Rufus Drumknott, chief clerk and personal servant to Lord Havelock Vetinari, Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, opened the Times to the daily crossword puzzle, neatly folded and creased the paper and laid it 'just so' on his master's desk. Visitors (or those with 'appointments' to the ruler) sometimes remarked afterwards on the precision of the practice. Whether it was at the Patrician's bidding or because of Drumknott's obsessive personality has never been discerned. Solving the daily crossword was the Patrician's only admitted amusement, though those most familiar with the man were sure that his genuine most beloved pastime was running the city and manipulating its inhabitants.
Today's puzzle must have been unusually ingenious because Vetinari stared at it for the exceptionally long time of five minutes before completing the entire grid in one go.
"Drumknott, do send my compliments to Ms. Speaker for this wonderful puzzle. This exceeds her usual work. And also to Mr. DeWorde at the Times for retaining her. These do lighten my day."
Drumknott nodded obediently and drifted off to follow his instructions. And after the messages had been sent, he repaired to the servant's dining room downstairs for supper. Observers might wonder why a man so highly placed in the Palace preferred to take his meals with others much lower on the hierarchy but Drumknott enjoyed the food, enjoyed listening to the others' gossip and just possibly enjoyed reporting back to the Patrician whichever juicy tidbits he'd overheard1.
[1Since the ruler of the city was a veritable information sponge, this last observation can be moved from 'just possibly' to 'quite probably' and even to 'almost certainly'.]
Clerk Wilhemina tried to turn the tables. "Mr. Drumknott, what news from the Patrician?"
Rufus smiled. "If he wants us to know, he'll tell us. It isn't as though I know his Lordship's thoughts, after all. They are so subtle that even if I knew them, I'd likely not understand."
This reply was a blatant lie. Drumknott so clearly understood his employer's mind that he often had the next file Vetinari would need in hand and waiting even before the Patrician asked for it. It was a trait that the Patrician greatly appreciated and one of the reasons that he occasionally spent time considering his Chief Clerk's welfare. The conspiracy between him and Lady Margolotta to encourage a closer 'relationship' between Drumknott and the lady's personal librarian, Miss Healstether, may be a result of this. It seems to have 'born fruit', so to speak. The pair recently spent two nights in Quirm lodged on a siding in Margolotta's luxurious private railcar. Whatever may have happened in that railcar likely stayed in that railcar, we must suppose.
*****
Encouraging a closer relationship was a thought often on the mind of young Lethality Wiggs. It happened whenever her thoughts turned to young Samuel Vimes-Ramkin, Marquise of Quire, sole heir to the duchy of Ankh-Morpork and much beloved son of His Excellency Sir Samuel Vimes, Commander of the City Watch and his Lady Sybil (née Ramkin). Lethality had announced at the ripe age of twelve that she intended to marry the young Marquise, a precocious notion that earned the eventual approval of both sets of parents and the slightly bemused consent of Sammy. Sadly for her, at the same pre-adolescent age of twelve, young Sam was more concerned with flying around on his Cloudsplitter carpet and playing with his pets that anything that might qualify as romance. It didn't help that Li's mother had no intention of encouraging her daughter's daydreams of climbing onto her 'friend's' lap for whatever 'canoodling' might ensue. Li couldn't even get an explanation of just what canoodling might consist of and was strictly forbidden to attempt anything beyond mild flirtation and a knit black silk swimsuit that covered her neck to knee and down to the elbows. Young Sam had, a couple of times, told her she was pretty and even held her hand on the way to dinner when both families spend a month's holiday at the Ramkin family estate, Crundell's. Lethality tended to hug herself in misty delight whenever she remembered it. As you can imagine, the thought of a closer relationship was a high priority, whenever she had a spare moment to herself.
The relationship was actually closer than she knew, given the tender ages of the pair. As far as Sammy was concerned, Li was his best friend and favored playmate, at least among humans. Where she might have ranked in comparison to his Kh'olli, Rolf and his swamp dragon, Twyla, was, at present, not something anyone should be asking. Besides, Li had a Cloudsplitter, a dog and a dragon of her own so flying around and playing with pets was actually a bonding exercise that would, as the adults clearly understood, lead to increased intimacy--in the proper time.
