More Tales From The Guilds Ch 26

Sir Baldor, Baronet Woodbead of Quirm, lowered the thief through the bung in the side of an oak wine barrel and withdrew a sample. He poured that sample into three glasses and then handed one to his son, Wolfe, another to the Marquis de Aix en Pains and took one for himself. All three held the glasses up to the light streaming down from a window in the cellar, judged the color and swirled the liquid around. They watched the legs slowly creep down the sides of the glass, nodded appreciatively and then waved the bouquet towards them at arms' length. All smiled before inserting their noses into the glass, taking a deep breath and then sipping between their teeth, aerating and gurgling the wine, sucking in the aroma and then spitting the mouthful out

1

.

[

1

On the floor. It's traditional.]

"Mon Dieu!" the Marquis exclaimed. "So this is the result of your son's 'edge wizardry, Baldor? Is it something 'e can package and sell to o

ther

vintners? I 'ave not tasted a young wine with such promise in more years than I want to admit! Wolfe,

mon amí

,

c'est magnifique

!"

Wolfe made a sad face. "Sadly, I cannot. At least, I haven't figured out a way to do it yet. What I can do,

Monsieur le Marquis

, is make a consulting visit or two to your vineyards and, shall we say, encourage the vines to do better? That's what I do to ours and it appears to help greatly."

The Marquis nodded emphatically. "I shall tell the foreman, the

chef de travail

to prepare for your visit--and while I am at it, I shall advise

madame

that you will be visiting so that she can prepare

une collation légère,

an appropriate 'light snack'. The thought that someone might visit the chateau and go away 'ungry would give the woman nightmares for a week. And since young men of your age are always 'ungry..."

Wolfe grinned. "We are indeed. On those occasions when we take our young ladies out for dinner they always shudder at how much we eat. We are spoiled by the size of the meals that Unseen University serves, I think. But then, wizards have been serious trenchermen for a thousand years. It's part of the profession--or it was until Archchancellor Ridcully arrived. Have you heard that he now requires all the faculty to engage in sport of some sort or lose their snack privileges? That pronouncement was

highly

unpopular but it has gotten the faculty to at least take up walking up and down hills for an hour a day. He estimates that the Senior Faculty has lost a quarter of a ton among them!"

Both older men burst out laughing. "By Io, a thin wizard!" Baldor chuckled, "I have a hard time even visualizing it. What are you doing to stay fit, Wolfe?"

"The University is semi-alive and likes keeping students and faculty happy. One day, Connie Stibbons and I were unhappy about our lack of physical activity so the University grew a gymnasium. It has all manner of exercise equipment, a climbing wall, a swimming pool and to the Archchancellor's delight, a crossbow range. Students, especially, love it and spend a lot of time there. The pool and the climbing wall seriously burn off the pounds. The faculty aren't as pleased."

"I should imagine they are not!" the Marquise observed wryly, "When one is unused to 'ard work, it is rather a burden to 'ave it imposed. But you say that they acquiesce?"

"For a given value thereof. The most popular faculty 'sport' is 'peak bagging' where they open a Door to a hilly terrain and then climb up and down one. They say that they actually do it because it gives them an appetite for after luncheon morsels but it does work off the pounds, slowly. A few others have taken up croquet, mostly because the proper attitude during the game is underhanded, backstabbing and sly--very wizardly!"

"Ah," Sir Baldor commented, "wizardry from the Badde Olde Tymes. Unseen was a downright dangerous place back then until Ridcully became Archchancellor. But the man has turned out to be essentially unkillable, fitter and smarter than the rest of the Faculty and very likely to hold the position until he eventually succumbs to old age. And since for wizards that takes a very long time, the place will be relatively innocuous for the foreseeable future--relatively!"

"Mm-hmm," Wolfe replied, "and once he does die, Ponder Stibbons will take over. He basically runs the place now so once he becomes Archchancellor the rest will be so used to it that I don't imagine there will be any attempt to restart the old Dead Men's Pointy-Toes Shoes policy--if only because the rest of the Senior Faculty has become so lazy they won't be bothered. Anyway,

Monsieur le Marquis

, have the

chef de travail

let me know when I should come for a visit. Next year's prices should be

correct

!"

*****

The Year of the Moribund Aardvark had come to an end on the 16

th

of Ick and an Octaday later Unseen University and the Assassins' Guild School resumed classes. At the end of the first week seven students met at the Counterweight Palace for a festive dinner. Seated around a circular table with a lazy Susan laden with various dishes, the young people all stuffed themselves to repletion before finally deciding to use their mouths for something other than eating.

