Terry Pratchett - Discworld 14 Lords & Ladies

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first shot is fired (Note: Probably at the first pawn. The

Gods like a joke as much as anyone else) but that's 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, there's always something before. It's 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?

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. It's just that although there's more

iron than gold it's harder to sing songs about. Dwarfs love

iron.

And that's what the stones contained. The love of iron. A

love 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.

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 he'll give up. Out

from the trees and into the rushy valley where, on a slight

rise in the ground, are the stones.

They're about man-height, and barely thicker than a fat

man.

And somehow they don't seem worth it. If there's a stone

circle you mustn't 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.

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. It's just that

going to the stones is not... what we do. Especially if we're

nice girls.

But what we have here is not a nice girl, as generally

understood. For one thing, she's not beautiful. There's 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, there's 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 haven't 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

Hmm.

And then she approaches, cautiously. It's not the caution

of a rabbit about to run. It's closer to the way a hunter

moves.

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

There's a skylark in the hot summer sky. Apart from

that, there's 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 it's always quiet

around the stones.

"I'm 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.

"I don't want anything."

"Everyone wants something. Otherwise, why are you

here?"

"I just wanted to find out if you was real."

"To you, certainly... you 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?"

"It's at the top of your mind, girl. Anyone could see it.

Anyone with... good sight."

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 can't 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 can't come out of the circle, can you?"

"Let me give you what you want."

"I can go anywhere, but you're stuck in the circle," said

the girl.

"Can you go anywhere?"

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

a witch whatever they say. You can find things out for

yourself. You don't have to listen to a lot of daft old ladies

who've 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

Another of those one-shoulder shrugs, indicating that the

young man can go on looking all day.

"I will, will I?"

"You could be a great witch. You could be anything.

Anything you want. Come into the circle. Let me show you."

The girl takes a few steps forward, and then hesitates.

There is something about the woman's tone. The smile is

pleasant and friendly, but there is something in the voice,

too desperate, too urgent, too hungry.

"But-"

"Step through!"

But that was a long time ago, in the past. And besides,

the bitch is...

... older.

A land of ice...

Not winter, because that presumes an autumn and perhaps

one day a spring. This is a land of ice (Note: Which is

another country), not just a time of ice.

And three figures on horseback, looking down the snow-

covered slope to a ring of eight stones. From this side they

look much bigger.

You might watch the figures for some time before you

realized what it was about them that was strange-stranger,

that is, than their clothing. The hot breath of their horses

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摘要：

firstshotisfired(Note:Probablyatthefirstpawn.TheGodslikeajokeasmuchasanyoneelse)butthat'snotthestart.Theplay,thegame,thewarisjustalittlewindowonaribbonofeventsthatmayextendbackthousandsofyears.Thepointis,there'salwayssomethingbefore.It'salwaysacaseofNowReadOn.Muchhumaningenuityhasgoneintofindingtheu...

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Terry Pratchett - Discworld 14 Lords & Ladies

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