Carpe Jugulum (Discworld 23) - Page 243

'He does work very hard. And he worries about

everything. But people just seem to ignore him.'

Nanny wondered how to approach it.

'He could try having the crown taken in a bit,' she ventured, as the coach bounced over another rut. 'There's plenty of dwarfs up at Copperhead'd be glad to make it smaller for him.'

'It is the traditional crown, Nanny.'

'Yes, but if it wasn't for his ears it'd be a collar on the poor man,' said Nanny. 'He could try bellowing a bit more, too.'

'Oh, he couldn't do that, he hates shouting!'

'That's a shame. People like to see a bit of bellowing in a king. The odd belch is always popular, too. Even a bit of carousing'd help, if he could manage it. You know, quaffing and such.'

'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.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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