Chapter the Ninth, in Which the Adventure is Reflected Upon.
This will be the concluding chapter for now though it has brought up some new ideas that might be worth exploring. I may do that here or I may do so in new stories. I hope everyone reading this had a happy Hogswatch, and are now looking forward to Soul Cake Tuesday. I know the link of the latter with Easter is debatable, but conflating the Soul Cake Duck and the Easter Bunny was beyond my ability to resist.
Blind Io was pondering the events of a very strange day, even by the standards of Dunmanifestin.
Had he really followed the suggestion of that Von Lipwig fellow ? Yes he had. And the thought of Hoki up to his furry thighs in fatbergs (1) and other muck as he worked to clear drains made him chuckle.
He'd had a quiet word with the Postmaster General about each letter being as a prayer unto Fedecks, who hadn't been seen lately.
'I hope you can bring him back from this situation, the Fall of the Post Office hit him hard. You are his avatar in the mortal world after all. You might want to see Mr Groat about it, too.'
He noted that Moist Von Lipwig had seemed to be in a distracted frame of mind, but put it down to the known confusing effects of the presence of divinities on human consciousness. (2) He'd also passed on some advice about prayer and meditation but couldn't be sure it had sunk in.
In another part of the Divine City, Offler was regretting losing a bet with Anoia. She'd wagered that Von Lipwig would teach Hoki a lesson and been right. Now Offler had to encourage his priests to install altar drawers to keep the sacramental frying pans in. (3) He was uneasy about the potential for another deity to draw the attention of worshippers in his temples, but a bet was a bet. (4) Now it was time to turn in and wait for things to get comfortably warm again. The downside of being a crocodile god was the quasi – reptilian metabolism.
Anoia was contemplating both her win with Offler and the disturbing situation when she had felt Mrs Von Lipwig Und Dearheart's consciousness inside her mind right here in Dunmanifestin. It didn't help that Anoia had once been more powerful as Leela the Volcano Goddess, then lost believers and much power in, of all things, a seismic cataclysm. (5) She had tried all kinds of paths back to the Pantheon, and hadn't always been that powerful an entity, leading to gaps in her memory. (6) And the woman was her avatar in the mortal world. Or was there something deeper at work ?
In the mortal world, having assured himself of the welfare of his dogs, returned to his house, slipped into carpet slippers, an old linen shirt and a pair of well worn lederhosen, Bastian Von Lipwig settled into his favourite armchair and lit his pipe.
You had to hand it to the Gods, they could be thorough. His boys were back in their runs and didn't appear to be unsettled by the experiences of the day. It also looked like Blind Io had provided each one with a fresh marrow bone.
Dogs are not big on philosophical thought. Especially in the presence of a fresh juicy bone.
It had been good to mend some bridges with Moist, and he'd regretted the need for everyone to go their separate ways for now. He'd have to find some more forceful way of getting through an invitation to his grandson for a holiday up here. And he would really like to meet the woman who seemed to have tamed Moist's wild streak. She had to be something very special indeed.
Mistress Hexe was a relatively young witch, with modern ideas. At some point she would like to see the big city, if only to be sure that the vocation she had for her steading in and around the town of Lipwig was a firm one. Perhaps she could talk to Herr Von Lipwig about it, his grandson being such an important man in Ankh - Morpork.
It was odd, but even so soon after meeting Moist Von Lipwig, she could only remember the golden uniform, but not anything else about his appearance.
Of the Twilight the Darkness was glad to have been of service to Missus Boss. That young postman had been somewhat nonplussed by his taking the note and almost immediately producing a pot full of a potion he proceeded to take straight to the apartment.
'I don't know how he does it either lad,' Mr Groat had said. (7)
Roley Eminence was a much happier junior postman now that he'd accomplished his mission without falling into anything unsalubrious, or having anything unpleasant done to him, returned the velo to the pigeon – haunted undercroft without falling over or being messed on and took a meal break for a crispy bacon sandwich and a big mug of coffee. Not the posh Brindisian kind that came in a cup the size of a thimble. Proper Post Office coffee you could tar roads with, containing what would be a diabetes – inducing amount of sugar for anyone who wasn't a postie. (8) He now had a chance to consider what to do with that generous tip...
Mr Groat was delighted to have the Postmaster General returned to the Royal Mail. He remembered the years of the Interregnum all too well, being the only Believer of the Faith left keeping the letter – haunted Temple of Fedecks barely functioning through the decades. (9) Any of the Postmaster's absences from the city unsettled him, despite his own impressive skills in keeping the mail moving. Some day soon there was a subject he was going to have to raise with Mr Von Lipwig, and he would need to choose his time and words carefully. The boss had needed to be pulled off him by Mr Pump after a surprise revelation once before. (10) He didn't want Moist Von Lipwig going postal again on being made privy to Tolliver Groat's knowledge.
Adora Belle Von Lipwig Und Dearheart was glad to have her husband back in one piece. She had been careful to instruct her PA to be sparing with the dose of potion given to Moist. There weren't any terrorists hiding in the bushes to dismember this time. (11) He had been reasonably lucid, but very tired, being able to tell the story, but not showing any of the potion's more personal side effects. She had deemed it wisest to let him sleep off the effects of his adventure while she contemplated her own actions in the near future. Consulting with Miss Extremelia Mume at the Temple of Anoia would probably be a good start.
As he began to drift into the sleep of the totally worn out, Moist reflected it had been a good day. He'd bested a rather disreputable god and re - established contact on good terms with Grandfather Bastian. Something was puzzling him though.
What had Blind Io meant when he'd said 'You must find Fedecks within yourself ?'
(1)Accumulated mass of fat in a sewer. You really wouldn't want more detail than this.
(2)It wouldn't have occurred to him to consider the Splot/Goblin Coffee interaction. Gods, eh.
(3)For Offler's relationship with fried sausages, see Sir Terry's Going Postal.
(4)Anoia's forfeit would have been to quit smoking. She was that confident of Moist winning.
(5)An earthquake. But bigger.
(6)Check out Om's problems in Sir Terry's Small Gods.
(7)Moist was right about him having access to strange paths through the world. We saw it.
(8)This really was a fair description of Post Office catering once. Seen it.
(9)It seems reasonable to assume that the Post Office is, or is on the site of, a Fedecksian temple.
(10)See Sir Terry's Going Postal.
(11)See Sir Terry's Raising Steam for what happens when moist (justifiably) goes postal.