The last embers….
A bit of a drabble set in the immediate aftermath of Snuff. This is going to be another of those unfinished tales – I can see this scene so clearly that it has to be written. I can see where it goes. I can't see how it finishes. Re-written several times so it it fits the necessary canon and fanon continuities. Especially so it sits in with my concept of Howondaland, in which an uneasy peace exists between Rimwards Howondaland (not quite South Africa, as it used to be) Kwa'Zululand, the powerful independent black state that on our world the Zulu Empire might have evolved into had it remained independent) and Matabelelland (a metaphor for all that is worst , corrupt and most venal in Black Africa - a reminder that not just the White South Africans were culpable of bad behaviour. Think corrupt officials at all levels, bribery, venality, and Nigeria's particular problem with the Code 419 scam.)
Lord Vetinari studied the guests he had invited to a very discreet and potentially deniable meeting in the Oblong Office. Commander Vimes, Lord Downey, several foreign ambassadors, and a group of select individuals who had a growing reputation as fixers, doers, and arrangers.
"Minute this meeting selectively, please, Drumknott." Vetinari commanded. "There must be a record that a meeting happened, and a decision with international implications was arrived at between myself and five ambassadors, three of whom represent neighbouring countries in Howondaland. Concerning a certain situation which has so far caused a great deal of embarrassment to all of our nations."
"And the principal architect of the embarrassment has been allowed to walk free by Ankh-Morpork and he may have returned to Howondaland." The Matabelelandian Ambassador, who was new to his post, spoke frankly. "For which we thank you."
"Exiled!" growled Sam Vimes, who still rankled that the Number One Suspect had been too politically hot to arrest and slam in the Tanty for multiple crimes. "Not freed!"
Vetinari sighed.
"I assure you, Mr Ambassador, my hands were tied and my options were limited. After His Grace reported to me there was a major criminal situation involving Ankh-Morporkian nationals who were very careful to observe the law within this city and its environs whilst committing the bulk of their crimes overseas. So keen was the perpetrator to commit no crime on this continent that he suborned the Magistrates of the Shires, and got them to rewrite the law so that an atrocity necessary for his scheme did not count as a crime. Obviously, once the crime was uncovered it had to be dealt with. But, just perhaps, we might all have been happier had the Duke not been quite so assiduous in his police-work."
"Except for the goblins…" Vimes muttered. Other people in the room, aware of his reputation, turned to look at him.
"Indeed, Sir Samuel. And therein lies the difficulty." Said Vetinari. "I think we are all agreed that in future there will be no repetition. Now it is clearly, consensually, agreed that the goblin race is included in the continuum of sentient species who co-exist on our Discworld, and all right-minded governments are rushing to confirm that their statute and common law recognises this. That is your achievement, Sir Samuel, that the killing of a goblin is now to be thought of as murder and not as vermin-disposal. But as I also made clear at the time, the due process of law means that a law applied today cannot be used to arrest the perpetrator of an action committed yesterday, when no such law applied and his actions were legal. However much of an affront they might have been to ethics or morality or common decency."
"So your reply to the Diamond King is "no?"
The voice was a gravelly rumble. It evoked the first stones rumbling down a mountainside that will become an avalanche, with consequent detrimental effect on anyone standing underneath. Vetinari looked upwards to the speaker.
"As is my reply to the Low King, who has taken it on himself to offer right of asylum to another underground-dwelling species with whom the Dwarfs have always shared a common history." he said. "I am sorry, Prince Corundum, if this is not the answer the Diamond King wishes to hear."
Corundum, the Ambassador of the Diamond Kingdom of the Trolls, a troll who stood only one step down from the Diamond King himself, nodded acknowledgment and remained impassive.
Low King Rhys's Ambassador to Ankh-Morpork, Grim Grimssgrandsson, looked up into the polished stony face, then at Vetinari's smooth polished mask, and said nothing. The Low King was as keen as his Troll opposite to see justice done to a human who had brought death underground, and had made a similar carefully phrased diplomatic request to the Patrician.
"Besides, I cannot extradite the man to face trial by anyone as, regrettably, he has chosen the fugitive's route."
Vimes adopted his policeman face. He knew the two real reasons why Gravid Rust had fled the city in a hurry. Vetinari had pointed out that any attempt to arrest the son of a leading nobleman for crimes committed outside his jurisdiction would lead to all the leading noble families closing ranks against him. Vetinari had not been sure if his grasp of the Patricianate would survive that. In fact, it would go against the very careful way in which he had sought to divide any potential opposition and keep it divided. The last thing he wanted to do was to offer his noble rivals a common reason to unite against him.
