Lords and Ladies

look embarrassed.
    “Pointy ears and hair you want to stroke,” she said, vaguely. “And they can fascinate you. And when they’re happy they make a pleasing noise.”
    “What?”
    “Just thinking to myself.” Magrat stood up. “OK. I’ll build up the fire and fetch a couple of crossbows and load them up for you. And you keep the door shut and let no one in, d’you hear? And if I don’t come back…try and go somewhere where there’s people. Get up to the dwarfs at Copperhead. Or the trolls.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “I’m going to see what’s happened to everyone.”
    Magrat opened the sack she’d brought down from the armory. There was a helmet in it. It had wings on, and to Shawn’s mind was quite impractical. * There was also a pair of mail gloves and a choice assortment of rusty weaponry.
    “But there’s probably more of those things out there!”
    “Better out there than in here.”
    “Can you fight?”
    “Don’t know. Never tried,” said Magrat.
    “But if we wait here, someone’s bound to come.”
    “Yes. I’m afraid they will.”
    “What I mean is, you don’t have to do this!”
    “Yes I do. I’m getting married tomorrow. One way or the other.”
    “But—”
    “Shut up!”
    She’s going to get killed, Shawn thought. It’s enough to be able to pick up a sword. You have to know which end to poke into the enemy. I’m supposed to be on guard and she’s going to get killed—
    But—
    But—
    She shot one of them in the eye, right through the keyhole. I couldn’t have done that. I’d have said something like “Hands up!” first. But they were in the way and she just…got them out of her way.
    She’s still going to die. She’s just probably going to die bravely.
    I wish my mum was here.
    Magrat finished rolling up the stained remnant of the wedding dress and stowed it in the sack.
    “Have we got any horses?”
    “There’s…elf horses in the courtyard, miss. But I don’t think you’ll be able to ride one.”
    It struck Shawn immediately that this wasn’t the right thing to say.

    It was black, and larger than what Magrat had to think of as a human horse. It rolled red eyes at her, and tried to get into position to kick.
    Magrat managed to mount only by practically tethering every leg to the rings in the stable wall, but when she was on, the horse changed. It had the docility of the severely whipped, and seemed to have no mind of its own.
    “It’s the iron,” said Shawn.
    “What does it do to them? It can’t hurt .”
    “Don’t know, miss. Seems they just freeze up, kind of thing.”
    “Drop the portcullis after I’m through.”
    “Miss—”
    “Are you going to tell me not to go?”
    “But—”
    “Shut up, then.”
    “But—”
    “I remember a folksong about a situation just like this,” said Magrat. “This girl had her fiancé stolen by the Queen of the Elves and she didn’t hang around whining, she jolly well got on her horse and went and rescued him. Well, I’m going to do that too.”
    Shawn tried to grin.
    “You’re going to sing ?” he said.
    “I’m going to fight. I’ve got everything to fight for, haven’t I? And I’ve tried everything else.”
    Shawn wanted to say: but that’s not the same! Going and fighting when you’re a real person isn’t like folksongs! In real life you die! In folksongs you just have to remember to keep one finger in your ear and how to get to the next chorus! In real life no one goes wack-fol-a-diddle-di-do-sing-too-rah-li-ay!
    But he said :
    “But, miss, if you don’t come back—”
    Magrat turned in the saddle.
    “I’ll be back.”
    Shawn watched her urge the sluggish horse into a trot and disappear over the drawbridge.
    “Good luck!” he shouted.
    Then he lowered the portcullis and went back into the keep, where there were three loaded crossbows on the kitchen table.
    There was also the book on martial arts that the king had sent for specially.
    He pumped up the fire, turned a chair to face the door, and turned to the Advanced Section.

    Magrat was halfway down the road to the square when the adrenaline wore off and her past life caught up with her.
    She looked down at the armor, and the horse, and thought: I’m out of my mind.
    It was that bloody letter. And I was frightened. I thought I’d show everyone what I’m made of. And now they’ll probably find out: I’m made of lots of tubes and greeny purple wobbly bits.
    I was just lucky with those elves. And I didn’t think.