounded by a halo of black light. Ruth hadn't realised black could be a light too. It was shot through with lightning-flashes of red. She read anger, hate, a desire to destroy. This was a man who had killed people and caused pain for fun. And he hated Mummy. The red lightning-flashes reached out to her and tried to attack her. And she saw where some of the lightning flashes were aimed and she screamed "No!" Again she was unheard.
And Mummy's light was... yellow and orange and red. Like fire. Like flame. But it was cleaner, by a long way. Mummy was angry too. She wanted some sort of revenge. The red said so. Ruth saw something else too. Deep down in there. In mummy's tummy. A second set of lights. Blue and green this time, a clear light blue tinged with green, like leaves on a tree on a sunny day, almost translucent. Mummy's baby. And the way some of Mummy's yellow and orange light enclosed it like a shield, deflecting and fighting the evil man's angry scarlet.
But Mummy was struggling. Something made her nearly double over, as if she was in pain. The evil man laughed. It was nasty to hear.
"The baby kicking, little lady?" he asked, in Vondalaans. "Well, we can soon fix that!"
Then Ruth looked up. She saw the winged white horses in the sky. One, then a second, descended to ground level out of sight. People were on them, who she knew she would recognise if they came close enough. But the third came to the rooftop and landed in exactly the place where Ruth had worked out her easel and art desk would stand. That was interesting.
She watched, in fear and terror and fascination, as two people got off it. One, the pilot, she now recognised as Auntie Irena, the witch who was Bekki's godsmother. Auntie Irena was nice and kind and pleasant. But she looked younger, a lot younger. Ruth called to her as she went to her mount's bridle to steady the Pegasus. Just for a second, Irena frowned and looked over, as if half-seeing somebody. But she then looked to the immediately important thing that was happening and the moment was lost. And Ruth recognised the big man, the really big man, who had been the passenger.
"Oupa!" she called, wanting her grandfather's big strong arms around her. But like every other family member in this sort of dream, he ignored her and treated her as if she was invisible and inaudible. Ruth had had this sort of dream before: being in a glass box, banging on the glass to be let out, screaming at family members that she was there and she wanted them to see her and let her out, why can't you see me? And They had been in those dreams too, watching and sniggering at her fear and pain and hurt.
Then Ruth watched the rest. She realised, suddenly, the sort of things her grandfather was prepared and willing to do, so as to keep his family safe. It wasn't nice to watch. But it reassured her that Oupa Barbarossa was there and that he'd saved Mummy's life. And suddenly, seeing her mother and grandfather so much younger, she realised who the blue and green flame in Mummy's belly actually was. Or would be...
~~Ruth Leonora Daquirmia Smith-Rhodes-Stibbons. We will be back to see you again. For now, draw what you have seen tonight.
And Ruth awoke in her bed in her familiar room with everything as it should be. Her heart hammered. After a while she swung her legs out of bed and her fingers searched, first, for the daylight-tube. Then for pencils and sketch pad.
And she thought Daquirmia? That isn't my name.
Elsewhere in the house, Bekki Smith-Rhodes awoke suddenly. She'd had a dark dream herself. She couldn't recall the specifics, but it had begun with her wrapped in a warm, blissful, state suspended in a sort of cocoon suffused with faint rosy-pink tinted light. She had been aware of a regular pulsing beat in the background, strong and nurturing. Then the beat had speeded up. And a sense of something being terribly wrong had intruded. It had become louder and more insistent and she had felt panic, fear, and distress. The nurturing cocoon had suddenly become claustrophobic and constricting. Without words, without language, the imperative had arisen – I must leave this place!
Then she had awoken.
Her witch-senses twanged. Something was terribly, terribly, wrong. She focused. It centred on... Ruth. My sister. Bekki practically ran on bare feet to her sister's room. Something was attacking Ruth. Well, that Something was going to see a Witch with a reason to get angry... a stray thought arose in her head. If Famke were here their other sister would get angry too. Famke would go utterly insane. She'd go way past eleven if anything were threatening Ruth. The idea made her grin a little. The Tykebomb, with a reason to go off bang. It helped restore normality after an opressive nightmare.
Not nightmare. Dad said if you're a magic-user, they're never just dreams...
Bekki found her sister sitting at her workstation industriously drawing.
"Hei, Ruthie." she said. "Bad dream, baby?"
Ruth looked up.
