Discworld 06 Wyrd Sisters by Terry Pratchett

Author:Terry Pratchett [Pratchett, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf_humor
Published: 2011-02-09T23:44:08.042000+00:00

The duke smiled out over the forest.

'It works,' he said. 'The people mutter against the witches. How do you do it, Fool?'

'Jokes, nuncle. And gossip. People are halfway ready to believe it anyway. Everyone respects the witches. The point is that no-one actually likes them very much.'

Friday afternoon, he thought. I'll have to get some flowers. And my best suit, the one with the silver bells. Oh gosh.

'This is very pleasing. If it goes on like this, Fool, you shall have a knighthood.'

This was no.302, and the Fool knew better than to let a feed line go hungry. 'Marry, nuncle,' he said wearily, ignoring the spasm of pain that crawled across the duke's face, 'if n I had a Knighthood (Night Hood), why, it would keep my ears Warm in Bedde; i'faith, if many a Knight is a Fool, why, should a—'

'Yes, yes, all right,' snapped Lord Felmet. In fact he was feeling much better already. His porridge hadn't been oversalted this evening, and there was a decently empty feel about the castle. There were no more voices on the cusp of hearing.

He sat down on the throne. It felt really comfortable for the first time . . .

The duchess sat beside him, her chin on her hand, watching the Fool intently. This bothered him. He thought he knew where he stood with the duke, it was just a matter of hanging on until his madness curved back to the cheerful stage, but the duchess genuinely frightened him.

'It seems that words are extremely powerful,' she said.

'Indeed, lady.'

'You must have made a lengthy study.'

The Fool nodded. The power of words had sustained him through the hell of the Guild. Wizards and witches used words as if they were tools to get things done, but the Fool reckoned that words were things in their own right.

'Words can change the world,' he said.

Her eyes narrowed.

'So you have said before. I remain unconvinced. Strong men change the world,' she said. 'Strong men and their deeds. Words are just like marzipan on a cake. Of course you think words are important. You are weak, you have nothing else.'

'Your ladyship is wrong.'

The duchess's fat hand drummed impatiently on the arm of her throne.

'You had better,' she said, 'be able to substantiate that comment.'

'Lady, the duke wishes to chop down the forests, is this not so?'

'The trees talk about me,' whispered Lord Felmet. 'I hear them whisper when I go riding. They tell lies about me!'

The duchess and the Fool exchanged glances.

'But,' the Fool continued, 'this policy has met with fanatical opposition.'

'What?'

'People don't like it.'

The duchess exploded. 'What does that matter?' she roared. 'We rule! They will do what we say or they will be pitilessly executed!'

The Fool bobbed and capered and waved his hands in a conciliatory fashion.

'But, my love, we will run out of people,' murmured the duke.

'No need, no need!' said the Fool desperately. 'You don't have to do that at all! What you do is, you—' he paused for a moment, his lips

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