The Shepherd's Crown (Discworld #41)(63)

‘Well, what we witches have found is that power is best left at home. Magic is tricky anyway, and it can turn and twist and get things wrong. But if you surround yourself with other humans you will have what we call friends – people who like you, and people you like.’

‘Friends.’ Nightshade rolled the word, and the idea, around in her head and then asked, ‘Am I your friend?’

‘Yes,’ said Tiffany. ‘You could be.’ She looked at the people passing by and said to Nightshade, ‘Look, try this. There’s an old woman trying to carry a very heavy basket up the hill. Go and help her, will you, and see what happens.’

The elf looked horrified. ‘What do I say to her?’

‘You say, “Can I help you, mistress?”’

Nightshade gulped, but she crossed the road and spoke to the old woman, and Tiffany listened and heard the old woman saying, ‘What a kind girl you are, thank you very much. Bless you for helping an old lady.’

To Tiffany’s surprise, Nightshade carried the basket not only over the hill but also along the next stretch of the road, and she heard her ask, ‘How do you live, lady?’

The old lady sighed. ‘Little by little. My husband died years ago, but I am good with the needle and so I make things. I don’t need charity. I get along and I have still got my home. As we say, worse things happen at sea . . .’

As Nightshade watched the woman go away, she said to Tiffany, ‘Can you give me some money, please?’

‘Well,’ said Tiffany, ‘witches seldom have money about their person – we don’t live in that kind of world.’

Nightshade brightened up. ‘I can help then,’ she said. ‘I’m an elf and I am sure I could get into a place where the money is.’

‘Please do not try that,’ said Tiffany. ‘There would be a lot of trouble.’

She ignored a grumble from the side of the road, ‘Nae if you don’t get caught.’

‘We is guid at gettin’ intae places, ye ken,’ another Feegle muttered.fn6

Nightshade paid the Feegles no heed. She was still puzzling. ‘That old woman had absolutely nothing, but she was still cheerful. What did she have to be cheerful about?’

‘Being alive,’ said Tiffany. ‘What you are seeing, Nightshade, is someone making the best of things, which is something else humans do. And sometimes the best of it is good.’ She paused. ‘How did it make you feel?’ she asked. ‘Carrying that basket.’

Nightshade looked puzzled. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said slowly. ‘But I’m not sure I felt like an elf should . . . is that a good thing?’

‘Look,’ Tiffany said, ‘the wizards tell us that in the very, very olden days, humans were more like monkeys, and being a monkey was a very clever thing to be as monkeys like to see into everything. And then the monkeys realized that if one monkey tried to kill a large wolf, he would soon be a dead monkey, but if two monkeys could get together they would be very happy monkeys, and happy monkeys create more happy monkeys so they would have lots of monkeys, which chatter and gibber and talk all the time until, in the end, they became us. So too could an elf change.’

‘When I get my kingdom back . . .’ Nightshade began.

‘Stop there,’ said Tiffany. ‘Why do you want your kingdom back? What good has it done you? Think about it, for I am the human who has looked after you, the only person you might call a friend.’ She looked seriously at the elf. ‘I have told you that I – we – would be happy if you were to be Queen of the Elves again, but only if you can truly learn from your time here. Be prepared to live in peace, teach your elves that the world has changed and that there is no space for them here.’

There was hope in her voice now, a hope that human and elf might be able to change the stories of humans and elves.

A princess doesn’t have to be blonde and blue-eyed and have a shoe size smaller than her age, she thought.

People can trust witches, and not fear the old woman in the woods, the poor old woman whose only crime was to have no teeth and to talk to herself.

And perhaps an elf could learn to know mercy, to discover humanity . . .

‘If you learn things,’ she finished softly, ‘you might find yourself building a different kind of kingdom.’

fn1 Nanny’s friend on that occasion had been Count Casanunda the lowwayman – a highwayman who carried a stepladder on his horse, on account of his being a dwarf, and was most gallant towards the ladies he encountered.

fn2 A thought that she would most certainly grow out of, assuming she survived long enough.

fn3 It has in fact been said that elves are like cats; but cats will work together – for instance, when sharing a kill – while elves squabble and fight so that a third party may go home with the food.

fn4 It looked a rather poisonous green before it was heated up, but in most cases the end certainly justified the greens.

fn5 It disappeared pretty quickly too, as anyone given fairy gold soon discovered. Usually by the morning, which often meant a lively evening in the pub. And an even livelier evening the following night if visiting the same establishment.

fn6 Very true, though getting out again was sometimes trickier, especially if there was strong drink about.

CHAPTER 16

Mr Sideways

THE OLD BOYS in the villages around Granny Weatherwax’s cottage had swiftly taken a liking to Geoffrey. They respected Nanny Ogg and Tiffany, of course, but they really liked Geoffrey.