Consequently, and in order to publicly show clemency and sensitivity to the wishes of the old Lord Rust, now a harmless invalid, Gravid Rust had been visited by night by Dark Clerks and an offer had been made: he had twenty-four hours to leave the city to a destination of his own choice. Therefore there was no longer a corpus to habeaus in the direction of either Diamond King nor Low King. Vetinari could therefore refuse both and be seen as favouring neither.
But this was now developing into a major international situation. All due to Vimes' diligent police work in the Shires, the debateable territory between Ankh-Morpork and Quirm.
And it had a dimension that stretched a long way outside the Central Continent: three of the summoned Ambassadors were human. They were from Howondaland. And to an Ambassador, they were worried men. Primarily, they were worried about what their respective Governments would say when the grim reality of Gravid Rust's slave plantations got back to them. A future where the displeasure of Ankh-Morpork might be expressed as less preferential rates on loans, loss of Most Favoured Trading Nation status, with a return to import controls and restrictions, and re-introduction of certain taxes.
Most crucially for two Ambassadors, Vetinari had genially expressed awareness of the existance of certain numbered acounts at the Royal Bank and that he knew exactly which Paramount Kings and Princes had established them and kept them topped up, just in case they ever had to leave Howondaland in a hurry. Although he, Vetinari, was quite sure none of the money had been diverted from overseas aid and development donations from richer nations, and that the rumours of charitable aid money being skimmed by highly placed government officials when it arrived in the continent were just scurrilous and base slanders. And how is your other brother, the Paramount Prince, settling into his new job as Finance Minister, by the way? Capital, pleased to hear it!
The third Ambassador, the representative of White Howondaland, was also aware his country was accepted on sufferance by Ankh-Morpork. Granted his people were the descendants of white settlers from the Central Continent, and the powerful city had a kinship with them on a par with that it acknowledged towards Fourecks, the Foggy Islands and Aceria. But Vetinari had remarked that the other three ex-colonies also had their own populations of non-white natives, who these days were happily treated as free and equal citizens. Rimwards Howondland was unique in its social system of apartheid, the deliberate and legally sanctioned system of racial seperation between whites and blacks. Some things may be overlooked for the present so long as we have you as an ally to counterbalance Klatchian sponsorship of your neighbouring states. But tomorrow, who knows?
No, each of the three was hoping against hope that wherever in Howondaland Rust had established his slave farms, it was in the sovereign territory of one of the others. And therefore not only not his problem, but something to use as a propaganda weapon in ongoing mutual mistrust and hostility.
Pieter van der Graaf, of Rimwards Howondaland, tentatively broke the silence.
"End your people are not eble to identify wherebouts in Howondaland the slave farms are, my Lord?" he asked.
Vetinari shook his head.
"Investigations proceed". he said. "I understand that Mr Wee Mad Arthur used a form of transportation known only to the race of the Nac Mac Feegle which enabled him to arrive there virtually instantaneously. A remarkable magical skill, but even allowing for that, the Feegle are not a race noted for their grasp of political geography. All he was able to ascertain was that the latifundia he visited was situated on a belt of cleared land between the jungle forest and a nearby coast. Which could, of course, be any one of your three nations. Here he found a group of living goblins and a small detail of villainous overseers. He did not think to capture one to return to this city for detailed interrogation. In any case, the aerial mount he was riding could not have taken the weight."
"You should worry most, Pieter." said the Matebele ambassador. "I hear the Rust family bought a holiday home in your country because they appreciated the pleasant warm climate and your nation's, ah, robust attitude towards its servant classes. As like calls to like, could it be that Gravid Rust made friends with a Boor farmer who was prepared to take apartheid that logical one step further?"
Pieter van der Graaf shifted in his seat and a slight red flush suffused his neck.
"Or else, Benjamin, he might have struck up a deal with a Paramount Prince who egreed to facilitate his need for lend, end who egreed to esk no questions in return for a percentage of the profits? Efter ell, your nation's main export trade eppears to be those spurious clecks messages seeking to separate the greedy from their cash? The Code 419's?"
