Terry Pratchett - Lords and Ladies

N ow read on

When does it start?

There are very few starts. Oh, some things seem to be beginnings. The curtain goes up, the first pawn moves, the first shot is firedbut thats not the start. The play, the game, the war is just a little window on a ribbon of events that may extend back thousands of years. The point is, theres always something before. Its always a case of Now Read On.

Much human ingenuity has gone into finding the ultimate Before.

The current state of knowledge can be summarized thus:

In the beginning, there was nothing, which exploded.

Other theories about the ultimate start involve gods creating the universe out of the ribs, entrails, and testicles of their father. There are quite a lot of these. They are interesting, not for what they tell you about cosmology, but for what they say about people. Hey, kids, which part do you think they made your town out of?

But this story starts on the Discworld, which travels through space on the back of four giant elephants which stand on the shell of an enormous turtle and is not made of any bits of anyones bodies.

But when to begin?

Thousands of years ago? When a great hot cascade of stones came screaming out of the sky, gouged a hole out of Copperhead Mountain, and flattened the forest for ten miles around?

The dwarfs dug them up, because they were made of a kind of iron, and dwarfs, contrary to general opinion, love iron more than gold. Its just that although theres more iron than gold its harder to sing songs about. Dwarfs love iron.

And thats what the stones contained. The love of iron. Alove so strong that it drew all iron things to itself. The three dwarfs who found the first of the rocks only got free by struggling out of their chain-mail trousers.

Many worlds are iron, at the core. But the Discworld is as coreless as a pancake.

On the Disc, if you enchant a needle it will point to the Hub, where the magical field is strongest. Its simple.

Elsewhere, on worlds designed with less imagination, the needle turns because of the love of iron.

At the time, the dwarfs and the humans had a very pressing need for the love of iron.

And now, spool time forward for thousands of years to a point fifty years or more before the ever-moving now, to a hillside and a young woman, running. Not running away from something, exactly, or precisely running toward anything, but running just fast enough to keep ahead of a young man although, of course, not so far ahead that hell give up. Out from the trees and into the rushy valley where, on a slight rise in the ground, are the stones.

Theyre about man-height, and barely thicker than a fat man.

And somehow they dont seem worth it. If theres a stone circle you mustnt go near, the imagination suggests, then there should be big brooding trilithons and ancient altar stones screaming with the dark memory of blood-soaked sacrifice. Not these dull stubby lumps.

It will turn out that she was running a bit too fast this time, and in fact the young man in laughing pursuit will get lost and fed up and will eventually wander off back to the town alone. She does not, at this point, know this, but stands absentmindedly adjusting the flowers twined in her hair. Its been that kind of afternoon.

She knows about the stones. No one ever gets told about the stones. And no one is ever told not to go there, because those who refrain from talking about the stones also know how powerful is the attraction of prohibition. Its just that going to the stones is notwhat we do. Especially if were nice girls.

But what we have here is not a nice girl, as generally understood. For one thing, shes not beautiful. Theres a certain set to the jaw and arch to the nose that might, with a following wind and in the right light, be called handsome by a good-natured liar. Also, theres a certain glint in her eye generally possessed by those people who have found that they are more intelligent than most people around them but who havent yet learned that one of the most intelligent things they can do is prevent said people ever finding this out. Along with the nose, this gives her a piercing expression which is extremely disconcerting. Its not a face you can talk to. Open your mouth and youre suddenly the focus of a penetrating stare which declares: what youre about to say had better be interesting.

Now the eight little stones on their little hill are being subjected to the same penetrating gaze.

Hmm.

And then she approaches, cautiously. Its not the caution of a rabbit about to run. Its closer to the way a hunter moves.

She puts her hands on her hips, such as they are.

Theres a skylark in the hot summer sky. Apart from that, theres no sound. Down in the little valley, and higher in the hills, grasshoppers are sizzling and bees are buzzing and the grass is alive with micro-noise. But its always quiet around the stones.

Im here, she says. Show me.

A figure of a dark-haired woman in a red dress appears inside the circle. The circle is wide enough to throw a stone across, but somehow the figure manages to approach from a great distance.

Other people would have run away. But the girl doesnt, and the woman in the circle is immediately interested.

So youre real, then.

Of course. What is your name, girl?

Esmerelda.

And what do you want?

I dont want anything.

Everyone wants something. Otherwise, why are you here?

I just wanted to find out if you was real.

To you, certainlyyou have good sight.

The girl nods. You could bounce rocks off her pride.

And now you have learned this, said the woman in the circle, what is it that you really want?

Nothing.

Really? Last week you went all the way up to the mountains above Copperhead to talk to the trolls. What did you want from them?

The girl put her head on one side.

How do you know I did that?

Its at the top of your mind, girl. Anyone could see it. Anyone with good sight.

I shall be able to do that one day, said the girl smugly.

Who knows? Possibly. What did you want from the trolls?

Iwanted to talk to them. Dyou know they think time goes backward? Because you can see the past, they say, and

The woman in the circle laughed.

But they are like the stupid dwarfs! All they are interested in is pebbles. There is nothing of interest in pebbles.

The girl gives a kind of one-shoulder uni-shrug, as if indicating that pebbles may be full of quiet interest.

Why cant you come out from between the stones?

There was a distinct impression that this was the wrong question to have asked. The woman carefully ignored it.

I can help you find far more than pebbles, she said.

You cant come out of the circle, can you?

Let me give you what you want.

I can go anywhere, but youre stuck in the circle, said the girl.

Can you go anywhere?

When I am a witch I shall be able to go anywhere.

But youll never be a witch.

What?

They say you wont listen. They say you cant keep your temper. They say you have no discipline.

The girl tossed her hair. Oh, you know that too, do you? Well, they would say that, wouldnt they? But I mean to be a witch whatever they say. You can find things out for yourself. You dont have to listen to a lot of daft old ladies whove never had a life. And, circle lady, I shall be the best witch there has ever been.

With my help, I believe you may, said the woman in the circle. Your young man is looking for you, I think, she added mildly.