This is a continuation of # 13 in my first series of Guild stories. And, yes, if anyone is confused, Voluptuary_Manque and voluptuary_manque2 are the same author. I just had some computer issues and had to 'reincarnate' myself.
*****
"Ah, Miss Lavish," Accumulata had been escorted from Lady Sybil Hospital to the Patrician's Palace and then immediately into the Oblong Office.
1
Sitting in a comfortable chair she very pointedly did not glance to either the left or the right. She didn't need to. The thick, solid, black-clad 'clerks' on either side of her broadcast an ominous presence that had little to do with their rather ordinary appearance.
1
An almost unheard of experience. Most people who found themselves with an unannounced 'appointment' with the Patrician had to wait next to the eccentric office clock until its discontinuous ticking turned their brains to peanut butter.
"As I said to Postmaster von Lipwig the day I hired him, sometimes, very rarely, at a point in a person's career where they have made such a foul and tangled mess of life that death appears to be the only sensible option, an angel appears unto them and offers a chance to go back to the moment when it all went wrong—and this time do it
right
. Miss Lavish, I should like you to think of me as—an angel."
More like an especially scheming demon,
she thought.
I wonder how soon it was after I started sabotaging the Undertaking that he found out what I was doing. Then he just let me get in deeper and deeper until I had run up enough expense that he could pillage the family trust for compensation and turn them all against me.
Centuries before the Lavishes had been what they chose to call 'merchant adventurers' and what everyone else called 'pirates'. Her ancestors had been very good at it and had accumulated a vast fortune that allowed their descendants to enjoy a lifestyle that had come to bear the family name. But either the kind of intelligence that had produced the fortune had run thin in the family blood or the forces within the City that opposed them had improved alarmingly. Accumulata rather feared the latter was the case.
"I don't know what you want from me, your Lordship, but I do know that whatever it is, I really have no choice. My family puts the sole blame for your appropriating much of their fortune on me and now their only debate is whether to go formally to the Assassins or to just hire some of Chrysoprase's trolls to tear me limb from limb. I have to get out of the City."
"Oh, no, Miss Lavish," Vetinari steepled his long fingers in front of his aquiline visage, "there is always a choice. If you step through that door over there I promise that you will be under no obligation to return and will never hear from me again."
Accumulata thought she had never heard such a dubious offer in her life. She wondered briefly just what sort of messy demise waited on the other side of the door but had no desire whatever to find out. It was probably a multistory sheer drop onto a bed of spikes or something equally ghastly. And avoiding a messy demise was, at present, her primary objective. While the Assassins could be counted on to avoid excessive fuss and mess, she was worried that her relatives might prefer a visit from the Guild of Bodyguards, Bouncers and Last Resort Lenders, i.e. the Breccia.
They
would have no compunction against starting with their clubs on her feet and working their way up. Much as she hated the idea, if the Patrician had chosen to take her side then however much that cost, she would pay.
"And what job are you offering
me
, your Lordship?"
"Directness becomes you, Miss Lavish, despite your having majored in diplomacy at the Guild School. The People's Beneficent Republic of Agatea has recently reopened a communications channel that was last used some months before the Abdication of the Silver Emperor and their Glorious Revolution. Trade between our realms has increased considerably since then and the Chairman of the Central Committee of the People's Revolution, one Madame Butterfly, has broached the subject of an exchange of ambassadors. You will do nicely."
"Agatea? The Counterweight Continent? But that's weeks by sea."
The thin man with the fussy beard and pianist's fingers smiled. It was a sinister smile but a smile nonetheless. "You did say you needed to leave the City."
Accumulata nearly protested that she was hoping more for somewhere like Quirm or at worst Genua until she remembered how spread out the Lavish family was. This was mostly due to their total inability to tolerate each other's presence except when a common target came into view. Then they united into a solid, malevolent mass. And right now,
she
was their common target. No, his Lordship was right. The Counterweight Continent was definitely a better choice.
"Will—will I have embassy staff?"
"Of course. At first it will be small, as befits an initial legation, but if things go favorably you will be administered enough funds to hire local help and I will periodically dispatch such clerks as I feel you need. To begin with, let me first introduce you to Clerk Arachne. She will serve as your Cultural and Scientific Attaché while researching the wildlife of the Counterweight Continent."
A young woman stepped from behind Accumulata's chair. She was clad in the common day dress of a female Assassin though uncharacteristically the dress was cinched around her middle by a broad black leather belt. Even more oddly, the belt was clasped by a bright red enameled buckle in the shape of an hourglass. She nodded in greeting.
"Additionally, you will, as ambassador, require a proper servant and bodyguard. This is Mr. Pump. In addition to the usual scrolls in his head, he has been equipped with a complete Agatean/Morporkian dictionary which will facilitate communication with your counterparts in Hunghung."
A huge golem, its eyes gleaming bright, fiery red, lumbered into view. "Good Afternoon, Miss Lavish," it rumbled.
"Mr. Pump will also act, should the need arise, as your parole officer. Do not be so foolish as to attempt to evade him. He has your Karmic Signature and will follow you twenty-four hours a day
forever.
Now, your ship awaits you in the harbor. Do not let me detain you."
*****
One Big River sat on the foot of the bed and looked at the wall. He wasn't thinking of anything, not being well equipped for that sort of activity. His job was to act as the Chairman's bodyguard and, shall we say, help her
relax
after a strenuous day of governing? He was, she told him,
very
well equipped for that!
Pretty Butterfly snuggled up against the man's broad back, a contented smile on her face. Now, she thought, if only the rest of the Central Committee would try as hard to make her happy. They didn't need to share her bed,
2
but having some small desire to see her point of view would make for a more enlightened realm. Instead, they always threw up meaningless objections to whatever changes in the Five Year Plan she felt necessary. It was, she sometimes mused, enough to make her consider bringing the wire waistcoat and cheese grater out of retirement.
2
In fact she strongly preferred that they did not!
But the Pointless Albatross had arrived from Ankh-Morpork with news that the Patrician had chosen an ambassador and was sending her by ship on the outgoing tide. He also sent his regrets that the Great Wizzard was not available, having been given a life appointment as the Egregious Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography but Vetinari insisted that the Chairman and the new Ambassador would find it easy to see eye-to-eye. Pretty Butterfly certainly hoped so. It would make Committee meetings go more smoothly if the rest knew that the amazing city state of Ankh-Morpork had the Chairman's back! She smiled less contentedly at the possible reactions of Comrades Hong, Fang, Sung, Tong and McSweeney.
3
3
Their fathers had been lords of the five noble families who wrestled for centuries to control the Agatean Empire. Having ascended to patriarchy due to the previous generation's fatal inability to defeat the Silver Horde and its Red Army, they continued the traditional wrestling for control, just under new titles.
It was a pity that Rincewind was otherwise engaged Butterfly thought. Too many of the things he had told her about revolutions, governing and peasants had turned out to be true. He might not have been much of a wizard, really, but as a vizier he would have been a great choice. Ah well, perhaps, the new ambassador had a sufficiently clear-eyed and cynical view of mankind that she could step into his pointy toed shoes.
*****
As the S.S.
Utterly Enormous