"Another one." she said, resignedly.
"Ah-huh. Want to tell me about it? That helps."
Bekki focused and tried to sense the psychic atmosphere. She sensed something unwholesome. But it had recognised her. It was withdrawing hurriedly. Maybe, she thought, it had sensed a Witch and the power she had and didn't want a fight. It felt, in a horrible way, familiar from somewhere.
"Hear this." she said. "If you want to hurt my sister. I swear I will find you. And destroy you. You want Ruth, you get through me first. And be thankful our mother doesn't know about this. Yet."
A voice only Bekki could hear – she assumed – said
"We're here too, liewe heksie. We felt something was wrong. We'll keep watch with you."
Bekki smiled, and thanked the Ancestors. She sensed Johanna Cornelia and Johanna Martia in the room. She had a feeling the ghosts of her family weren't without power in their own space. Back-up. She decided to ask them later, not knowing yet how much Ruth was aware of.
Ruth giggled, nervously.
"I saw Mummy in the dream." she said. "And Oupa Barbarossa. They were fighting somebody too. And they beat him. Between them."
"Runs in the family, sweetheart." Bekki said. "People try to attack us. We deal with them. We do whatever works. Family motto."
The spirit of Johanna Martia Smith-Rhodes nodded meaningfully.
Then Bekki looked down and saw exactly what Ruth was drawing. Her blood ran cold.
"Ruth." Bekki said, slowly and deliberately. "You see these Things in your dreams?" She carefully enunciated the capital T.
Ruth nodded.
"They really frighten me in the bad dreams." She said. "But I draw them afterwards. They're still a bit scary on the page. Even if they look really silly when you see them the right way. It helps me feel better afterwards."
"Why not talk to me about it?" Bekki asked. She wished her father was here. But Dad was staying overnight in Pseudopolis at the University there. He'd probably be in no fit state to move much after the classic Wizard dinner. She could talk to him tomorrow, after he came home. He'd asked her. To keep an Eye on Ruth. He'd sensed something was brewing. Wizards weren't completely oblivious to the shape of things; Dad had been watching Ruth for some time and had said to Bekki that she was developing some sort of magical ability, but he wasn't sure what.
Bekki wondered if her sister was getting late-onset witchcraft. It was a definite possibility: it was latent in some people and didn't become obvious for a while.
"Listen. When I was about the same age as you. I started seeing these Things in dreams too. But you need to know some things aren't just dreams. They're more real than that..."
They talked together. Ruth finished her sketch as they talked. Then Bekki spent the rest of the night in bed with her sister, hugging her protectively and throwing a silent challenge and a threat out into the psychic ether.
Remember. You get through me first. Nanny Ogg and Mistress Tiffany Aching – and you will know those names – called me a Defender. And if you want to know if I can Defend – well, bring it on!
Both fell asleep. Neither was aware, on the material plane, of Johanna Smith-Rhodes, looking in briefly to assure herself that her daughters were safe and protected from more mundane perils. Johanna had sensed something was wrong too. She was a mother and a trained Assassin. A tremor in the pulse of the house, nothing she could put a finger on, had made her get out of bed and reach for weapons. She had silently toured the house, sensing for intrusions or unrest of any sort. Two huge mastiffs had woken and were padding alongside her. Johanna had felt reassured: any mundane intrusion would have been met with jaws and teeth. Ruling out anything non-magical, she'd noted Bekki's being on the case and protecting her sister. Magic, then. Bekki's dealing with it. I'll talk to her in the morning and then we can talk to Ponder when he comes home. Johanna had returned to bed and slept.
After breakfast the next morning, guests arrived unexpectedly. Mum seemd unsurprised. But Bekki was really pleased to see Godsmother Irena. And better, she'd brought Sophie Rawlinson with her. Mum ordered tea and biscuits to be brought for the two visiting witches. As sophie was the youngest and lowest-ranking, she got to do the pouring. Bekki approved of this. It was also good to have her first teacher in Witchcraft visit the house. It meant she could talk about the previous night's events and seek advice.
But first, there was the reason why the two witches were here.
Mum passed over a large carefully wrapped and protected parcel and a bundle of mail.
"You got the other stuff, Irena?" mum asked.
Irena grinned.
"Just, er, collected that in the Shires." Irena said. "Borsetshire, to be exact. Quirebridge. Got Sophie to do the collecting. Good training. It's in a coldbox in the panniers. So we can't hang around too long."
