'You don't organize a mob, Nanny,' said Agnes. 'A mob is something that happens spontaneously.'

Nanny Ogg's eyes gleamed.

'There's seventy-nine Oggs in these parts,' she said. 'Spontaneous it is, then.'

Her gaze fell for a moment on the forest of familial pictures, and then she removed a boot and hammered on the wall beside her. After a few seconds they heard a door bang and footsteps pass in front of the window.

Jason Ogg, blacksmith and head male of the Ogg clan, poked his head around the front door.

'Yes, Mum?'

'There's going to be a spontaneous mob stormin' the castle in, oh, half an hour,' said Nanny. 'Put the word out.'

'Yes, Mum.'

'Tell everyone I said it ain't compuls'ry for them to be there, of course,' Nanny added. Jason glanced at the hierarchy of Oggs. Nanny didn't have to add anything more to that sentence. Everyone knew the cat's box sometimes needed lining.

'Yes, Mum. I'll tell 'em you said they didn't have to come if they don't want to.'

'Good boy.'

'Is it flaming torches or, you know, scythes and stuff?'

'That's always tricky,' said Nanny. 'But I'd say both.'

'Battering ram, Mum?'

'Er... no, I don't think so.'

'Good! It is my door, after all,' said Magrat.

'Anythin' special for people to yell, Mum?'

'Oh, general yellin', I think.'

'Anything to throw?'

'Just rocks on this occasion,' said Nanny.

'Not large ones!' said Magrat. 'Some of the stonework around the main gate is quite fragile.'

'Okay, nothin' harder than sandstone, understand? And tell our Kev to roll out a barrel of my Number Three beer,' said Nanny. 'Better pour a bottle of brandy in it to keep out the chill. It can really strike right through your coat when you're hanging around outside a castle chantin' and wavin'. And get our Nev to run up to Poorchick's and say Mrs Ogg presents her compliments and we want half a dozen big cheeses and ten dozen eggs, and tell Mrs Carter will she be so good as to let us have a big jar of those pickled onions she does so well. It's a shame that we've not time to roast something, but I suppose you have to put up with that sort of inconvenience when you're being spontaneous.' Nanny Ogg winked at Agnes.

'Yes, Mum.'

'Nanny?' said Magrat, when Jason had hurried away.

'Yes, dear?'

'A couple of months ago, when Verence suggested that tax on liquor exports, there was a big crowd protesting in the courtyard and he said, "Oh, well, if that's the will of the people..."'

'Well, it was the will of the people,' said Nanny.

'Oh. Right. Good.'

'Only sometimes they temp'ry forget what their will is,' said Nanny. 'Now, you can leave young Esme next door with Jason's wife...'

'I'm keeping her with me,' said Magrat. 'She's happy enough on my back.'

'You can't do that!' said Agnes.

'Don't you dare argue with me, Agnes Nitt,' said Magrat, drawing herself up. 'And not a word out of you, Nanny.'

'Wouldn't dream of it,' said Nanny. 'The Nac mac Feegle always take their babies into battle, too. Mind you, for use as a weapon if it comes to it.'

Magrat relaxed a little. 'She said her first word this morning,' she said, looking proud.

'What, at fourteen days?' said Nanny doubtfully.

'Yes. It was "blup".'

'Blup?'

'Yes. It was... more of a bubble than a word, I suppose.'

'Let's get the stuff together,' said Nanny, standing up. 'We're a coven, ladies. We're a trio. I miss Granny as much as you do, but we've got to deal with things as she would.' She took a few deep breaths. 'I can't be having with this.'

'It sounds better the way she says it,' said Agnes.

'I know.'

Hodgesaargh ate his meal in the servants' dining room off the kitchen, and ate alone. There were new people around, but Hodgesaargh generally didn't pay much attention to non-falconers. There were always other people in the castle, and they had jobs to do, and if pressed Hodgesaargh would vaguely acknowledge the fact that if he left his laundry in a sack by the kitchen door every week it'd be washed and dried two days later. There were his meals. The game he left on the cold slab in the long pantry got dealt with. And so on.

He was returning to the mews when one of the shadows pulled him into the darkness, with a hand damped over his mouth.

'Mph?'

'It's me. Mrs Ogg,' said Nanny. 'You all right, Hodgesaargh?'

'Mph,' and by this Hodgesaargh contrived to indicate that he was fine except for someone's thumb blocking his breathing.

'Where are the vampires?'

'Mph?'

Nanny released her grip.

'Vampires?' the falconer panted. 'They the ones that walk around slowly?'

'No, that's the... food,' said Nanny. 'Any swishlooking buggers about as well? Any soldiers?'

There was a soft thud from somewhere in the shadows, and someone said, 'Blast, I've dropped the nappy bag. Did you see where it rolled?'

'Er, there's some new ladies and gentlemen,' said Hodgesaargh. 'They're hanging around the kitchens. There's some men in chainmail, too.'

'Damn!' said Nanny.

'There's the little door off the main hall,' said Magrat. 'But that's always locked on the inside.'

Agnes swallowed. 'All right. I'll go in and unlock it, then.'

Nanny tapped her on the shoulder. 'You'll be all right?'.

'Well, they can't control me...'

'They can grab you, though.'

Vlad won't want you hurt, said Perdita. You saw the way he looked at us...

'I... think I'll be all right,' said Agnes.

'You know your own minds best, I'm sure,' said Nanny. 'Got the holy water?'

'Let's hope it works better than the garlic,' said Agnes.

'Good luck.' Nanny coded her head. 'Sounds like the mob is spontaneously arriving at the gate. Go!'

Agnes ran off into the rain, around the castle to the doors of the kitchen. They were wide open. She made it to the corridor beyond the kitchens when a hand grabbed her shoulder, and then in a blur of speed two young men were standing in front of her.

They were dressed something like the young opera-goers she'd seen in Ankh-Morpork, except that their fancy waistcoats would have been considered far too fast by the staider members of the community, and they wore their hair long like a poet who hopes that romantically flowing locks will make up for a wretched inability to find a rhyme for 'daffodil'.

'Why are you in such a hurry, girl?' one said.

Agnes sagged. 'Look,' she said, 'I'm very busy. Can we speed this up? Can we dispense with all the leers and "I like a girl with spirit" stuff? Can we get right to the bit where I twist out of your grip and kick you in the-'

One of them struck her hard across the face.

'No,' he said.

'I'll tell Vlad of you!' Perdita screamed in Agnes's voice.

The other vampire hesitated.

'Hah! Yes, he knows me!' said Agnes and Perdita together. 'Hah!'

One of the vampires looked her up and down.

'What, you?' he said.

'Yes, her,' said a voice.

Vlad strolled towards them, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his waistcoat.

'Demone? Crimson? To me, please?'

The two went and stood meekly in front of him. There was a blur, and then his thumbs were back in his waistcoat and the two vampires were in mid-crumple and sinking to the floor.

'This is the kind of thing we don't do to our guests,' said Vlad, stepping over Demone's twitching body and holding out his hands to Agnes. 'Did they hurt you? Say the word and I'll turn them over to Lacrimosa. She's just discovered you have a torture chamber here. And to think we thought Lancre was backward!'

'Oh, that old thing,' said Agnes weakly. Crimson was making bubbling noises. I didn't even see his hands move, said Perdita. 'Er... it's been there for centuries...'

'Oh, really? She did say there weren't enough straps and buckles. Still, she is... inventive. Just say the word.'