Right now, young Miss Wiggs has to content herself with admiring young Sam's growing frame. And growing Sammy is. In the face there can be no doubt as to whose son he is. The Vimes' family genes are pretty dominant in that way but in stature he is obviously of his mother's line, bred for healthy solidity and big bones. At thirteen young Sam is nearly the same height as his father and of such breadth of shoulder that Willikins, the family butler, has nodded approvingly at the thought of what the lad might be like should anyone ever make the bad decision of starting a brawl with him. Willikins might be "fat as butter and shiny as schmaltz" but he is also fast as a snake and lethal as an angry leopard. All three, Sir Samuel, Willikins and First Footman Amos Cordwinder have been instructing the lad in the more notorious aspects of Ankh-Morpork street fighting. Samuel already is nearly a match for Li in the use of throwing knives, as a pair of losers from the Pigsty Hill Dead Marmoset gang discovered--terminally. When he finally grows to full height it is quite likely, Willikins thinks, that the young Marquise will be able to acquit himself on the streets as well as Captain Ironfounderson. And the Captain has a punch that even trolls have come to respect.
*****
Autumn in the Year of the Perturbed Pangolin arrived and with it the start of school terms. Both of Lethality's parents were firmly of the belief that their children, starting with their eldest daughter, should have the full benefit of the culture that has grown up around and within the Houses of the Assassins' Guild School. Thus even though they lived well within flying carpet range, Li was enrolled under the approving eye of Madame les Deux-Epées at Black Widow House. Both Basil Andrew and Helena had resided in the Houses of the school, though Helena did it wearing short hair and an extra pair of socks in the front of her trousers. She and B.A. had been best friends for a number of years before it finally dawned on him that his 'best friend' was a girl. Such subterfuge is no longer necessary, now that the Assassins are officially co-educational and besides, Li had her sights on Sammy. Other boys need not approach.
"Lethality, dear," Madame le Deux-Epées began one evening, "your reputation with throwing knives precedes you. That is quite the most useful skill for one taking the Black. Will you be pursuing that career?"
"No, Madame. I'm going to marry the Marquise of Quire. He will inherit Crundell's and we will move to the country. Both our parents approve so there isn't any need for me to have a career. I shall be studying the Black Syllabus from a strictly defensive point of view. I know that there isn't anyone in the Guild foolish enough these days to try and collect the commission on Sir Samuel but Sammy isn't as devious as his father. My parents have drawn up plans to make Crundell's impregnable and even if someone does get in, they would still have to get by me. I plan on making that very, very difficult."
Madame les Deux-Epées beamed. "An admirable outlook, young lady. Given that you have already inhumed an assailant at the tender age of twelve, I rather suspect that should a commission on the Marquis show up in the files, it will get a dismissive glance and a toss into the dust bin. And you say your parents have initiated improving the estate's bastions?"
"They have. We were there during summer holiday. The Commander was overseeing his new steam-powered paddle-wheeler but occasionally looked in on Dad and Mum while they drew up plans. He even suggested improvements."
"And what were you doing, dear?"
"I was teaching Sammy to swim like an Assassin."
Madame's eyes opened in surprise. "The two of you went swimming together? In--the--uh..."
"Oh, no. Mother would have had a fit. She found a needlewoman in town who made us both bathing costumes out of knit silk."
"Knit. Silk. That sounds rather--uh, slinky. Was the young Marquis impressed?"
"Actually he grumbled about his but told me that I was very pretty in mine. And he has gotten very good at swimming. We can both slide into the ornamental lake on the property, cross it and come back without making the least splash. He might make a pretty good Assassin, himself, but he's going to study bio-mancy and hedge wizardry at Unseen. The family has held their lands profitably for generations and Sammy wants to make sure they stay that way."
*****