"And so," Wolfe continued after ending his tale of the holiday's events, "as soon as the vines start new growth, I'll have to dodge back through my Door home to go encourage the Marquis' vineyards. It will make a nice break from study."

"Is he, by any chance, paying you for the service?" Lethality Wiggs asked, "Because he certainly should."

Wolfe put his chopsticks down with a quizzical look on his face. "Uh, I didn't ask."

The other six all shook their heads pityingly.

"Wolfie," his sister Aranae said, "you are about to be co-director of the Sto Plains Agro-mancy Experiment Station. That is no small distinction and it makes you a non-small person. Your time will be valuable and anyone who wants a piece of it should have to pay for it--handsomely."

Wolfe was slightly shocked. His annoying little sister was actually paying him a compliment. Damn, she was growing up. What a pleasant surprise.

"But," he protested, "riding all over Quirm encouraging vineyards will take up a lot of time and I am going to have to help Father run ours. I won't have time to go all over the country acting as a hedge-wizardry consultant."

"Well now," Aranae's face broke into a conspiratory grin, "that may not necessarily be the case. One, use a flying carpet. That way you can go directly point to point and not have to follow the local winding roads--plus it's faster than a horse. Two,

Mme. le Marquise de Aix en Pains

has two sons. Antoine is the elder; he's the Heir. Fernan, the younger, is the Spare. He's at school with me. He's a nice boy and we have fun talking the local

patois de maquis

to each other so that even other native Quirmians can't understand us. If I marry him, he could become the estate manager for Chateau Woodbead leaving you free to do research and consulting."

Lethality's eyes grew wide. "By Io, Aranae, that's brilliant. Your dad had to learn viticulture and winemaking but Fernan grew up with it."

"Mm-hmm. His family has been on those acres and in that life for centuries. He didn't so much learn it as inhale it with every breath from the day he was born. Chateau Woodbead would be in excellent hands, especially with my magical big brother giving the vines a benevolent pat on the leaves every year. The

marque

will become famous Disc-wide."

"We'll get rich." Wolfe was gobsmacked, "or should I say even richer. I think you better tell Mom and let her initiate negotiations.

Madame le Marquise

is a native Ankh-Morporkian and her good friend. If you think he's a 'nice boy' this is a highly feasible idea."

"Better than using fireballs to inhume clients?"

Penelope Ogg, M. Thau, put a fond hand on Aranae's shoulder.

"Much better. And more civilized. Girl, I'm going to need to hang around you more. Your outlook on life is so much better than mine was at your age. It--it's wonderful."

She began to sniffle softly from happiness.

*****

That evening Penny returned to her apartment and told the Bogey who lived under her bed about the evening's conversation. As she reached the end she began to cry again.

"It's all--all so wonderful," she sobbed, "When I left Lancre I was utterly miserable because I couldn't get my ability to work right so they told me to leave. Then I got to Unseen and that idiot Galway told me I couldn't come in because I was a girl and tried to physically push me out the door. Since I didn't have anywhere else to go I lost it and scorched him. It was when Wiggleigh kindly spoke to me and took me to see the Archchancellor that things began to turn around. And now I'm Faculty and engaged to the Vice Chancellor's second cousin and all of our friends are getting married, too. And everyone's life is going to be so happy and--and..."

She broke down completely.

Velvel crawled out from under the bed and sat on the floor next to her. Lifting her like a kitten he settled her gently on his lap and began to stroke her back with enormous fingers. She took two handfuls of the fur on his front and buried her face in his chest and sobbed happily until the emotional storm passed. Finally she pulled a handkerchief out of nowhere and wiped her eyes and them smiled up at her roommate's huge face.

"Better now?" the Bogey asked.

"Mm-hmm. I must have been holding it in for all the last years. You know I even got a letter from Uncle Shawn where he said that the whole family and even the king and queen are really very proud of me, now, and they congratulated me on becoming Faculty here? I'm--I'm just so happy!"

