Terry Pratchett - The Wee Free Men

A small foot kicked Tiffany on the boot. 'We'd be best be moving on, mistress,' said Rob Anybody. He had a dead Feegle over his shoulder. Quite a few of the others were carrying bodies, too. 'Er... are you going to bury them?' said Tiffany. 'Aye, they dinnae need these ol' bodies noo an' it's no' tidy to leave 'em lyin' aboot,' said Rob Anybody. 'Besides, if the bigjobs find little wee skulls and bones aroound they'll start to wonder, and we don't want anyone pokin' aboot. Savin' your presence, mistress,' he added.

'No, that's very, er... practical thinking,' said Tiffany, giving up. The Feegle pointed to a distant mound with a thicket of thorn trees growing on it. A lot of the mounds had thickets on them. The trees took advantage of the deeper soil. It was said to be unlucky to cut them down.

'It's nae very far noo,' he said.

'You live in one of the mounds?' Tiffany asked. 'I thought they were, you know, the graves of ancient chieftains?'

'Ach, aye, there's some of dead kingie in the chamber next door but he's nae trouble,' said Rob. 'Dinnae fret, there's nae skelingtons or any such in oour bit. It's quite roomy, we've done it up a treat.'

Tiffany looked up at the endless blue sky over the endlessly green downland. It was all so peaceful again, a world away from headless men and big savage dogs.

What if I hadn't taken Wentworth down to the river? she thought. What would I be doing now? Getting on with the cheese, I suppose...

I never knew about all this. I never knew I lived in heaven, even if it's only heaven to a clan of little blue men. I didn't know about people who flew on buzzards.

I never killed monsters before.

'Where do they come from?' she said. 'What's the name of the place the monsters come from?'

'Ach, ye prob'ly ken the place well,' said Rob Anybody. As they grew nearer the mound, Tiffany thought she could smell smoke in the air.

'Do I?' she said.

'Aye. But it's a no' a name I'll say in open air. It's a name to be whispered in a safe place. I'll not say it under this sky.'

It was too big to be a rabbit hole and badgers didn't live up here, but the entrance to the mound was tucked amongst the thorn roots and no one would have thought it was anything but the home of some kind of an animal.

Tiffany was slim, but even so she had to take off her apron and crawl on her stomach under the thorns to reach it. And it still needed several Feegles to push her through.

At least it didn't smell bad and, once you were through the hole, it opened up a lot. Really, the entrance was just a disguise. Underneath, the space was the size of quite a large room, open in the centre but with Feegle-sized galleries around the walls from floor to ceiling. They were crowded with pictsies of all sizes, washing clothes, arguing, sewing and, here and there, fighting, and doing everything as loudly as possible. Some had hair and beards tinged with white. Much younger ones, only a few inches tall, were running around with no clothes on, and yelling at one another at the tops of their little voices. After a couple of years of helping to bring up Wentworth, Tiffany knew what that was all about.

There were no girls, though. No Wee Free Women.

No... there was one.

The squabbling, bustling crowds parted to let her through. She came up to Tiffany's ankle. She was prettier than the male Feegles, although the world was full of things prettier than, say, Daft Wullie. But, like them, she had red hair and an expression of determination.

She curtsied, then said, 'Are ye the bigjob hag, mistress?'

Tiffany looked around. She was the only person in the cavern who was over seven inches tall.

'Er, yes,' she said. 'Er... more or less. Yes.'

'I am Fion. The kelda says to tell you the wee boy will come to nae harm yet.'

'She's found him?' said Tiffany quickly. 'Where is he?'

'Nae, nae, but the kelda knows the way of the Quin. She didnae want you to fash yersel' on that score.'

'But she stole him!'

'Aye. 'Tis comp-li-cat-ed. Rest a wee while. The kelda will see you presently. She is... not strong now.'

Fion turned round with a swirl of skirts, strode back across the chalk floor as if she was a queen herself, and disappeared behind a large round stone that leaned against the far wall.

Tiffany, without looking down, carefully lifted the toad out of her pocket and held it close to her lips. 'Am I fashing myself?' she whispered.

'No, not really,' said the toad.

'You would tell me if I was, wouldn't you?' said Tiffany urgently. 'It'd be terrible if everyone could see I was fashing and I didn't know.'

'You haven't a clue what it means, have you... ?' said the toad.

'Not exactly, no.'

'She just doesn't want you to get upset, that's all.'

'Yes, I thought it was probably something like that,' lied Tiffany. 'Can you sit on my shoulder? I think I might need some help here.'

The ranks of the Nac Mac Feegle were watching her with interest, but at the moment it appeared that she had nothing to do but hurry up and wait. She sat down carefully, drumming her fingers on her knees.

'Whut d'ye think of the wee place, eh?' said a voice from below. 'It's great, yeah?'

She looked down. Rob Anybody Feegle and a few of the pictsies she'd already met were lurking there, watching her nervously.

'Very... cosy,' said Tiffany, because that was better than saying 'How sooty' or 'How delightfully noisy'. She added: 'Do you cook for all of you on that little fire?'

The big space in the centre held a small fire, under a hole in the roof which let the smoke get lost in the bushes above and in return brought in a little extra light.

'Aye, mistress,' said Rob Anybody.

'The small stuff, bunnies an' that,' added Daft Wullie. The big stuff we roasts in the chalk pi— mmph mmph...'

'Sorry, what was that?' said Tiffany.

'What?' said Rob Anybody innocently, his hand firmly over the mouth of the struggling Wullie.

'What was Wullie saying about roasting "big stuff"?' Tiffany demanded. 'You roast "big stuff in the chalk pit? Is this the kind of big stuff that goes "baa"? Because that's the only big stuff you'll find in these hills!'

She kneeled down on the grimy floor and brought her face to within an inch of Rob Anybody's face, which was grinning madly and sweating.

'Is it?'

'Ach... ah... weel... in a manner o' speakin'

'It is?'

' ' Tis not thine, mistress!' shrieked Rob Anybody. 'We ne'er took an Aching ship wi'out the leave o' Granny!'

'Granny Aching let you have sheep?'

'Aye, she did, did, did that! As p-payment!'

'Payment? For what?'

'No Aching ship ever got caught by wolves!' Rob Anybody gabbled. 'No foxes took an Aching lamb, right? Nor no lamb e'er had its een pecked out by corbies, not wi' Hamish up in the sky!'

Tiffany looked sideways at the toad.

'Crows,' said the toad. 'They sometimes peck out the eyes of—'

'Yes, yes, I know what they do,' said Tiffany. She calmed down a little. 'Oh. I see. You kept away the crows and wolves and foxes for Granny, yes?'

'Aye, mistress! No' just kept 'em awa', neither!' said Rob Anybody triumphantly. 'There's good eatin' on a wolf.'

'Aye, they kebabs up a treat, but they're no' as good as a ship, tho... mmph mmph...' Wullie managed, before a hand was clamped over his mouth again.

'From a hag ye only tak' what ye's given,' said Rob Anybody, holding his struggling brother firmly. 'Since she's gone, though, weel... we tak' the odd old ewe that would've deid anywa', but ne'er one wi' the Aching mark, on my honour.'

'On your honour as a drunken rowdy thief?' said Tiffany.

Rob Anybody beamed. 'Aye!' he said. 'An' I got a lot of good big reputation to protect there! That's the truth o' it, mistress. We keeps an eye on the ships of the hills, in mem'ry o' Granny Aching, an' in return we tak' what is hardly worth a thing.'