Strandpiel 56

Briewe na die huis – letters to Home

In which Johanna Smith-Rhodes catches up with Family

V1.1, minor tweaks

Ideas:-

As always: during the working week, lots and lots and lots of inspiration particles about Things That Might Happen Next and how they could fit into the general plot.

Hoping to wrap up Book One of Strandpiel with at most one more chapter, having set up lots of threads to pick up in Book Two….

Aan: Mevrou Agnetha Smith-Rhodes 'n Menheer Andreas Smith-Rhodes,

Onverwachtplaas,

Piemberg,

Die Republiek van die Transvaal,

Strandwaarts Hovondalaand/Rimwards Howondaland

Liewe Ouers,

Life is, as always, never short of interest here in Ankh-Morpork. My own working week at the School and at the Zoo remains active and fulfilling, and the everyday life of my family (if it can ever be called everyday!) occupies practically all of my remaining time. Not, I think, that I would ever have it any other way.

Rebecka remains glad and pleased that you extended your stay in the Central Continent for long enough to be present at her "graduation" as a Witch. I am glad you really enjoyed your day in Lancre and the celebration party in the evening before your departure for Home afterwards. It is true that Rebecka's intention is to travel to the Turnwise Caarp before the end of the year, to accept the invitation Mariella kindly extended to her to try out life in her Other Country. Not every Witch who graduates will formally take up a Steading, which can be thought of as a plaas where the Witch is undeniably the Mevrou within her own domain. Just as not every graduated Assassin will become active in our Profession. Some Witches, such as the impressive Agnes Nitt, will subsume their energies into a different Profession and bring the magic and the outlook of a Witch to that occupation. Thus we see Magrat, Queen of Lancre, who you encountered. It may be argued that her Steading is a whole country. Sophie Rawlinson, who I agree is an impressive and striking young woman, is likely, eventually, to develop into a horse-doctor whose skills, I suspect, will outpace those of Doctor Folsom. With such skills, I believe Sophie will not settle in any one place, but will travel to wherever horses are to be found, as she is needed – which given she now has a Pegasus, will be everywhere.

Irena and Olga, who are dear friends to our Family, devote the single-minded intensity and passion of a Witch to matters of flight. I suspect their status in the Air Police and Pegasus Service is for them a means to an end, to gather like-minded Witches to them as a squadron of women dedicated to flight and to vastly enhancing the technomancy making flight possible, in the hands of a suitably inclined magic-user. From the outside, their Steading seems to be the airbase on the roof of Pseudopolis Yard!

Which leads us back to Rebecka.

Before she travels to Howondaland, Bekki has a commitment to meet here and discharge fully. The price to pay for being chosen by a Pegasus is to serve in the Pegasus Service. My daughter is, therefore, undergoing the unavoidable period of training and induction onto the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, which all Pegasus Service fliers must inevitably undergo. I enclose iconographs of her passing-out from recruit training, and of her receiving her Watch badge from Sir Samuel Vimes. You will be proud of her. She has been allocated Watch badge number 230, which Mr Vimes assures me has not passed through all that many previous owners before becoming my daughter's. Mr Vimes also reminded me – again – that he has not reallocated my own Watch badge as he says there is always a place for me, his first Assassin Special. I am tempted to accept. As you know, I retired from the Watch just after Bekki's birth, wishing to devote myself more to Family. Mr Vimes accepted this and Lady Sybil said it was a wise decision, at least while the children were little. (I note she said "children" in the plural, even though at the time there was only one!)

Now that they are older, I am wondering about offering myself for Watch service again, perhaps twice a month. It gets under your skin, and as the children grow older and I have more time…

Bekki has, in the course of her duty, had to perform street patrols and routine police work. Mr Vimes insists every person employed by the Watch does this, even Pegasus pilots who most of the time will be elsewhere, or else performing duties with the regular Air Police. Most of the time in this City, if you see a Witch on a broomstick, she will be an Air Policewoman. They are easy to distinguish, as they wear Watch uniforms and their broomsticks are subtly different. They are even equipped with sirens now - Ponder's department developed the technomancy – and many criminals have given themselves up without fight on being pursued by an Air Witch with a screaming siren blaring.