"Ah-huh. I've put the invoice in with the mail. Ruth knows to pay on delivery." Mum said, mysteriously.
"Ruth?" Bekki asked.
"Ruth N'Kweze, devyuschka." Irena said. "Next stop is Howondaland."
"Keep it discreet." Mum said. "If enyone esks, Ruth got this through a third party on the bleck market. No racist joke intended."
Bekki must have looked puzzled. Irena and her mother clarified.
"I see." Bekki said. "One of the Devices. And a cargo of, er, juice, from a Best-In-Show winning prize bull from the Shires. The farmer gets a premium for every resultant calf. Mum gets paid for the Device and a percentage on the deal per calf. But because Rimwards Howondaland considers selling technology to the Zulus is an act of treason, it has to be deniable."
"Good for Sophie too." Irena said. "I take her on a few Pegasus Service runs as a passenger. To give her a taster, until Rosie is old enough to take a rider. To introduce her to long-haul flights. I'd have taken you on this one, devyuschka, except that a white-skinned red-haired person called Smith-Rhodes, with Rimwards Howondalandian nationality, is not going to be all that welcome in the Zulu Empire. Something to do with your mother and your aunt, apparently. Blame them."
Johanna smiled slightly.
"Petricien Vetineri considers this sort of thing to be completely ecceptible." she said. "The sharing of non-military technology, to enhence the general state of well-being end international co-operation eround the Disc. Et the right price, with sales tex chergeable to the City."
Johanna then explained the foundation of wealth for a Zulu was based on what could be called the Cattle Standard. The more head of cattle and other livestock a Prince or Princess had, the wealthier and more powerful they were. Therefore the emphasis had been on numbers rather than quality. A lot of Zulu cattle were, frankly, scrubby and runty. Cross-breeding them to the best the Central Continent had to offer would be a massive step up. And Ruth N'Kweze had realised artificial insemination would be a massive benefit to her in terms of both quality and quantity. She was the first Zulu cattle-owner to have seen the possibilities. Johanna was keen to help her old friend in this.
But because the cattle generated the wealth that sustained her military operation and paid for her impi, her command kraal, and her ongoing research and development, the government of Rimwards Howondaland might be inclined to see this as a massive and blatant act of treason on Johanna's part, and BOSS had been looking for something like this for years. Hence the need for discretion and a cover story.
"Es it heppens, I believe Ruth when she says she does not want war with our people." Johanna said. "I'd far rather hev people who think like Ruth get power in the Empire. End a civil war, which she is trying to prevent, would break the Empire, create instebility, end ellow people to get into positions of power who do want a war with us. So I see no conflict of interests. Besides, if a big war heppens, our femily are on the Border, right in their line of etteck. So I em heppy to do whet I cen to keep things stable. End Ruth is en old friend to whom I owe favours."
"And I get a few days in Howondaland, doing the work." Sophie said. "Hey, I can borrow a horse. Go for rides on your Veldt!"
"Ensure you have a local guide." Johanna said. "It is easy to get lost, if you do not know the Veldt end the Bush. Ruth will provide you with a guide end en escort. Trust whoever she gives you, end be sure to take their edvice."
"You've learnt from your Uncle Charles, then." Irena said, grinning. Johanna gave her a sharp look, then grinned.
"Ag. I'm just betting some of the crossbows her troops are getting hev hed the serial numbers end the maker's marks filed off." she said. "Sold through intermediaries end agents, of course. Giving – selling - her something which in this case is not obviously a weapon is completely in the femily tredition."
Then the three Witches discussed the previous night and Ruth, the younger Ruth's, bad dreams. Ruth had gone to school some time previously, seemingly unaffected by her interrupted sleep. Johanna listened attentively.
"Give them Hell, devyushka." Irena said. "It won't hurt for Ponder to check out the magical defences this house has, too. He's back later?"
Later, they waved the Pegasus off and watched it wink out of normal space somewhere in the sky above. Bekki reflected that Irena was dropping Sophie off at Ruth N'Kweze's kraal, then flying over the border to collect her grandparents in order to ferry them back to Ankh-Moprork on the return run. She'd deliver them directly to Auntie Heidi and Uncle Danie, where they'd be staying for a few weeks. Mum was steeling herself and had warned the servants that the Old Madam was back in town. Claude had prudently ordered in several crates of Oupa's favourite local beers, just in case.
