I Shall Wear Midnight

And if there is any clearances here, I swear on my spog that it will be us that is doing the clearing!’ He stamped up and down a bit, and then added: ‘And what is this we are hearing about ye demanding the law? We is nae friends of the law, ye ken.’
    ‘What about Wee Mad Arthur?’ said Tiffany.
    It was almost impossible to make a Feegle look sheepish, but Rob Anybody looked as if he was about to say ‘Bah’. ‘Oh, it’s a terrible thing them gnomes did to him,’ he said, looking sad. ‘Do ye ken he washes his face every day? I mean, that sort of thing is OK when the mud gets too thick, but every day? I ask ye, how can a body stand it?’
    One moment there were the Feegles, and then there was a faint whoosh , followed by a total lack of Feegles, and the next moment there was a more than adequate supply of guards. Fortunately they were the sergeant and Preston, stamping to attention.
    The sergeant cleared his throat. ‘Am I addressing Miss Tiffany Aching?’ he said.
    ‘It looks to me as if you are, Brian,’ said Tiffany, ‘but you be the judge.’
    The sergeant looked around quickly and then leaned closer. ‘Please, Tiff,’ he whispered, ‘it’s all gone serious on us.’ He straightened up quickly and then said, far louder than was necessary, ‘Miss Tiffany Aching! I am commanded by my lord the Baron to inform you that it is his command that you must stay within the irons of the castle—’
    ‘The what?’ said Tiffany.
    Wordlessly, his eyes on the ceiling, the sergeant handed her a piece of parchment.
    ‘Oh, you mean the environs ,’ she said. ‘That means the castle and the places around it too,’ she told him helpfully. ‘But I thought the Baron wanted me to leave?’
    ‘Look, I’m just reading out what it says here, Tiff, and I am ordered to lock your broomstick in the dungeon.’
    ‘That’s an impressive errand that you have there, Officer. It’s leaning against the wall, help yourself.’
    The sergeant looked relieved. ‘You’re not going to make any … trouble?’ he said.
    Tiffany shook her head. ‘Not at all, Sergeant. I have no quarrel with a man who is only doing his duty.’
    The sergeant walked cautiously up to the broomstick. They all knew it, of course; they had seen it going overhead, and generally only just overhead, practically every day. But he hesitated, with his hand a few inches from the wood. ‘Er, what happens when I touch it?’ he said.
    ‘Oh, then it’s ready to fly,’ said Tiffany.
    The sergeant’s hand very slowly drew back from the vicinity, or possibly the environs, of the broomstick. ‘But it won’t fly for me, right?’ he said in a voice full of air-sickness and pleading.
    ‘Oh, not very far or very high, probably,’ said Tiffany, without looking round. The sergeant was well known to get vertigo simply by standing on a chair. She walked over to him and picked up the stick. ‘Brian, what were your orders if I refused to obey your orders, if you see what I mean?’
    ‘I was supposed to arrest you!’
    ‘What? And lock me up in the dungeon?’
    The sergeant winced. ‘You know I wouldn’t want to do that,’ he said. ‘ Some of us are grateful, and we all knew that poor old Mrs Coble was as drunk as a skunk, poor woman.’
    ‘Then I won’t put you to the trouble,’ said Tiffany. ‘So why don’t I put this broomstick, which you seem so worried about, down in the dungeon and lock it in. Then I won’t be going anywhere, yes?’
    Relief flooded the sergeant’s face, and as they walked down the stone steps to the dungeon he lowered his voice and said, ‘It’s not me, you understand, it’s them upstairs. It seems like her grace is calling the shots now.’
    Tiffany hadn’t seen very many dungeons, but people said that the one in the castle was pretty good by dungeon standards and would probably earn at least five ball and chains if anybody ever decided to write a Good Dungeon Guide. It was spacious and well-drained, with a handy gutter right down the middle, which ended up in the inevitable round hole, which did not smell very bad on, as it were, the whole.
    Neither did the goats, which unfolded themselves from their snug beds in piles of straw and watched her through slot eyes in case she did anything interesting, such as feeding them. They didn’t stop eating, because being goats, they were already eating their dinner for the second time.
    The dungeon had two entrances. One went straight outdoors: it was probably there to drag