However, Bekki is learning elementary policing from the ground up, which involves street patrols, mainly on foot. I worry about her, but this is inevitable. She has been allowed to patrol with the Mounted Watch, however, a fairly new development involving Watchmen on conventional horses without wings, who are used for fast response at street level and for crowd control duties at big events. As she and Sophie can both ride, they were deployed here on Saturday afternoon.

Wobbley Stadium, New Ankh. On a Saturday afternoon in November.

The line of mounted Watchmen sat their horses and simply Watched. The stream of foot-the-ball fans heading to the ground, loud, noisy, in the team colours of Dimwell FC, who were playing the Queen's Park Arrangers. So far it was good-natured noisy. The role of the Watch here was to keep the two sets of fans strictly apart, herding the Dimwell fans to one side of the stadium whilst the QP ARR fans were directed to the other side. They would also be kept segregated inside. Dimwell fans had a Reputation which they were proud of.

Nobody loves us – and we don't care!

It was part of the Dimmers' thing, their war-cry, their reputation as the self-proclaimed hardest and toughest fans out. Fans of other sides were minded to challenge this. Hence the police presence at their games and the need to segregate. It had been discovered that a line of disciplined Watchmen on big horses simply advancing in line could clear a street very effectively: the standing orders in the event of conflict were to ride in there and get between the two mobs of potentially warring fans. And for the Gods' sake, not to let yourself get suckered into leaving the wide boulevards and big streets and chasing into narrow alleys, where the advantage of being on a big horse backed up by other big horses would be lost. People on horses who did this tended to find themselves in bother, Mr Vimes had said, citing his own experience in the Lilac Revolution. And back then, Vimes had added, warming to his theme, mounted men on our streets enforcing order were doing it for the wrong reasons, in the wrong ways, for the wrong people. We will not be like them. Will we?

Probationary Air Policewoman Rebecka Smith-Rhodes watched the fans, as she had been instructed, searching the throng for Faces. Iconograph slides had been shown during the briefing and descriptions going with the Faces had been read out. She was also looking for attitudes that suggested people likely to cause and incite trouble. Ringleaders, with immediate access to a ring.

Bekki looked up; at least two Watch brooms were up there, circling and Watching. Aerial observation. She sighed. That would be the next step: Air Police training, on a conventional broom for justnow. But at least four hooves were a step up from two feet. And she'd got a good horse. That was a consideration.

She scanned the passing throng of fans – so many of them, and so few of us – and recognised Davey O'Hennigan, Shauna's brother. He glanced over at the line of Watchmen, seeing only the Filth on horseback.(1) Bekki let him pass on. Davey was alright, but today they were on opposite sides. Besides, he didn't have a record and wasn't a Face.

She wondered why she was starting to think like a Watchwoman, and supposed it was induced by the uniform. At least she had Sophie on her right, and on her immediate left, Sergeant Denson, who was in charge. He was keeping the two probationaries nearby to him. Bekki supposed he'd been briefed to keep the new girls under observation, partly because they were new, and mainly because they were destined for the Pegasus Service and were Assets to the City. Only seventeen women on the whole Disc could ride a Pegasus. Losing one on routine police work, she supposed, was to be avoided.

Denson was alright: he'd survived twenty-five years in a Venturi cavalry regiment and had volunteered for the Watch on leaving the Army, as he said, partly to stay in a horse-based job and mainly for the novelty of having a commanding officer who was actually competent. Sam Vimes had snapped him up for the Mounted Police straight away.

And just as Bekki was beginning to think this was just going to be routine, the trouble started…

There was an Incident at a foot-the-ball game where the Watch was performing crowd control duties.