Justnow it wasn't Bekki's biggest concern. It would be nice to see Oupa and Ouma again, obviously, but she had a pleasant evening out planned. It would be nice to root herself in normality, with several magical trials looming up to challenge Bekki the Witch. But Bekki, the girl, felt she deserved some me-time.
She then went to sort out the vexing and agonising challenge of What To Wear.
Café Necros, Peach Pie Street, Ankh-Morpork:
In the summer, Café Necros became a pavement café in the Quirmian tradition. Tables and chairs were moved out onto the street. As this was Ankh-Morpork, they needed to be chained to retaining brackets set into the pavement. People would steal anything, even from a venue like Necros with its unique waiting staff.
The broomstick descending into the street turned a few heads. Witches were not unknown in the city. Even so, a girl on a broom executing a careful landing outside the café got appreciative looks and a round of applause, especially from the black-clad student Assassins who used the place as a meeting-point and social venue.
Bekki grinned, adjusted the set of her pointy hat – people needed to know she was a Witch - and she went to join a group of students, who made room for her and politely provided a chair.
"Hei, Ampie." she said to him. "Howzit?"
"A lot more pleasantly and interestingly, now you're here." he replied, with a grin. Bekki smiled and sat next to him. The students were Rimwards Howondalandian. The conversation was in Vondalaans. They accepted her as one of their own.
Bekki relaxed, enjoying herself and appreciating. It was nice to have time for things like this. She accepted coffee from one of the waitresses and wondered if anyone would dare to have coffee and a meal here and then run without paying. Offenders might become a meal. Admittedly the waiting staff all wore the black ribbon. But they could relapse, and then afterwards express guilty atonement at the League of Temperance... this added an extra frisson of danger to the accepted trendy meeting-place for older student Assassins, allowed to go into the City in between finishing schoolwork and curfew at the Guild. It was good for witches to be seen here, too.
Spa Lane, Ankh-Morpork:
"I see." Ponder Stibbons said. He still felt delicate from the previous night's dinner. Braseneck had constraints and its catering budget was nowhere near as big as Unseen's. Mustrum Ridcully had commiserated weith Dean Henry over this. But the meal had still been far too large for him. "Ruth might be developing magic. And They're taking an interest."
"Bekki fought them off." Johanna said. "Conclusively. And they know it. Which is why, going by what I heard, they didn't hang around when they realised she was aware and prepared to fight for Ruth. And Bekki said she wasn't alone."
"This is true, Johanna Famke." said a voice only Ponder heard. "We would have done what we can, also."
"I don't doubt you." Ponder said. Johanna realised he wasn't talking to her. It was still hard to get to grips with, although in unique circumstances Johanna had spent time, time she'd appreciated, speaking to one of them, the one who had been closest to her in her life. She knew they were real.
"Err. Johanna Martia, isn't it?"
"I am, Professor Stibbons." she confirmed. "Please be assured we will keep watch also."
"Thank you. So. Where's Bekki?" Ponder asked. He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly where.
"She's out with her boyfriend, Ponder. And don't look so dismayed. He's a perfectly nice young man. I've taught him for nearly six years. I should know. And you've met him, remember?"
It could have been one of your student wizards. said Johanna Martia, helpfully. "From the Department of Necromancy. I'm sorry. Post-Mortem Communications."
There was the suspicion of a snigger in the psychic ether. Ponder really shuddered. He knew the sort of students who aspired to the skull ring.
"So there could be worse suitors. Johanna Francesca is considering visiting there. It is her sense of humour. Just to give them something to think about."
Ponder considered the idea of the deceased Johanna Smith-Rhodeses visiting post-Mortem Communications as a group. Just to, you know, communicate. It's what you are for, ja-nie? The idea made him smile quietly. It would make Hix a lot less smug and self-assured.
They discussed what to do about Ruth for a while, Ponder relaying the words of the deceased person in the room to his wife.
Then the message arrived. Johanna called for Shauna, who was spending an evening with Ruth up in her room. Shauna O'Hennigan was pretty much, these days, something of a paid friend and governess to Ruth as her free time allowed. Johanna thought it was good for both of them.
You had better go, then. There was a reflective moment on the part of Johanna Martia. Ponder wondered about this. We had all better go, I think.
