(Return to) The Discworld Tarot

The Minor Arcana

Gods know what I'm taking on here as there are fifty-six cards in the Minor Arcana, the familiar sequence of Ace-to-Ten, then Princess (Page or Jack) Prince (Knight), Queen and King. The parents of the familiar deck of playing cards, each family of court cards is slimmed down to King, Queen and Jack, and the only survivor of the Major Arcana is the Fool, who lives on as the Jester/Joker.

In no particular order, I shall tackle them as the Muse takes me – I can always re-order them afterwards - and I know it's going to be a long slog!

The Four of Swords: This card denotes a need for retreat, seclusion, to find a safe place among trusted people. It can be viewed as the Two of Swords doubled: several people are forced together by circumstances and a shared burden, or just something in common, perhaps something that sets them apart from their peers. At least they are among people who know...

Mariella Smith-Rhodes looked up at the bedroom ceiling thoughtfully. A semi-expertly assembled model of the Kite, Ankh-Morpork's first and so far only spacecraft, hung by one length of string from the rafter as if in a permanent nose-dive. An iconograph of the fashion model Jools was pinned to one wall, near the bed. Nearby to it was a squad iconograph of the Nap Hill Cowpunchers foot-the-ball team, and a roughly assembled ladder showing the current standings of teams in the Ankh-Morpork First Division. Each team was on an tabbed index card and could be moved up and down the slotted ladder as fortunes permitted.(1)

A shelf of books carried approved Guild textbooks, most of which had been issued along with orders to get them wrapped in protective covers derived from wallpaper offcuts, thick brown parcel paper, or the new-fangled sticky-backed plasticated paper.(2) Mariella recognised the Concordat, Healstether's Dangerous Flora of Überwald, and Nutt's Intermediate Game Theory, as well as Wilson's Political and Physical Geography of the Disc.

She sipped her lemonade thoughtfully. Being in a boy's bedroom was new to her. In the past few months, she had got used to the big draughty first-year dorm in Black Widow House, shared with twenty-seven other girls. She suspected it had been designed to be as cold and draughty as possible, and this had been torture to her Howondalandian upbringing. She could not remember ever having been this cold for this long... but Madame Two-Swords had understood the need. Mariella, and girls from Fourecks and Klatch, had been issued unofficial extra blankets. Her reasoning was that "these girls are from all year-round warm countries. Ma foi, it is not fair to expose you to winter in this city all in one go. Besides, I have no intention of losing any of you to pleurisy, pneumonia and debilitating diseases of the cold. You are here to be taught, not tortured!"

Other girls in the dorm had griped at the perceived favouritism. Mariella winced. It was one of the reasons why she was here, in an upper bedroom on Spa Lane that had a faint reek of feet and old sock to it. She sensed a mother could only do so much with a teenage boy.

Martin Bellamy leaned back on his bed. He was a few years older than Mariella, and a native of Ankh-Morpork. Because of this he was a day pupil, who could return to his family home at the end of the School day.

"I'm glad we're all here." he said. "I believe we've all got something in common that we need to talk about."

Rupert Mericet, fourteen, long, thin and spare, grinned a quiet rueful grin.

"Yes. We do." he agreed. "I'm glad I'm not the only one!"

Timothy Bellamy, much the same age as Mariella, had been invited into his older brother's room on sufferance. Good natured and mousy blond, he grinned infectiously. He was also a day pupil at the Guild school. Maggie Band, thirteen and slightly more worldly-wise, from Scorpion House, completed the group. She was curled up on the other end of the bed, catwise, looking irritatingly much older and sophisticated than Mariella. Two years age difference is a lifetime when you are eleven.

Martin grinned.

"As your host tonight, may I call this first meeting of the Related-To-Teachers-Society to order and say we are now officially convened? Thank you."

"First point on the agenda: we need a snappier name." Rupert said, drily. "Something that makes a good acronym."

Rupert Mericet was both liked and respected for his sense of humour. Against expectation, he actually had a sense of humour. Sometimes when he was provoked it could tip into mordant killing sarcasm – well, it ran in the family – but normally he was a cheerfully pleasant youth. He excelled in Morporkian language and literature, and assisted in editing the School newsletter, the Cloak and Dagger. He also very carefully and pointedly tried not to be too good at Alchemy and Poisoning.

"The army calls its kids in married quarters Barracks-Rats." Maggie Band offered. "We could be the Filigree Street Rats?"

"Good. Like it." said Martin.

"The Guild Rats." mused Rupert. "Yes. It's got a ring to it. Related to Academics, Teachers, and Staff."

"Relatives of Academics, Teachers, Staff." suggested Maggie. "I wonder if we can get that past them as an authorised Guild School club?"

"The Rats!" said Martin. "Everyone in favour? Say "aye!"