"Well, good. And all the rest of us are happy that now you are happy, too. Schleppel says that from the day you arrived the Archchancellor and the Vice Chancellor had the whole campus on alert to see to it that you were never unhappy again. You can be an extremely dangerous young woman, Penelope Ogg, and not only are you better off when you are happy but so is everyone else. It's a good thing it was Galway you turned into a smoking crater because no one could stand him, anyway. Probably the whole undergraduate class and maybe even the entire staff that year took it as an object lesson. Better manners for everyone else and a much better off girl wizard. Now, go take a shower and wash and dry your hair. It's time for you to go to bed and for me to go down in the basement and go hunting with Schleppel. Good night, Penny, and have pleasant dreams."

"Good night, Velvel. And thank-you."

*****

The Marquise de Aix en Pains sat on the veranda of Chateau Woodbead with a chilled glass of Three Wizards Chardonnay in her hand. She was feeling amusingly conspiratory.

"So dear Aranae has eyes on our Fernan? I think that's delightfully romantic."

Lady Sinestra rolled her eyes. "If it was anyone but Aranae, it probably would be romantic but I know my daughter too well to believe that. In her words, 'he's a nice boy and knows the wine business inside and out'. The girl is thinking pragmatically. She and Fernan are friends and he would bring skills to Chateau Woodbead that will augment my husband's endeavors while letting my son pursue his research and his new consulting business. Having Chateau Woodbead prosper is beneficial to her comfort and so she is taking the easy way to ensure that it does. Men are really quite simple creatures, after all. Keep them warm, well fed and erotically entertained and they will do anything you want. She knows that and believes that she can manage Fernan skillfully enough to benefit them both. I fear Romance has little to do with it."

Mme. Le Marquise laughed merrily. "Ah then, she is a true child of Ankh-Morpork despite being born and raised in Quirm. Does she perhaps take after her mother's side of the family?"

Sinestra smiled ruefully. "I'm not sure. Baldor's and my courtship was so fraught with resentment and attempted violence that finally the Patrician had to step in and insist that we knock it off. And once hatred had been forbidden and indifference was impossible the only emotion left felt like love. I was so confused--but in the end things have worked out very, very well. So where does Aranae get this cool, clear-eyed attitude from? I really haven't a clue. It's probably from her father's side. Poor families don't climb the social order by wishful thinking. Baldor and his uncle both fought to get into the Guild to advance themselves. His uncle succeeded by becoming a senior Dark Clerk and my husband by beating the stuffing out of an obnoxious classmate but

not

killing him. The Headmaster was so impressed that he was promoted to full-status student and the rest is history."

Mme. Le Marquise kept giggling. "Well then this benefits them both, even if it is more practical than Romantic. Fernan won't have to risk failing the Final Exam and leaving the school in a casket if he marries Aranae. Our

Châteaux

will be allied. This will benefit Aranae and her children, however many she decides to have, and Antoine will benefit by having a hedge wizard as a brother-in-law. There is much to be said for being a cadet branch of a family as prominent as ours and just as much to be said for a prominent family acquiring new blood and talent. Still, they are only sixteen so we have plenty of time to arrange matters. As Aranae said, Fernan is a nice boy. He is also sensible and will see that this is only to his advantage and, besides, he likes her. Let us draw up a contract for them; it is the aristocratic way, after all."

*****

Wolfe, young Sam and Consideration sat around a fresh pile of vegetation. It was an experiment to see if they could speed up the composting process, an experiment that Modo the gardener had serious doubts about. To mollify the dwarf, Connie had an open bottle of wow-wow sauce on the ground next to him as a sort of ready-at-hand-grenade if the heap got unmanageable. It had happened once before and wow-wow had proved the proper cure, though the resulting mess had taken a week to clean up.

Penny had taken a break from her writing and wondered over to see what her fiancé was up to. When she saw what it was, she froze. She remembered the story of the renegade compost heap from years earlier and didn't like what she saw. Steam began to rise from the heap and then, with it, green, grassy tendrils. Suddenly the mass rose up with a gigantic 'SCHLURP'.

"Oh shit!"

Connie grabbed his bottle as all three dove away and started to run. Just as he turned to fling the wow-wow into the heap there was the huge 'PFOOMP' of a major fireball and where the heap had been was now nothing but a smoking crater.

"You guys okay?" Penny asked anxiously.

"We are now," they all said with relieved sighs, "thanks to you. Penelope Ogg you are a lifesaver!"

All three of them took turns lifting her off the ground and twirling her around in a tight hug, leaving her red-faced and grinning. Connie was the last to pick her up and as he did she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck and lay her head on his shoulder.

"Well," she panted, "I can't let some eldritch muck pile gobble up my fiancé, can I?"