Café Necros, Peach Pie Street, Ankh-Morpork:
"I suppose it is strange, yes." Bekki said. "From your point of view. That I only spend a little time every year in Howondaland, but I speak Vondalaans as well as anybody here. And when I switch languages, my accent is Morporkian. People don't expect that. That's Mum, I think. And the community here. How I was brought up."
"There are a few little oddnesses in the way you speak." Ampie said, thoughtfully. And carefully. "But that's inevitable?"
"It's that strandpiel thing again." Bekki said. "I'm a strandpiel by birth. You all became strandpiels when you all came here, aged eleven. My Aunt Mariella said she didn't realise it at first, but people from Home said she was losing her accent and starting to talk as if she was a Morporkian, after she'd been here a few years."
There were reflective nods and rueful smiles.
"The thing about two cultures meeting. I was born to it. My nanny when I was really tiny, and she was my nanny for a long time, came from Phlaanders. You've heard of Phlaanders? Odd place. Not quite in Sto Kerrig. They speak a language you can understand. But it's strange. And for some reason a lot of people there also speak Quirmian as a first language. Auntie Em... Madame Emmanuelle – says the Quirmian they speak there sounds odd to her. Like the way Phlegmish sounds odd to us. But Annaliese comes from the Phlegmish-speaking half. So straight away I was hearing Vondalaans from my mum and her side of the family, and Phlegmish from my nanny. (1) And there are differences. You know how in Vondalaans, if you've had a good dinner, you might say Ek is vol? To say you're full up and you can't eat another thing? Well. In Phlegmish or Kerrigian, it means something different. Ik is voll means I am pregnant. Full of baby. You have to be careful."
There was some appreciative laughter.
"And let me explain the thing about cats to you. When I first got my pet cats I was five. I got from Annaliese that you call them to you with Hier, poese, poese, poese."
There waas a certain amount of laughter here.
"I see you're ahead of me here. Well, mum heard me and Annaliese. She went sort of thoughtful. Then she said "Annaliese. In Howondaland. We use a different word. For calling our cats. You should use it too, Rebecka. Hier, katjie, katjie, katjie!" Then Mum whispered into Annaliese's ear what it meant in Vondalaans, and Annaliese went bright red. She wouldn't tell me, though. Took me years to figure it out!" (2)
Bekki was beginning to enjoy herself. And thern the bright green blur of pixels happened. She wited for it to coalesce into Grindguts the Destroying Demon. The Assassin students also watched him attentively. The green sprite nodded up at Ampie in a meaningful way.
"I'm watching you around our girl, matey." he said. "Just so you know."
Bekki sighed.
"What is it, Grindguts?"
"Messages, Bekki, love." the demon said. "Your granny and grand-dad arrived from Howondaland about two hours ago. They went straight to Danie and Heidi's. And your Auntie Heidi got taken with the baby. She's just been took to the Lady Sybil. Said she wants you there. She insisted."
Bekki was already standing up and putting the pointy hat on. She grabbed her broomstick. Leisure time was over.
"Asseblief, Ampie." she said. Impulsively, she kissed him on the cheek. "Got to go."
"I understand." he said. "Look, it's starting to get dark out there. At least let me see you to the Lady Sybil."
Bekki heard the unspoken spill words.
"What. You mean, escort me?"
"Ja. I'd have at least offered to see you home."
She considered.
"Okay. You can get on the back. I can fly you while you escort me."
They arrived at the Lady ybil a few minutes later. Bekki was aware Ampie was shaking slightly from what amounted to a vertical take-off and a pretty nearly immediately fast descent. The Lady Sybil wasn't that far from Peach Pie Street.
Bekki accosted a medical student and demanded to know the way.
"Ah. From here to Maternity?"
She glowered at him.
"Look. Not hard to work out. You're a witch. And midwifing is something you witches do?"
The student doctor took them there. Bekki wasn't surprised to see her grandmother in the corridor outside a delivery room. They hugged. Then Ouma Agnetha took a long cool look at Ampie, who had tagged along.
"This is the young man I was hearing about?"
"Ja, ouma. He very kindly offered to escort me here."
Ampie blinked. It was like looking at an older version of Doctor Smith-Rhodes, the sort of woman she might become twenty or more years on, with the sort of very white hair which is the final destination for all redheads. He treated her with utmost respect. This seemed safest.