This was the eleven-a-side code, by the way. At fifteen-a-side and in the new thirteen-a-side codes of foot-and-hand-the-ball, the violence largely occurs on the field, as Danie well knows. The spectators at a fifteen-a-side game are generally well behaved, there is no need to separate the fans (although people will group themselves with others of the same Nationality, so separation occurs naturally), and violence between supporters is rare. Therefore a Watch presence at fifteen-a-side games in minimal. The eleven-a-side code appears to be otherwise and generates strong tribal loyalties based on, ultimately, which street and district of the city the spectators live in.

Unrest and violence between fans happens at virtually every game and the Watch therefore has a hard job. An episode of unrest happened at the game policed by Rebecka and Sophie, where the Watch were targeted by a Firm of the Dimwell fans. A Firm is a term for a gang of Faces, apparently. These Faces tried to lure the mounted police presence into a fight, and one of them made the grave error of scattering caltrops in front of the police horses. A caltrop is a device designed specifically to injure a horse. Unfortunately for the scatterer, mounted police have Firm Views on these things and one of the policewomen present was Sophie Rawlinson. Who has even firmer views on those who would deliberately seek to injure horses.

I am told the sight of one of the most violent street gangs in the City running in panic from a single Watchwoman whose berserk button had just been pressed – well, it was memorable. Sophie had Rebecka riding alongside her, and batons were indeed drawn. Rebecka said she had a job to persuade Sophie to use minimal force in concluding the Arrest, and I believe her. The gentleman detained with a pocket full of caltrops will go into Watch detention when the Lady Sybil Free Hospital assesses him as fit for discharge, I believe. A second offender who tried to assault Bekki will have her bootmark on his chest for quite some time to come. I am proud: I taught her that strategy for dealing with somebody who attempts to un-horse you. Rebecka is a gentle soul who would shy at unprovoked attack on another, but she has no qualms about effective self-defence when attacked. I have taught her about effective self-defence.

Mr Vimes is proud of his two new recruits, but reminded Sophie that he prefers magic-users in the Watch to refrain from using magic when on duty (unless he knows in advance, and has approved it). Sophie's use of a spell to vaporise the caltrops in order to make the street safe for horses might have endangered innocent bystanders, he pointed out, had there actually been any innocent bystanders present to be inconvenienced. But he understands that when a Witch gets seriously angry, it tends to vent as magic. The trick, he said, for a Watchman, is to control the anger and use it effectively. I teach much the same to my own students.

Now what do I say about my other two daughters?

Famke's education at the Guild School proceeds. She is fortunate in that there is a teacher, who she respects and admires, who has seen her potential and is personally mentoring her. This makes many things much easier. Famke's attitude to School rules and regulations is much improved. Not because of threat or force or compulsion – I can see how she would respond to that. She is conforming of her own free will, because Miss Ethylene Glynnie has said she expects this from Famke and would be disappointed if there are any further major infractions. And because Famke so looks up to her mentor, she is conscientiously trying to give satisfaction. In return, Evvie Glynnie is providing additional tuition in subject areas Famke would not normally encounter until the fifth year of Study, the first year of the Black. Famke is aware this advanced tuition is conditional on good behaviour, and is therefore Being Good, insofar as she is capable.

General opinion in the staffroom is that we all have much to thank Miss Glynnie for, as she has found The Key.

And yes, Mother, I do remember our discussion about Famke, when you mildly (for you) remarked on a strong self-willed daughter who continually pushes the boundaries to see what she can get away with, who drives her mother to distraction, and who had to be sent away to a boarding school to tame her. You shook your head and said "Well, I can't see where or who she gets that streak from, Johanna, can you?"

I suppose I asked for that, Mother.

