'I think he thinks that isn't what people want. He's very conscious of the needs of today's citizen.'
'Ah, well, I can see where there's a problem, then,' said Nanny. 'People need something today but they generally need something else tomorrow. Just tell him to concentrate on bellowing and carousing.'
'And belching?'
'That's optional.'
'And...'
'Yes, dear?'
'He'll be all right, will he?'
'Oh, yes. Nothing's going to happen to him. It's like that chess stuff, see? Let the Queen do the fightin', 'cos if you lose the King you've lost everything.'
'And us?'
'Oh, we're always all right. You remember that. We happen to other people.'
A lot of people were happening to King Verence. He lay in a sort of warm, empty daze, and every time he opened his eyes it was to see scores of the Feegle watching him in the firelight. He overheard snatches of conversation or, more correctly, argument.
'... he's oor kingie noo?'
'Aye, sortaley.'
'That pish of a hobyah?'
'Hushagob! Wman's sicken, can y'no yard?'
'Aye, mucken! Born sicky, imhoe!'
Verence felt a small yet powerful kick on his foot.
'See you, kingie? A'ye a lang stick o'midlin or wha', bigjobs?'
'Yes, well done,' he mumbled.
The interrogating Feegle spat near his ear.
'Ach, I wouldna' gi'ye skeppens for him-'
There was a sudden silence, a real rarity in any space containing at least one Feegle. Verence swivelled his eyes sideways.
Big Aggie had emerged from the smoke.
Now that he could see her clearly, the dumpy creature looked like a squat version of Nanny Ogg. And there was something about the eyes. Verence was technically an absolute ruler and would continue to be so provided he didn't make the mistake of repeatedly asking Lancrastians to do anything they didn't want to do. He was aware that the commander-in-chief of his armed forces was more inclined to take orders from his mum than his king.
Whereas Big Aggie didn't even have to say anything. Everyone just watched her, and then went and got things done.
Big Aggie's man appeared at her side.
'Ye'll be wantin' to save yer ladie and yer bairn, Big Aggie's thinkin',' he said.
Verence nodded. He didn't feel strong enough to do anything else.
'But ye'll still be verra crassick from loss o' blud, Big Aggie reckons. The heelins put something in their bite that makes ye biddable.'
Verence agreed absolutely. Anything anyone said was all right by him.