"Ja, mevrou Smith-Rhodes." Ampie said. "I would have offered to escort Rebecka home, as it is getting dark outside and this can be a dangerous city."
Agnetha considered this, and nodded. She smiled slightly and considered for an instant. Then she smiled slightly again.
"Well, since you are here. And you were considerate enough to escort Rebecka here, and I thank you." She nodded towards a door.
"It occurs to me students at your school will wish to know Heidi will be safely delivered of a child." She said. "I understand she is well thought of. You can carry the news, when the event happens. Waiting room is over there, where the men are. Go in. Tell them I sent you. Come with me, Rebecka."
"Good luck, Ampie." Bekki said. Then they went into the delivery room. Ampie heard a voice in pain and discomfort shouting something about Danie Smith-Rhodes being the biggest bliksem to walk the Gods' green Disc. He shrugged, and steeled himself to enter the waiting room. He was Assassin enough to assess for hidden perils first. Then walked in to find out what the hidden perils actually were.
All conversation stopped. Several sets of eyes scrutinised him. Not necessarily in a friendly way. He recognised several faces. He gulped.
"Hey, bro! Howzit?" Danie Smith-Rhodes said. He looked worried. "Dad, this is the boykie I was telling you about. The odd one who prefers to play crockett." Then Danie added, as an afterthought, "Seeing Bekki."
The truly huge man who was standing close to Danie glowered and scowled.
"THIS is the boy?" he demanded. Ampie suddenly felt terrified. Especially since the mild-looking Wizard who was in there too was looking his way. Bekki's father. And grandfather. Both at once.
The giant took a step nearer and glowered down. Ampie mastered himself.
"It is true, menheer Smith-Rhodes." he said. "When Rebecka received the news she was wanted here, I offered to escort her. We met her grandmother. She received me and invited me to wait in here. With you all. Errr."
There was a silence. Barbarossa Smith-Rhodes continued to glare down at him.
"It was becoming dark." Ampie added. "Rather than have her walk here on her own. Errr."
"Be thankful this is a hospital, boy." Barbarossa said. "Not far to travel if you are injured. Convenient, perhaps."
Barbarossa paused to let this sink in. Passing into the quiet place beyond terror, Ampie noted Danie Smith-Rhodes grinning at him. As was the other occupant of the room, the unheeded fourth person. Who was, he had to admit, distinctive.
"Now see here, boy." Barbarossa continued. "I may get to like you. All things are possible. But I tell you. So you know. My grand-daughters, like my daughters, are gold and silver and diamonds to me. I will not permit disrespect or bad behaviour to them. And Rebecka is a grand-daughter I am especially fond of. I was last here, in this very room, the night her mother brought her into the world. And maar, the things that happened on that night to ensure Rebecka came safely into this world mean she is especially loved. Do you follow me? Are we understood?"
"Yes, sir..."
"Then join us, boy, and we can get to know each other. Danie quite likes you, I believe. But then, Danie quite likes everybody."
He nodded dimissal, for the moment.
The fourth person grinned and beckoned Ampie to join her. Her, he noted.
She was in her twenties, dressed in a dark green military uniform, and had what appeared to have at least begun as blonde-red hair. It was streaked with long vivid bands of glowing neon-pink. The sort that needed a skilled hairdresser to maintain. Ampie wondered where the dye came from. No hair in Nature was that colour.
"Wish he'd say I'm an especially loved grand-daughter." she said, conversationally. "Not that I begrudge Bekki."
She held out a hand. "Johanna Smith-Rhodes-Maaijande. I was in Raven House, by the way."
Ampie took it.
"I've heard about you." he said, with respect. She preened, modestly.
"Looks like I'll be hearing about you." she said. "Let's see. Doesn't play fifteen-a-side, considers that's a sport for people who sit on their brains, prefers crockett. Gifted musician, wants to sit out his national service as a military musician, plays anything made of metal that you can blow down..."
Ampie must have looked surprised.
"Look." the woman said, kindly. "I do talk to Auntie Johanna now and again. She filled me in."
Ampie took in the rank badges of Major. And the medal ribbons. And the dark green uniform.
"Think they'll let you go to the School of Music at Trompensberg?" she asked. "Graduate Assassin?"
"That is what your aunt said." He replied. "Both your aunts, in fact."
Young Johanna smiled. She invited him to consider the patch on her arm. It was a stylised version of a striking eagle swooping on prey. The motto PAMWE CHETE was prominent underneath.
