The Shepherd's Crown

The stick gleamed. It shone. It looked almost alive, and the bristles were sleek. It was almost Granny Weatherwax’s old stick, if you discounted the new shell for the staff and new bristles.fn5 Tiffany and Geoffrey stared at it in amazement while the two dwarfs looked on, smiling.

 

‘It’s the best we ever made – I mean, mended,’ Shrucker added. ‘But please, use it gently and keep it oiled. Nothing but the best for Mistress Aching.’ He straightened up proudly, a dwarf who could stand tall to his full four foot once again.

 

Mrs Proust ran her fingers against the stick and nodded. ‘This is an excellent stick,’ she said. ‘Look, it’s even got a little cup to hold your drink.’

 

Shrucker gave her a funny look. ‘And special today, for our good customers,’ he said instead, ‘those who don’t bring . . . trouble’ – with a sideways glance at Tiffany – ‘we have a bonus little gift.’ He proudly presented Geoffrey with two furry white cubes covered in assorted spots. ‘You can tie them on the strap,’ he said. ‘Very popular with the lads for their carriages, these. Some lads also keep birds in a little cage to sing as they go along. They call it in-carriage entertainment.’

 

Geoffrey shuddered at the thought. A bird, in a cage? His heart felt sorrow for them. But the broomstick, well, he could barely wait to have a go on it.

 

Dave sniffed and said, ‘There you go, young man. So, do you want to give it a test drive then?’ He handed him the stick, and said, ‘Go on. Go to the end of the arches and give it a whirl.’

 

Tiffany was about to speak, but already Geoffrey was sparkling with excitement. She looked at his glowing eyes and said, ‘Well, all right, Geoffrey. You’ve been on my stick with me, and watched the broomsticks going past overhead. Go up slowly, just a bit at a time.’

 

She might as well have talked to the wall. Geoffrey straddled his broomstick, ran past the neighbouring arch, jumped – and went skywards very fast. A series of nightmares flashed through Tiffany’s mind. There was a distant boom! Then a little dot in the sky got bigger, and there was Geoffrey, coming back down, grinning from ear to ear.

 

Tiffany almost squealed. ‘Look, Mrs Proust. He’s picked it up already. It took me ages to learn how to fly.’

 

‘But of course,’ said Mrs Proust. ‘That’s this here technology.’

 

And Shrucker said, ‘Wow! He’s a natural. Not even the goblins can do that.’ For Geoffrey had just looped the loop, then got off his stick, leaving it hovering a few feet above the cobbles.

 

‘How did you do that?’ asked Tiffany, genuinely impressed.

 

‘I don’t know,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Just a knack, I suppose.’

 

And Tiffany thought: When Geoffrey’s not anxious, he radiates calmness, which probably means he sees more things and finds more things than other people do. It makes him open to new things too. Yes, it’s a knack all right.

 

Waving a goodbye to the dwarfs and Mrs Proust, Tiffany and Geoffrey took off together and floated back towards Lancre and the distant mountains, Geoffrey getting the feel of his stick immediately and disappearing into the sky ahead of Tiffany.

 

She caught him up just outside the outskirts of Ankh-Morpork – he was soaring and swooping at a ferocious speed. ‘You do know your trousers are smouldering, don’t you?’ she said with a laugh.

 

Geoffrey patted the smoke away with a sudden anxiety that made the stick wobble, saying, ‘Please don’t tell Nanny about this when we get back! She’ll laugh at me!’

 

But after they had travelled back to Lancre – quite a bit faster than on the outward journey – and before she set off back to the Chalk, Tiffany did of course tell Nanny Ogg. And the older witch did indeed laugh.

 

‘It was amazing, though,’ Tiffany said. ‘Flying seemed so natural to him.’

 

‘Ha!’ said Nanny. ‘Every man has a broomstick in the house, but they just don’t often know how to use ’em!’

 

fn1 The Feegles had, in fact, accidentally set fire to Tiffany’s broomstick, creating a need for new bristles.

 

fn2 There are some advantages to wearing layers needing double figures to count. Dwarfs like lots of layers of chainmail, jackets and – of course – the traditional woolly vest which actually makes the chainmail unnecessary.

 

fn3 ‘River’ as a term doesn’t quite describe the sludge of the river Ankh in its course through the city, though it is of course a decent torrent up in Lancre.

 

fn4 Uberwald servants, usually working as doctors, or assistants to mad scientists, who believe a stitch in time saves a lot of bother later. They like to swap body parts from an early age, often within the same family, such that an Igor saying ‘He’s got his uncle’s nose’ really means something.

 

fn5 So a new stick, really. As new as the famous nine-hundred-year-old family mining axe owned by the King of the Dwarfs was anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 12

 

 

An Elf among the Feegles

 

 

THERE WAS THUNDER and there was lightning. It was raining and there was water everywhere, running down the chalk hills.