"Aye!"

"I'll try and get a few lines in the next C&D." said Rupert. "The problem is, they're censoring it now, after those jokes about the Dark Council slipped past in the last issue. You know, Lord Downey having to look over his shoulder, to see what Mrs Mericet might be slipping in the tea."

Rupert shuddered. "And there's another turtle to be tied to. (3) Not only do they think I'm his long-lost son, they make out she's going to be my stepmother. Ugggh."

"But he is only a distant cousin of your father?" Mariella said, breaking her silence. "Why do people insist you are his son?"

"Because it makes a better story, that's why." Rupert sighed. Other students found the idea of a wider Mericet family to be bizarrely outlandish. The idea of the austere Mr Mericet having siblings was incredible. Surely, thought the pupils, having seen what sort of monster they'd produced, the Mericet parents would have chosen never to have another? And it was true Mericet was the only survivor of his line of the family – people sometimes speculated on this, but never for very long. Rupert Mericet was at best a second or third cousin. But it didn't stop them gossiping about a closer relationship.

Maggie Band scowled.

"What about me?" she said. "Everybody thinks I'm related to her! I mean, we share the same family name, but that's about it. And we've all heard the rumours about miss Band, why she isn't married and doesn't have a boyfriend."

"I hev not." Mariella said. "Whet are the rumours?"

Maggie sighed.

"Look, kid, you're only eleven..." she said.

"Oh, I know!" Tim Bellamy said, brightly. "She's an embankment, right? A holder-back-of-water..."

"And you're only twelve, too." Martin said, hastily.

"Yes, but I heard Mum talking to Dad one night..."

"Can it, Tim." Martin said. "Now."

Maggie smiled reassuringly at Mariella.

"Talk to your big sister. I would if I were you." she said, kindly.

"Ja." Mariella said, doubtfully. She was acutely aware of her Howondalandian accent and how it must sound to these older, cooler, people. She remained surprised that she had been accepted into this group. But Tim had asked her if she'd like to come along, and Martin and Rupert had approved it.

"Thet is, yes. But she tells me little ebout whet is said in the steffroom. Sometimes I wonder if she is testing me. I know she is en old friend of Miss Ellice Bend. It makes it difficult when the other girls esk whet she hes said to me, es if they think my sister takes me into her confidences. But if I tell them things I believe Johanna would prefer kept between us, I em breaking her trust. Life becomes difficult."

"Tell me about it." Martin said. "Some of the other women teachers come here to see Mum. Sometimes our kitchen's like another staffroom! I think the ones who live in, like Auntie Emmie...Madame Two-Swords... like to relax in a place that isn't the School. And she's best friends with Mrs Mericet."

"How does that work out?" Rupert asked. Tim giggled.

"You should have been here last Saturday night! Miss Smith-Rhodes came round to talk about the Animal Management Unit, but she brought a bottle of something called wittblitts with her."

"Wijtblits." Mariella automatically corrected him. "White lightning. A treditional drink of our people. My father goes strange efter a few glesses. Mother takes the bottle from him efter a while, end she hides it."

"Mum and Miss Smith-Rhodes went very strange! Dad gave up when Mrs Mericet and Miss Lansbury turned up. He made us go to bed early and said anything we overheard was not to be repeated at school. But I bet you could have heard them laughing from Water Street!"

I wondered why Johanna was a little bit stroeppy on Sunday, Mariella thought.

"My sister is Miss Smith-Rhodes to me ell week." Mariella said. "If I em in her clesses, there is no favouritism. I believe she is a little harder with me to communicate this to the other pupils. But they still believe I em favoured in some way. Then et the weekend, she is my official next-of-kin end guardian. Then she is Johanna to me. She signs me out on day leave, end we go out together end we do sister-things together. This I eppreciate. But other pupils see this end do not understend. Like the time Madame Emmanuelle was considerate enough to ensure pupils from hot countries got extra blenkets. Without them, this first winter would hev been much harsher. But she said to me, to be prepared for a little discord."

Mariella winced.

"Pemela Eorle made noise. She wes unpleasant. She demanded how a redneck peasant girl like me could get such a favour, if she wes not related to a teacher. She tried to take the extra blenkets from me. I became engry. There wes unpleasentness."

Maggie Band nodded.

"Yes. We all saw Pamela Eorle's face afterwards! You've got the family temper, alright!"

"Ja. Medame Emmanuelle dealt with the situation. Enother girl, Christina Omnius, tried to take the extra blenkets given to Rivka bin-Divorah. She looks like a quiet, shy, girl, but she is a Cenotine, from Kletch. I would not choose a fight with a Cenotine. Some people are fools end are enti-Cenotic, is this the right word? Christina made fun of Rivka's religion end her special diet needs. A mistake, I think. But Medame called us to her office and spoke sternly. Efterwards, she edvised me not to bloody somebody's nose so obviously, end to direct my blows to places where they will not be seen. Johanna said es much the next weekend, end showed me where to hit somebody to bring them down quickly. End now Pemela is claiming that I was treated leniently, because of my relationship to a teacher."

