The leader grinned at Granny, who hadn't moved a muscle.
'Your peasant magic is for fools, mother of the night. I can strike you down where you stand.'
'Then strike, man,' said Granny, looking over his shoulder. 'If your heart tells you, strike as hard as you dare.'
The man raised his sword. Lightning speared down again and split a stone a few yards away, filling the air with smoke and the stink of burnt silicon.
'Missed,' he said smugly, and Granny saw his muscles tense as he prepared to bring the sword down.
A look of extreme puzzlement crossed his face. He tilted his head sideways and opened his mouth, as if trying to come to terms with a new idea. His sword dropped out of his hand and landed point downwards in the peat. Then he gave a sigh and folded up, very gently, collapsing in a heap at Granny's feet.
She gave him a gentle prod with her toe. 'Perhaps you weren't aware of what I was aiming at,' she whispered. 'Mother of the night, indeed!'
The soldier who had tried to restrain the man stared in horror at the bloody dagger in his hand, and backed away.
'I-I-I couldn't let. He shouldn't of. It's – it's not right to,' he stuttered.
'Are you from around these parts, young man?' said Granny.
He dropped to his knees. 'Mad Wolf, ma'am,' he said. He stared back at the fallen captain. 'They'll kill me now!' he wailed.
'But you did what you thought was right,' said Granny.
'I didn't become a soldier for this. Not to go round killing people.'
'Exactly right. If I was you, I'd become a sailor,' said Granny thoughtfully. 'Yes, a nautical career. I should start as soon as possible. Now, in fact. Run off, man. Run off to sea where there are no tracks. You will have a long and successful life, I promise.' She looked thoughtful for a moment, and added, 'At least, longer than it's likely to be if you hang around here.'
He pulled himself upward, gave her a look compounded of gratitude and awe, and ran off into the mist.
'And now perhaps someone will tell us what this is all about?' said Granny, turning to the third man.
To where the third man had been.
There was the distant drumming of hooves on the turf, and then silence.
Nanny Ogg hobbled forward.
'I could catch him,' she said. 'What do you think?'
Granny shook her head. She sat down on a rock and looked at the child in her arms. It was a boy, no more than two years old, and quite naked under the blanket. She rocked him vaguely and stared at nothing.
Nanny Ogg examined the two corpses with the air of one for whom laying-out holds no fears.
'Perhaps they were bandits,' said Magrat tremulously.
Nanny shook her head.
'A strange thing,' she said. 'They both wear this same badge. Two bears on a black and gold shield. Anyone know what that means?'
t what? Dying?'
NO, I SUPPOSE NOT. IT WOULD BE TOO MUCH TO EXPECT, said Death sourly. THEY LEAVE IT ALL TO ME.
'Who do?' said Verence, mystified.
FATE. DESTINY. ALL THE REST OF THEM. Death laid a hand on the king's shoulder. THE FACT IS, I'M AFRAID, YOU'RE DUE TO BECOME A GHOST.
'Oh.' He looked down at his . . . body, which seemed solid enough. Then someone walked through him.