"You'll end up with us, boykie." she said. "Depend on it. If I know the Crowbar, he'll start a regimental band. Especially for you."
Ampie tried not to wince.
"So. What brings a major of the Slew to Ankh-Morpork?" he inquired.
Johanna shrugged.
"See the old school again. Old friends. Stay with Aunt Johanna. Oh, and a job interview. People think I deserve a while out of the front line. I'm in the running for a Military Attaché job at the Embassy. Ambassador wants to see me. So I'm here. On leave."
"Best you are, girl!" Barbarossa boomed. "I'm getting weary of saying this, but don't the young women in my family realise we worry about you? Care about you? And your grandmother thinks it's high time you settled down with a man, but I'm staying out of that one! At least, till you bring him to me, that is."
"Ouma also thinks I hould get the un-natural muck out of my hair." Johanna remarked. She ran a finger down one of the pink streaks. "But you know, this is my image. The Red Death is already taken. I'm gunning for The Pink Death. What do you think?"
"I am wondering why you are not, forgive me, with the other women." Ampie said. "Not that I think you should be, but..."
Johanna laughed.
"Me? In there? Watching my uncle's wife squeeze out a child? Blood and screams and squick? Not me. Or maybe, not those sort of blood and screams, anyway!"
"You are not natural, meisie." her grandfather grunted.
"Never claimed to be, oupa. And anyway you've already seen it in two of my aunts, so you cannot say you have not seen it before!"
The following two hours passed by. It was Bekki who came to the waiting room. Danie's head tilted up, expectantly.
"Hope you've got some good names for a son, Uncle Danie." she said, laconically.
"Mattewis..." her uncle said. "Heids likes the sound of that."
The Kraal of the Lioness, the Zulu Empire:
Candidates for the ranks of the Lioness Impi awaited their turn at the recruitment desk. Unheeded among a dozen or so others, the lighter-skinned coloured woman sat, biding her time. The moment to strike would come soon. She was here. Where the mission would be completed, the task set by the Theocrat... she waited. Looking for the woman she was here to kill. The Theocrat had ordered her death.
To be continued...
1 Yup. Discworld's Belgium.
2 Still means cat. But in the Donald Trump sense of the word "Pussy". This trips up Dutch and Belgian visitors to South Africa, apparently, who in all innocence might tell their hostess she has a lovely pussy.. Yes, indeed.
The Notes Dump:
The place where ideas and concepts go to stay fresh in the fridge whilst awaiting the audition call.
PM to reader Brithund:
Thank you!
All will be revealed about Bekki's graduation piece. Its nature could be deduced from liberal hints elsewhere in the text. I'm looking for a scenario where all three daughters generate major headaches for their parents - literally, in Famke's case - pretty much all at once. Also playing with the idea of Music with Rocks In making a re-appearance on the Disc via an older Ruth and wondering how this will work out without too many people being damaged. Without really intending to, I've now got a keyboards player, a bass player... and a drummer. This sort of emerged with all three sisters settling into the stereotypes of the serious-minded and retiring bass player, the tech-minded slightly nerdy keyboards person - and Keith Moon. All it needs is a guitarist and a lead singer. in other stories I've established HEX as having a quirk for Roundworld rock music - " a computer who can hum like Pink Floyd". Ruth sees HEX as a resource for Roundworld music - a kind of youTube/iTunes. Ruth may well become acquainted with musical sibling sisters on Roundworld - I see HEX stirring things by asking if she would like to hear the music of Ann and Nancy Wilson, perhaps. Oh, and the awful warning which is The Shaggs. Or was.
The problem isn't so much generating ideas to go into this story - it's what to leave out. Or it'll go on for ever. I know where I want it to go: Bekki graduates as a Witch and takes her skills to Howondaland, initially as a guest of Aunt Mariella and Uncle Horst, then moves onto the border country with her grandparents, strays over the border into the Zulu Empire (witches go everywhere if they are needed, and screw politics), where she is detained - well, red-haired, a Smith-Rhodes, and in the Empire. Ruth N'Kweze gets her out of trouble and organises a stay of execution, but this causes an international crisis...
That's the core of the tale. But so many side-directions have emerged, like Bekki's two sisters, who are both interesting characters in their own right and worth developing. Where do Famke and Ruth go... this could be a long one. Don't go too far away for a couple of years...