Famke, in the extraordinary circumstance in which she boards at a School a couple of miles across the City from her family home, is allowed Home on Wednesdays, after Sports Afternoon, for an evening meal here and family time. I encourage her to bring schoolfriends who may then join our family for dinner. She is also allowed to visit here on Saturdays if she is so minded, after School lessons in the morning and completion of her Prep. Miss Glynnie, her Housemistress, is accepting of this and permits overnight stays on the usual agreed basis. Famke then attends Kerk with the family the next day, where Heidi and I are obliged to ensure attendance by those of our students who are from Rimwards Howondaland. Kerk attendance, as you emphasise, is important and ensures habits of worship and deference not only to our Gods but to the customs and traditions of our Homeland. And yes, my whole family attend. It is important that Rebecka, Famke and Ruth grow up as Gods-fearing young meisies who are Boers as much as they are Morporkians.

Rebecka is in a unique position at Kerk.

Our Kerk holds to the position that Witches are an abomination in the eyes of the Gods. Pastor van Niedermaaier is perfectly aware of Bekki's training and occupation and I believe he would exclude her from attendance if he could. Sometimes I wonder if she is considering provoking a confrontation of this sort, so as to get her Octeday mornings free. (I have said to her to put up with it, for now, as she is a Boer, a Citizen, and has to be seen to be attending Kerk, as any irregularity might lead to her being deported from Howondaland before she has even arrived there).

But this Kerk is in Ankh-Morpork. Which has no laws against witches. And Witches tend to go where they like, just to make the point that they can go where they like. Besides, she is a Smith-Rhodes and that name confers a certain level of privilege. Van Neidermaaier knows this. He contents himself to the occasional barbed reference from the pulpit. Bekki sits in our family pew and glares back. A battle of wills is happening, I think.

Famke is aware she has to be suitably deferential, like the other pupils, but I suspect she has no time for van Neidermaaier. So far she has not misbehaved in Kerk. She tends to sit with the group of pupils from School, where I have primed sensible people like Mina Steenhuis and Luci van Tonder to keep an eye on her. There is, of course, Ampie duPris, a young man I have a lot of time for and who you personally approve of as a suitable young man to escort Rebecka. (Father: Ampie genuinely is a decent and a good-natured young man. I suspect you think this too, but you have to keep up the outward show, for justnow, of being the stern and watchful grandfather who isn't entirely convinced the young man's motives are good.) I like him and see no issues concerning his friendship with Rebecka. She could have chosen far worse. I fear when Famke's time comes, she will pick somebody entirely unsuitable purely for the devilment of it, and because she has the kind of personality that would relish selecting a Bad Boy, just to shock her parents. Besides, Bad Boys have an attraction to them. You will of course recall Hans Dreyer? I find it amusing to hear of his life since and the directions it took. And that, in a roundabout sort of way, he is coming closer to our extended family again. Trust Suki!

As for Ruth… well, her time will come, in its time. I do find myself wondering about her. But it is a long way in her future yet. Let me write about Ruth.

Spa Lane, Ankh-Morpork, November

Ponder Stibbons frowned. It was a worried frown. It was a frown he had had several decades to perfect, ever since he had become first a student Wizard, then a graduate, and then a member of the University Faculty. It was the frown he frowned whenever one of the Faculty had an absorbing idea of the sort that made Ponder's nerves jangle with a foreboding of trouble to come.

And he found himself frowning it at his youngest daughter.

Ruth was curled up in a chair reading. It was a default position for her, when she was not making music, creating art or just experimenting with things to see what happened and how things worked.

It was this last that worried Ponder. Experimenting with things to see what happened and how things worked was one of the character traits that pretty much defined a Wizard. He had this character trait in abundance. Johanna had it too. She applied it to things like Exothermic Alchemy and its practical applications in service of the Guild of Assassins. Wizards – especially the sort of Wizard who Ponder dealt with every day in the Faculty – also had a tendency to make things explode, in lots of literal and metaphorical ways. Unlike Johanna, their lack of common sense and basic self-preservation skills was legendary.

Ponder had survived into his forties because he had learnt early to take sensible precautions and evolve safety protocols. Where Johanna was concerned, her explosions were usually perfectly safe – for her. The Guild regarded her as its go-to person if an explosion needed to be gift-wrapped and delivered to a client, as part of a bespoke and perfectly tailored exclusive service. This actively required the Assassin doing the delivery to remain intact and undamaged afterwards, so as to claim the professional fee.