Vimes grinned, appreciatively. Code 419's were beginning to be a nuisance in the city. Somebody who understood the Ankh-Morporkian mentality had learnt to exploit the tendency of its citizens to seek something for nothing and had come up with a quite brilliant scam worthy of Moist von Lipwig. Randomly selected citizens received a clacks mesage out of the blue purporting to be from a highly placed citizen in Matabeleland who was seeking a friend of honour and integrity to help illegally export a lot of cash out of Howondaland. Of course, your name was mentioned as that man of integrity and honour. All I require to facilitate the passage of a million dollars out of Howondaland are the details of a bank account, perhaps yours, into which I can transfer this money, in return for which ten per cent will be yours... Vimes had seen the little flaw in this argument straight away, which was more than could be said for many citizens who had awoken the next day to discover an empty bank account. With the help of Moist von Lipwig, arrests had been made of previously penniless Matabelelandians who were suddenly flashing the cash as if there were no tomorrow.
Vetinari remained ominously silent. As the squabble between the ambassadors ended, he said
"Investigations, however, proceed. I am pleased nobody has placed a protest with me concerning violation of their nation's airspace and incursions on its territorial integrity by agents of Ankh-Morpork. Although such a protest would have definitely established in whose territory the slave farms were established.
Constable Arthur of the City Watch has now facilitated the transition of medical teams who are in Howondaland for purely humanitarian reasons. I trust nobody will object to that? I have, of course, also despatched a small squad of Watchmen to ensure the local security of the locations in question and detain any former guards for interrogation. Which I believe is sanctioned under agreed international policing convention? My team includes Inspector Pessimal and Professor Stibbons from Unseen University, who will be surveying and making observations that will define the exact location of the slave-farm."
Vimes looked round the faces of the three Howondalandian ambassadors, two black and one white.
Who's worried? Damn it, they all are. They're all hoping like hell it's not them. And they've heard about Pessimal's talent for cracking difficult cases. And Stibbons' ability to rise to a scientific challenge. And he's got another bloody good reason to want to go to Howondaland on personal business...
The thought led Vimes to look to the other group of people present in the room, who so far had remained impassively silent. A nasty little suspicion was forming about why Lord Downey and a small, elite, group of career Assassins were present.
"We can, I think, discuss any implications later, after we discover from whose sovereign territory Rust was operating. We do not even know the nation yet, let alone whether there was active collusion from its government or government representatives. Judging by the reactions of you three gentlemen, this came as a nasty surprise to all of you."
Vetinari paused, letting the implications sink in.
"I have assured the older Lord Rust that his son will be free from legal retribution were he to accept exile from this city. I wish to spare him any further anguish. After all, he has been forced to disinherit his son, and the Rust line must now proceed through his daughters. Unless Gravid fathers a son who can be accepted back into the family, this is the end of the Rust line. He has four daughters. I understand Lady Regina now inherits." He paused for a moment, and added
"Capable though she is, she is of an age not to have been able to study at the Assassins' Guild School. The Quirm Academy for Young Ladies did its usual thorough job in educating her, but I do not think it taught the, er, additional skills her younger sister Lucinda, now the next in line, learnt at the Assassins' School. now the Rust line of ascencion is open, Lucinda's especial characteristics of drive, ambition, and ruthlessness may come to the fore."
Vetinari quietly noted the shudders of at least one Assassin present, who would have sought to educate Lucinda Rust. It took a lot to make Assassins blanch. Teaching a Rust for seven years would do it.
"And she has knowledge of Howondaland, my lord." said Lord Downey. "She was set the task of finding her way home from there, as an alternative method of graduating from the School. It took her a year."(1)
Vimes pondered. A vicious little cow like Lucinda would have passed through the Howondalandian jungle. Did Gravid, an indolent, lazy, bully, get the idea from her? Was there more than one Rust involved?
"Which is where you come in." Vetinari said. "I am proposing an alternative strategy which can be discussed here, discreetly, without the older Lord Rust being aware. He has been given no more than a year to live, after all, and I would like his passing to be tranquil with no further disappointments or indignities being loaded onto him."
Vetinari paused, as if marking the passing of another former enemy who could now be treated with courtesy and generosity, as his days of being a threat had passed.
"I will be frank with you all. A factor in my deliberations over this case has been the sure and certain knowledge that if I openly move against one noble house and hang the son, however well-deserved a death sentence is, then all noble houses in this city will perceive a threat to their privileges and unite against me. This would jeopardise all I, and Sir Samuel, have striven to bring about in this city, and represent a return to feudal law that serves nobody's interests and would destabilise the wider world.