Wolfe grinned. "Hey, if there has to be an extremely dangerous girl around, it's always good to have her on our side!"

Sammy nodded. "And from now on, if Modo suggests that something related to compost is probably a bad idea, we should pay better attention. Some processes ought to be left natural, perhaps. Not everything is improved by Magic."

"Yeah," Wolfe replied, "it has a sort of a mind of its own and it isn't friendly. How often have we heard that?"

Connie snorted. "But did we listen? No, we didn't. But it wasn't like we were using a lot of it on the heap so it seemed safe. Obviously it was not."

He kissed Penny soundly.

"Fortunately, we had backup. Come on, it's almost time for First Luncheon."

*****

The View From the Under the Bed: A Bogey's Life,

Penny's dissertation, not only earned her a D.C.L (Doctor of Civil Lore) but turned out to be a surprise best seller. She had been right all along; people did believe reading about the outlooks of the Differently Alive was interesting. Hastor Thumbfinger was one of the first of the students to read it.

"Gosh, Penny, your book makes me wish I had had a Bogey under my bed when I was growing up, especially one like Velvel."

Penny slowly turned and fixed him with a silent, piercing stare.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm going to have to write another book, a children's story. Little ones are always worried about monsters under their beds but the monsters, at least the Bogeys, never hurt anyone. It's not fair for them to be chased away when all they want is dark place to live. They are far too shy to bother anyone, at least the anyone on top of the bed."

Hastor nodded. "You're going to need to find an illustrator and you'll need to take Velvel along for them to use as a model. According to your book, Bogeys are just big and furry, kind of like giant people with huge hands and covered in soft hair. Do they feel more like dogs or cats or bears?"

"Mostly like cats, short-haired cats. Velvel has picked me up a couple of times and held me on his lap when I was upset or needed comforting. Don't tell Connie but one of the reasons I intend to keep my apartment at UU after we get married is that I would miss having Velvel under the bed. If someone told me I would have to choose between Velvel and Connie, I'd--I'd scorch them! I love Connie but Velvel is my best friend. I'm not leaving him."

Hastor cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "Let's consider this. You go down to the Guild of Artists and Limners and find someone to sympathetically depict Bogeys. Parents who have read your dissertation buy the kiddies' book for their children and the brats, especially from rich families, start demanding a Bogey of their own. Now there's a problem. Bogeys aren't the sort of thing you can just pop into a pet-shop and take home. They are intelligent individuals with very long lives--just like all the rest of the Differently Alive. They would have to be hired, for wages. How would that go down? Can you put up a poster in Biers advertising for Bogeys to help get toddlers through to adolescence? Given how long Bogeys live, might one become 'an old family retainer' through multiple generations? Think about this."

Copying a gesture common to the Stibbons family, Penny curled her fingers and blew through them thoughtfully. In silence she blinked several times.

"That's a very good point. I'm going to have to ask Velvel and Schleppel if it's possible. I can imagine a Selachii, a Pontefract or a Rust family hiring a Bogey to sleep under the youngest's bed in the daytime and then, once the kiddo is asleep, to sneak downstairs to the basement to hunt the rodents in the larder at night. Would that mean 'lodging and meals' were part of the employ?"

"

I

think that before the book goes to the publisher, you need to run this by not only your friends the Bogeys, but by Mr. Thunderbolt down at Morecombe, Slant and Honeyplace. How does a species as ephemeral as ours employ one as durable as theirs? It's a genuine conundrum."

"Yes, yes it is..."

*****

Thunderbolt's copy of

The View From Under the Bed

sat on his desk as he thumbed through the pages of a manuscript tentatively entitled

Bogey and Me.

He looked up at the dark void sitting in the troll sized chair in his office and asked, "You and your people actually believe that this is a good idea?"

"Strange as it may seem to other species," Velvel replied, "we honestly do. We are a surprisingly timorous folk but because we are large and hairy and much prefer staying in the dark of children's closets and underneath their beds to going about our business in broad daylight we have historically been feared. After all, we are the anthropomorphic personification of the Fear of the Dark. But there is no reason that we should be. Schleppel and I have become fond of Penelope and find ourselves proud of her maturation and her accomplishments. She has been good to us and we, in turn, have helped and, when needed, comforted her. Caring for young humans somehow comes naturally. Perhaps first Bogey eventually became the Tooth Fairy because he wanted to keep children safe from those who would use their discarded baby teeth to do them magical harm. It's in our nature.