Ponder was worried that both kinds of inquisitive and exploring mind – the Wizard and the Assassin – had coalesced in their daughter. And that she might let her inquiring mind outstrip her sense of precaution and self-preservation.

And right now, he wasn't comforted to see that one of a stack of books she was reading, technical manuals in the main garnered from various libraries, was a biography of the artisan called Jeremy Clockson, who had vanished in mysterious circumstances a decade or two previously. Ponder knew enough to be aware that Clockson had not been the most mentally stable of people. He also had an idea of what had happened in the confused period leading up to Clockson's disappearance. He had dealt with some of the fall-out. (2)

"Sweetheart?" he said, cautiously. "You're finding that book very interesting?"

Ruth looked up and smiled, beatifically. Ponder felt this was unsettling: in moments like this she looked far older than nine. He reminded himself that this was universal with young girls. If you were a father or somebody like an uncle who spent lots of time around little girls, there were going to be those fleeting but timeless moments where, just for an instant, you glimpsed a far older woman looking out from a seven or eight or ten or eleven year old face. You got a brief vision of the adult woman the child would become.(3) Rebecka had been like this. Famke, too. He recalled he'd also seen it in the younger Mariella Smith-Rhodes, a girl he and Johanna had had parental responsibilities to in her time in Ankh-Morpork. This is normal, he reminded himself.

"It is, Daddy." Ruth said. "I'm learning ever so much. But I still have to stop and look up some of the long words in the dictionary. And some of the special words aren't even in the dictionary, because they're special. Technical."

Ponder nodded. He made the mental leap to the partially dismantled mechanisms on the work-table in her room. Ruth was like that: she methodically took things apart to see how they worked. Lots of children did that. But after a couple of tries, Ruth could usually put them back together afterwards. She had clamoured for special tools, in the way little girls of her age might pester for dollies or toys. Ponder could usually find them at the university or the Thaumatalogical Park, and the house-goblins were useful too. Her mother had provided a few things acquired at the Guild. (4) Quite often a goblin or two could be seen in Ruth's room, either just watching in fascination, or actively helping. The fact Ruth had lately been asking people if they had any old clocks they could spare was worrying him. One neighbour had cheerfully provided an old clock, saying it had never worked right, so if Ruth could fix it, he'd be delighted, and if she couldn't, well, no harm done, as it was broken anyway.

Ruth had dismantled it with the aid of a goblin and – Ponder winced – the imps she had adopted. Then painstakingly cleaned and rebuilt it, taking her guidance from a technical manual on clocks and from sketches she had made, delivering it back to the neighbour, and shyly saying "I think you'll find it works now."

The neighbour had said, in bewilderment

"Ponder, it works better, if anything. That little girl of yours is a genius."

Ponder was watching his girl genius.

Right now she was looking expectantly at her father. He cleared his throat.

"So. Ruth. What have you learnt from reading about Mr Clockson?"

"Well, daddy. I've learnt never to build a glass clock. I'm sure I could. But I think it would be the last thing I'd ever do, as there'd be no time to do anything else. Including switching it off again."

Ponder relaxed. He then listened to his daughter, who was asking difficult questions about the nature of Time and how you measured it and what it was for. She was asking intelligent questions. He didn't even hear those from his students. He appreciated she had started wondering about time and clocks whilst watching a metronome tick, counting the tempo as she played a keyboard. He also heard why she had developed a sudden interest in clocks and time. And learning the reason, he relaxed and said "That's a really thoughtful idea, sweetheart. Bekki is going to really appreciate that, if you get it right."

They had discussed the idea, and Ponder had been intrigued. Such a simple idea, he thought. Why has nobody thought of this before? And then he realised nobody had really needed to think of it before, till now. And every brilliant idea had to start somewhere, in a brilliant mind…

And it diverted her away from The Other Thing, which really worried him. She had asked to go back to the imp hatchery, and if she could select a couple more imps to help her with an idea she'd had, please, please, please, daddy?