"No-o." Rupert said, thoughtfully. "I'd say it's because Madame Two-Swords doesn't want all the bother and paperwork of formal discipline. That's why she deals with things privately. Besides, she was in the same graduation class as your sister. Miss Smith-Rhodes is your next of kin and it makes things easier if they talk together about the best way to handle you."

He paused, and added, kindly,

"Look, there have got to be some benefits!"

There was a general consensus sigh. The biscuits and lemonade that Tim and Martin's mum had thoughtfully provided went into circulation again.

"I'm surprised your mother let us meet here." Maggie said. "I mean, not just in your house, but in your bedroom and things."

"Ah, Mum's okay." Martin said. "She thinks it's good for boarders and day pupils to make friends outside school hours. So boarders get to see there's real life outside the Guild. Besides, I bet she knows every word we've been speaking. Not that she's standing in the next room with a glass pressed against the ceiling, or anything."

"She doesn't need to!" Tim Bellamy said, through a mouthful of sweet biscuits. "She's mum!"

"But we still have to call her Doctor Bellamy at school." Martin reminded him.

"I got it wrong once. Everybody laughed." Tim complained.

"Well, you won't get it wrong again, will you?" Martin said, callously. "Good lesson!"

In the kitchen, Doctor Davinia Bellamy paused in marking a stack of exercise books. Her husband Peter thoughtfully poured three more coffees.

"It's getting late." he said, non-comitally. He felt a little uneasy at the idea of Martin having a pretty girl of around his own age up in his bedroom with him. But there were three other students up there too, one being Martin's younger brother...who invited that serious-looking red haired girl, he remembered.

Davinia ignored this.

"Ruth, did you mark Tim's homework for me? Thanks. I'll just look it over and see how he's getting on..."

Ruth N'Kweze was a teaching assistant who was learning how to handle classes, specifically in botany, natural sciences and biology. She accepted her coffee with thanks, and said

"Nothing to worry about, Vinnie. Above-average, but not so much as to get an A. I graded him B+ and pointed out a few things he can improve on."

Even though Tim and Martin attended their mother's classes, Davinia thought it prudent to have somebody else mark their work. It countered any accusations of favouritism. She also had their end-of-term exam papers externally marked, for the same reason.

"What are they doing up there?" Peter asked. "They're very quiet."

Davinia smiled. Motherhood had given her a lot of transferable skills useful in handling Guild school pupils.

"They're sounding off about being related to their teachers, of course! They've got to vent somewhere, Peter!"

"It must be hard for them." Ruth remarked. "I was always aware Canon Clement is my half-brother. Even when taking his Religious Education classes, I had to keep telling people that we're from quite a big family and he is so much older than me, and I doubted if he even remembered my name!"

"That's why they need the space." Davinia said. "It's good for the ones who board, too, to spend time with a family. Johanna needed reassuring that her sister wasn't getting homesick and she was settling in."

"And of course Emmanuelle suggested that it would be good if it becomes generally known that Margaret Band spent time with a good-looking male day pupil in his bedroom." Ruth said, with the ghost of a smile. "She thinks that sort of rumour should kill all the insinuations other girls make about Margaret. That being called Band automatically means you aren't interested in boys."

Peter Bellamy winced. Ruth patted his hand.

"They don't need to know it's all rather sweet and innocent, do they?" she said, practically. "And you can hint that you chased them out with a sweeping broom, Vinnie! Which keeps it decent, gives Martin a little reputation, and prevents people thinking you encourage improper contact. Everyone benefits!"

"Speaking of which." Davinia said. "Our three guests need to be back at the Guild in their dorms before lights-out. Emmie said she'll understand if Mariella's a little late for first-year curfew. But the other two are older. If I call a cab, can you escort, Ruth?"

"Of course." Ruth said. "And I thank you for your hospitality. I live in too, so it's nice to see normal family life once in a while!"

(1) Because some things are universal to the bedrooms of teenage boys everywhere in the Multiverse.

(2) Because some things are universal to schools everywhere in the multiverse. The chore of wrapping your books in protective outer covers is one of those things imposed by your teachers as they hand the books out. Nobody quite knows why, as quite often the books are hopelessly graffiti'd, torn and dog-eared to begin with. The general idea is that it keeps the kids out of trouble and their hands busy, which is no bad thing.

(3) On Roundworld, we talk about another cross to bear. Omnianism gave the disc a parellel idiom.