The Truth

Lord Vetinari looked at him in nothing but innocent surprise. 'Why, nothing. Should I have done something?'

'Have you locked him up,' said Sacharissa suspiciously, 'in a deep cell, and made him wear a mask all the time and have all his meals brought by a deaf and dumb jailer?'

'Er... no, I don't think so,' said Lord Vetinari, giving her a smile. 'Although it would make a very good story, I've no doubt. No, I understand he's enrolled in the Guild of Actors, though of course I realize that there are those who would consider a deep dungeon a preferred alternative. I foresee a happy career for him, nevertheless. Children's parties, and so on.'

'What... as being you?'

'Indeed. Very risible.'

'And perhaps when you have some boring duty to perform, or have to sit for an oil painting, you'll have a little job for him?' said William.

'Hmm?' said Vetinari. William had thought that Vimes had a blank look, but he'd been wreathed in smiles compared to his lordship when Lord Vetinari wanted to look blank. 'Do you have any more questions, Mr de Worde?'

'I will have a lot,' said William, pulling himself together. The Times will be taking a very close interest in civic affairs.'

'How commendable,' said the Patrician. 'If you contact Drumknott here I'm sure I will find time to grant you an interview.'

The Right Word in the Right Place, William thought. Unpleasant though the knowledge was, his ancestors had always been amongst the first to get to grips in any conflict. In every siege, every ambush, every stricken dash against fortified emplacements, some de Worde had galloped towards death or glory and sometimes both. No enemy was too strong, no wound was too deep, no sword was too heavy for a de Worde. No grave was too deep, either. As his instincts wrestled with his tongue, he could feel his ancestors behind him, pushing him into the fray. Vetinari was too obviously playing with him. Oh well, at least let's die for something decent... Onward to death or glory or both!

'I am sure, my lord, that whenever you wish for an interview, the Times will be quite prepared to grant you one,' he said. 'If space allows.'

He hadn't realized how much background noise there was until it stopped. Drumknott had closed his eyes. Sacharissa was staring straight ahead. The dwarfs stood like statues.

Finally, Lord Vetinari broke the silence.

The Times? You mean you, and this young lady here?' he said, raising his eyebrows. 'Oh, I see. It's like the Public. Well, if I can be of any help to the Times--'

'We won't be bribed, either,' said William. He knew he was galloping in among the sharpened stakes here, but he'd be damned before he'd be patronized.

'Bribed?' said Vetinari. 'My dear sir, seeing what you're capable of for nothing, I'd hesitate to press even a penny in your hand. No, I have nothing to offer you except thanks, which of course are notorious for their evaporative tendencies. Ah, a little idea occurs. I shall be having a small dinner on Saturday. Some of the Guild leaders, a few ambassadors... all rather dull, but perhaps you and your very bold young lady... I do beg your pardon, I meant of course the Times... would like to attend?'

'I don't--' William began, and stopped suddenly. A shoe scraping down your shin can do that.

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'The Times would be delighted,' said Sacharissa, beaming.

'Capital. In that case--'

There is a favour I need to ask, to tell the truth,' said William.

Vetinari smiled. 'Of course. If I can do anything for the Ti--'

'Will you be going to Harry King's daughter's wedding on Saturday?'

To his secret delight, the look that Vetinari gave him seemed to be blank because the man hadn't got anything to fill it with. But Drumknott leaned towards him and there were a few whispered words.

'Ah?' said the Patrician. 'Harry King. Ah, yes. A positive incarnation of the spirit that has made our city what it is today. Haven't I always said that, Drumknott?'

'Yes indeed, sir.'

'I shall certainly attend. I expect a lot of other civic leaders will be there?'

The question was left delicately spinning in the air.

'As many as possible,' said William.

'Fine carriages, tiaras, stately robes?' said Lord Vetinari, to the knob of his cane.

'Lots.'

'Yes, I'm sure they will be there,' said Lord Vetinari, and William knew that Harry King would walk his daughter past more top nobs than he could count, and while the world of Mr King did not have a lot of space for letters he could count very carefully indeed. Mrs King was going to have joyful hysterics out of sheer passive snobbery.

'In return, however,' said the Patrician, 'I must ask you not to upset Commander Vimes.' He gave a little cough. 'More than necessary.'

'I'm sure we can pull together, sir.'

Lord Vetinari raised his eyebrows. 'Oh, I do hope not, I really do hope not. Pulling together is the aim of despotism and tyranny. Free men pull in all kinds of directions.' He smiled. 'It's the only way to make progress. That and, of course, moving with the times. Good day to you.'