And then he'd noticed the Guitar, the other sort of Guitar, that Mr Wheeldown the guitar maker had said she could have, as a thank you for the design work she'd done, people were starting to buy those bass guitars we're making to your design, miss. Good luck to you if you can make that thing actually work as a guitar, but if you do, can we get to make and sell them? And your mum should know, too. She insisted.

Ponder winced. He was agonising about whether to interfere or not.

But for now, his daughter's mercurially inventive mind was occupied on the Relative Time Measurement Problem. Which she looked like cracking.

Ruth is currently interested in clocks. I am satisfied these are not dangerous mechanisms, and tinkering with them places her in no risk. I am thankful this is occupying her attention, as this is understandable. (Ponder says there is one sort of clock which is very dangerous, but Ruth has read about it and accepts that is seriously dangerous and she has no interest in going there, which reassures me.) Her education still poses problems, as she is vastly ahead of the other children in her class and in some respects is more advanced than many of my own senior pupils and even, Ponder has said, ahead of many of his university undergraduates. At the same time she is also a girl of nine, and I must not lose track of that. She still has her favourite dollies, for instance, and there are areas of human experience which she is ignorant of, and which I am happy for her not to be aware of until she is of an appropriate age. Agnes Nitt has said the most difficult years for a girl with a little magic, not as much magic as Bekki but enough to be significant, are yet to come. Agnes says Ruth will not be a conventional Witch, if there is such a thing, but will find her own Way. This is as yet unclear to us all.

Gillian Lansbury, Mrs Stitched-Lansbury now, is giving personal tuition in Art still, and Ruth has accompanied her to advanced Art classes which Gillian supervises. I remain thankful she is attracting the right teachers to herself.

And now, I must talk about a most serious matter which is of grave importance to you both and indeed to our whole family I cannot disclose my sources of information, even in a letter which will reach you by secure private courier – you never know who might intercept it – but this news reaches me from some very highly placed and very reliable channels of information.

Father.

In the coming months, you must step up your patrols along the border and along the River. I earnestly advise you to speak to trusted people in the Volkskommando and ensure all members are fit and trained for possible conflict. Do this discreetly, so as not to alarm people unduly. Step up the informal training given to young boys – and girls! – in settlements and isolated farmsteads in the region. Review the evacuation plans for non-combatants in the event of hostilities. My brother Andreas is stepping up and taking over more and more of the duties of the Veldkornet, while you remain Kommandant; he will need to prepare too. This may be his testing time.

The danger time, as we all know, is not immediate. It will come in several months' time, in the months of June and July, when the River runs low and may easily be forded. I earnestly advise you to watch the river crossings between Kuiperskop, Lekkersing, Puitonderswater and Tweebuffelsmeteenskootmorsdoodgeskietfontein(5). The Zulus have crossed there before in strength, and my information are that at least one raid in force is planned for this time by a warlord who lacks imagination and original thought and if he chooses to hit here, he will pick a spot where armies have crossed before.
This unoriginal warlord, however, still commands over three thousand spears. My information – and you must know the planned succession for the Empire - is that those dissident men who are unwilling to serve under a mere woman as Paramount Queen are trickling to his service. The Crown Prince Sinbothwe appears to be gathering force to himself, and hopes a successful raiding season against the ancestral foe will strengthen his case to seize the Paramount Throne from Princess Ruth following the death of their father. He is such a loyal brother indeed.

Watch for Sinbothwe's men scouting the river. Their impi distinctions are red and black head-dress feathers, with corresponding cords decorating the assegai staves, and red arm and ankle bands: their shields have alterbating black and white thong ties. If you see such men on the far bank, they will stand out from the local impi, who favour green and orange feathers and accessories.

