Carpe Jugulum

out of his hand. Later on, of course, they just ate his hand.
    Yes. Catch it young and train it to the wrist. It’d have to be a champion hunting bird.
    Hodgesaargh couldn’t imagine a phoenix as quarry . For one thing, how could you cook it?
    …and in darkest corner of the mews, something hopped onto a perch…

Once again Agnes had to run to keep up as Nanny Ogg strode into the courtyard, elbows pumping furiously. The old lady marched up to a group of men standing around one of the barrels and grabbed two of them, spilling their drinks. Had it not been Nanny Ogg, this would have been a challenge equal to throwing down a glove or, in slightly less exalted circles, smashing a bottle on the edge of a bar.
    But the men looked sheepish and one or two of the others in the circle even scuffled their feet and made an attempt to hide their pints behind their backs.
    “Jason? Darren? You come along of me,” Nanny commanded. “We’re after vampires, right? Any sharp stakes around here?”
    “No, Mum,” said Jason, Lancre’s only blacksmith. Then he raised his hand. “But ten minutes ago the cook come out and said, did anyone want all these nibbly things that someone had mucked up with garlic and I et ’em, Mum.”
    Nanny sniffed, and then took a step back, fanning her hand in front of her face. “Yeah, that should do it all right,” she said. “If I give you the signal, you’re to burp hugely, understand?”
    “I don’t think it’ll work, Nanny,” said Agnes, as boldly as she dared.
    “I don’t see why, it’s nearly knocking me down.”
    “I told you, you won’t get close enough, even if it’ll work at all. Perdita could feel it. It’s like being drunk.”
    “I’ll be ready for ’em this time,” said Nanny. “I’ve learned a thing or two from Esme.”
    “Yes, but she’s—” Agnes was going to say “better at them than you,” but changed it to “not here…”
    “That’s as may be, but I’d rather face ’em now than explain to Esme that I didn’t. Come on.”
    Agnes followed the Oggs, but very uneasily. She wasn’t sure how far she trusted Perdita.
    A few guests had departed, but the castle had laid on a pretty good feast and Ramtop people at any social level were never ones to pass up a laden table.
    Nanny glanced at the crowd and grabbed Shawn, who was passing with a tray.
    “Where’s the vampires?”
    “What, Mum?”
    “That Count…Magpie…”
    “Magpyr,” said Agnes.
    “Him,” said Nanny.
    “He’s not a…he’s gone up to…the solar, Mum. They all have—What’s that smell of garlic, Mum?”
    “It’s your brother. All right, let’s keep going.”
    The solar was right at the top of the keep. It was old, cold and drafty. Verence had put glass in the huge windows, at his queen’s insistence, which just meant that now the huge room attracted the more cunning, insidious kind of draft. But it was the royal room—not as public as the great hall, but the place where the king received visitors when he was being formally informal.
    The Nanny Ogg expeditionary force corkscrewed up the spiral staircase. She advanced across the good yet threadbare carpet to the group seated around the fire.
    She took a deep breath.
    “Ah, Mrs Ogg,” said Verence, desperately. “Do join us.”
    Agnes looked sideways at Nanny, and saw her face contort into a strange smile.
    The Count was sitting in the big chair by the fire, with Vlad standing behind him. They both looked very handsome, she thought. Compared to them Verence, in his clothes that never seemed to fit right and permanently harassed expression, looked out of place.
    “The Count was just explaining how Lancre will become a duchy of his lands in Uberwald,” said Verence. “But we’ll still be referred to as a kingdom, which I think is very reasonable of him, don’t you agree?”
    “Very handsome suggestion,” said Nanny.
    “There will be taxes, of course,” said the Count. “Not onerous. We don’t want blood—figuratively speaking!” He beamed at the joke.
    “Seems reasonable to me,” said Nanny.
    “It is , isn’t it,” said the Count, beaming. “I knew it would work out so well. And I am so pleased, Verence, to see your essential modern attitude. People have quite the wrong idea about vampires, you see. Are we fiendish killers?” He beamed at them. “Well, yes, of course we are. But only when necessary. Frankly, we could hardly hope to rule a country if we went around killing everyone all the time, could