The Truth

'Small sums of money will be sent to you periodically,' said Lord de Worde. 'You will be able to live in a style which--'

A few wisps of dust spiralled down from the shadowy ceiling, twirling like sycamore leaves.

They landed next to the velvet bag.

Overhead, a shrouded chandelier jingled gently.

William looked up. 'Oh, no,' he said. 'Please... don't kill anyone!'

'What?' said Lord de Worde.

Otto Chriek dropped to the floor, hands raised like talons.

'Good evening!' he said to a shocked bailiff. He looked at his hands. 'Oh, vot am I thinking of!' He bunched his fists and danced from foot to foot. Tut zem up in the traditional Ankh-Morpork pugilism!'

'Put them up?' said the man, raising a cudgel. 'Blow that!'

A jab from Otto lifted him off his feet. He landed on his back, spinning, and slid away across the polished floor. Otto spun round so fast that he blurred, and there was a smack as another man went down.

'Vot's this? Vot's this? I'm using your civilized fisticuffs, and you don't vant to fight?' he said, springing back and forth like an amateur boxer. 'Ah, you, sir, you show fight--' The fists blurred into invisibility and pummelled a man like a punchbag. Otto straightened up as the man fell, and absent-mindedly punched sideways to catch the charging fourth man on the chin. The man actually spun in the air.

This happened in a few seconds. And then William got enough of a grip to shout a warning. He was too late.

Otto looked down at the length of sword blade sticking too far into his chest.

'Oh, vill you look at zis,' he said. 'You know, in zis job I just cannot make a shirt last two days?'

He turned to Lord de Worde, who was backing away, and cracked his knuckles.

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'Keep it away from me!' shouted his lordship.

William shook his head.

'Oh, yes?' said Otto, still advancing. 'You think I am an it? Veil, let me act like an it.'

He grabbed Lord de Worde's jacket and held him up in the air, with one hand, at arm's length.

'Ve have people like you back home,' he said. 'Zey are the vuns that tell the mob vot to do. I come here to Ankh-Morpork, zey tell me things are different, but really it is alvays the same. Alvays zere are damn people like you! And now, vot shall I do viz you?'

He wrenched at his own jacket and tossed the black ribbon aside.

'I never liked zer damn cocoa anyvay,' he said.

'Otto!'

The vampire turned. 'Yes, Villiam? Vot is it you vish?'

That's going too far.' Lord de Worde had gone pale. William had never seen him so obviously frightened before.

'Oh? You say? You think I bite him? Shall I bite you, Mister Lordship? Veil, maybe not, because Villiam here thinks I am a good person.' He pulled Lord de Worde close, so their faces were a few inches apart. 'Now, maybe I have to ask myself, how good am I? Or maybe I just have to ask myself... am I better zan you?' He hesitated for a second or two and then in a sudden movement jerked the man towards him.

With great delicacy, he planted a kiss on Lord de Worde's forehead. Then he put the trembling man back down on the floor and patted him on the head.

'Actually, maybe zer cocoa is not too bad and zer young lady who plays zer harmonium, sometimes she vinks at me,' he said, stepping aside.

Lord de Worde opened his eyes, and looked at William.

'How dare you--'

'Shut up,' said William. 'Now, I'm going to tell you what's going to happen. I'm not going to name names. That's my decision. I don't want my mother to have been married to a traitor, you see. Then there's Rupert. And my sisters. And me, too. I'm protecting the name. That's probably very wrong of me, and I'm going to do it anyway. I'm going to disobey you one more time, in fact. I won't

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tell the truth. Not the whole truth. Besides, I am sure that those who want to know these things will find out soon enough. And I daresay they'll sort it out quietly. You know... just like you do,'

'Traitor?' whispered Lord de Worde.

'That is what people would say.'

Lord de Worde nodded, like a man caught in an unpleasant dream.

'I could not possibly take the money,' he said. 'I wish you joy of it, my son. Because... you are most certainly a de Worde. Good day to you.' He turned and walked away. After a few seconds the distant door creaked open and shut quietly.

William staggered to a pillar. He was shaking. He replayed the meeting in his head. His brain hadn't touched the ground the whole time.

'Are you okay, Villiam?' said Otto.

'I feel sick, but... yeah, I'm all right. Of all the bone-headed, stubborn, self-centred, arrogant--'

'But you make up for it in other vays,' said Otto.

'I meant my father.'

'Oh.'

'He's just so certain he's in the right all the time--'

'Sorry, this is still your father ve're talking about?'

'Are you saying I'm like him?'

'Oh, no. Qvite different. Absolutely qvite different. No similarities votsoever.'

'You didn't need to go that far!' He stopped. 'Did I say "thank you"?'

'No, you did not.'

'Oh, dear.'