My sources say the death of the old King is anticipated before June and the Prince plans to raid on hearing of his death, so as to weaken his sister before she has a chance to consolidate her position as Queen. We do not know as yet where he plans to raid. It could be anywhere from Smith-Rhodesia down to Natal. He would be a fool to attack on our stretch of the river as the regular garrisons of Fort Rapier and Lawkes' Drain are so close – but I am assured this Prince is a headstrong fool. And a dangerous one with thousands of spears at his command. I am also uncertain as to Princess Ruth's response to this threat, but based on my intimate knowledge of her – do not forget I taught her! – she will seek to prevent this. She needs to consolidate herself as Queen, and the last thing she will want is a major war with a neighbouring State, for one thing.

Hopefully there will be more information soon, and the person who is courier with this letter will be able to give you a further, private, verbal briefing. As she will no doubt say, politics is a pile of dirty stinking govno, but she has to roll her sleeves up and pitch into it with a spade if there is no alternative.

By now, Pieter van der Graaf and even Uncle Charles may informally be aware, and are worth raising this matter with. I worry that official involvement may hasten combat and make war more likely. This has the potential to escalate and consume us all – some of our warlords are as incapable of original thought as any Zulu induna, and in time of trial will revert to the tried formula of hitting Them before They hit us. But Uncle Pieter is sensible, as you know, and will think before he acts. And Uncle Charles will not take any course of action that diminishes his profits. Also, it occurs to me to speak to Cousin Julian, who is sensible and ever more well-connected in government circles?

Be vigilant, Father.

The name of our family plaas is, after all, Onverwacht. (6)

With love to you both

Your oldest daughter

Johanna.

I keep promising myself… one more short chapter and it's done – for now…

(1) The Air Watch were often referred to as The Flying Pigs, but after hard initial experience, not now where any Air Witch could hear it being said. In normal circumstances, Witches were disposed to come down hard on any disrespect. When the Witch was also Watch – this applied twice as hard. People tended not to do it twice and these days shied away from doing it once. Sam Vimes had been heard to remark that calling an Air Witch a flying pig, was at the very least Attempted Suicide. And Being Bloody Stupid With Malicious Intent.

(2) See "Thief of Time" and the inter-related novel "Night Watch" by Terry Pratchett.

(3) If you've seen this too, you will know. If you haven't – you will.

(4) the strictly non-lethal ones.

(5) This is a real place in South Africa and could be twinned with that place in Wales. It is too good not to put into my Discworld. The name means "Natural Spring Where Two Buffalos Were Shot Totally Dead with One Shot".

(6) Afrikaans: vigilance, watchfulness.

Notes Dump:

In an earlier chapter, I moved a whole Feegle clan from "Europe" – the Central Continent – to "Africa" – Howondaland. The first Feegle, or so I thought, to travel outside the Central Continent and find a permanent home elsewhere on the Disc. Emigrant Feegle going to a new world and becoming distinctly different from, but still related to, the Old Mother Country - as Afrikaaners are to Holland and (to a lesser extent) Belgium.

I wondered if this might be stretching it a little…

… and in the current Fortean Times (FT37, October 2018) , I discovered a tantalising short snippet in a review of a book on Polynesian peoples. That the Maori of New Zealand have a folk legend of a very tiny people living in burrows and mounds who have a short way with people they do not like. The Peti of New Zealand - indigenous Little People who have always been there and who a wise martial race like the Maori treat with respect, and ensure are placated with gifts of fermented beverages.

I mean.

Kiwi Feegle.

Foggy Islands Feegle. Native Feegle.

The idea pleases me. I am visualising short wide folk with very interesting tattoo patterns and designs. Who were the first to dance the haka before a battle. Who are indeed warlike, prone to strong drink and quick to anger. Whose slang will be Kiwi and distinctive. (memo – look up a New Zealand slang and swearing page, as of this I know little, as yet.)

Now what are Maori witches called, and would a Chalk or Lancre-trained Witch emigrating to a steading or a sheep-farm in the Foggy Islands encounter, possibly when investigating why sheep go missing, and seeking to put a stop to it…