"The old families indicated they would accept exile. So a legal sentence of exile was passed and Gravid Rust has left the city. Although Fourecks remains a possibility, that country is developing very effective law enforcement systems, and its High Commissioner repeatedly complains to me about Ankh-Morpork's tendency to use it as a dumping-ground for its criminals."
Vetinari sighed.
"Even though the white population of Fourecks largely descends from unwanted elements transported there by previous Patricians over several hundred years, the modern Fourecksians do not like to be reminded of this. (2)So if Gravid is not allowed entry to that nation, the alternative is Howondaland, where the family has holdings in more than one nation."
The Patrician steepled his fingers.
"This has been an unsatisfactory compromise. It has directly led to today's worsening of relations with both the Diamond king and the Low King. I regret that."
"Low King Rhys appreciates your difficulties" the Dwarf Ambassador said, sympathetically. "He asked me to confirm he still holds you in the highest regard personally."
Vetinari nodded acknowledgement and steepled his fingers.
"Having sought to satisfy the law, may I now move towards satisfying justice?" Vetinari asked. "Lord Downey, I note that the people you have chosen are uniquely suited for a task I am going to call on you to complete."
Downey smiled.
"I anticipated the nature of your request, my lord. I propose that my operatives start for Fourecks and Howondaland with minimal delay, and begin the search for The Honourable Gravid. We are also aware that Lady Lucinda has also left the Central Continent in something of a hurry. She may have anticipated a response like this, and may well be seeking to bodyguard her brother. When we know which direction she has travelled in, and reminded her about her Assassin's honour, we will have a better picture of where to focus our responses."
"So only your very best Assassins, then." Vetinari said. "But I note the successes Miss Smith-Rhodes and Miss N'Kweze have had, working together as a team. There would be bars to their working together in Howondaland, no doubt?"
"Miss N'Kweze would not get en entry visa into Rimwards Howondaland." said Pieter van der Graaf. "I can see no circumstances et ell. And to enter our country under eny other guise means no mercy if she is caught."
He stared out Miss Ruth N'Kweze, an Assasin of Zulu nationality, who stared levelly back. She had once successfully infiltrated the Embassy on a Guild assignment.(3) Pieter van der Graaf had never forgotten.
Her uncle, the Kwa'Zulu Ambassador, found it necessary to speak.
"My brother, the Paramount King, has issued an edict that names Miss Smith-Rhodes for the murder of our brother.(4) He has decreed that should she ever enter Kwa'Zululand, her life will be forfeit. Although he is merciful and will grant her a warrior's death."
Johanna Smith-Rhodes, who had once inhumed with extreme prejudice in Kwa'Zululand, returned the look.
"Sir, if I ever have cause to enter your nation, It will be with a full kommando et my beck!" she said, proudly. "I em still an officer of the netional ermy end subject to recall! I wish your brother luck in detaining me. I hope he will consider it worth the cesuaelties. "
"So the team is temporarily broken up, then" Lord Downey said, regretfully.
"Insurmountable difficulties appear to apply." Vetinari agreed.
"But in principle we can infiltrate at least four Howondalandian-born Assassins into the continent with instructions to locate Gravid Rust and not only remove an embarrassment, but ensure justice is adequately done. Is this a course of action the Low King and Diamond King of the Trolls would accept as testimony of our good intentions? We can also allow the Assassins full licence to stamp out any other slave farms they may discover and let it be known by their actions that Ankh Morpork views such institutions with extreme prejudice."
"Even if Gravid Rust is not there, my people will still be able to perfom a service for which they are fully trained and able." Downey agreed. "And I understand Miss O'Hagan and Mr Nolan will be working with an operative based at the Embassy in Bugarup."
"No worries, your Lordship!" Darleen O'Hagan said, grinning. This was her first big mission after graduating as an Assassin, and the icing on the cake was that it involved an expenses-paid trip home to Fourecks.
"Oh yes." Vetinari agreed, as if remembering something. "Arachne. I recall she begged me for a posting to a location with exotic wildlife. Having read her school reports from the Guild, I recognised a young lady of exceptional, if specialised, interests, and was able to accomodate her."
"Erechne Webber." Johanna said, suddenly the teacher who had written some of those glowing reports. "I offered her the position of Curator of Erechnids et the Zoo. She was a brilliant pupil, my lord."
Johanna taught zoology and natural science, the Assassin way. Students under her guidance cultivated and maintained an impressive array of poisonous spiders, insects, scorpions, lizards and other interesting fauna. Arachne Webber had been a particularly talented student with a passion for spiders. Johnna had noted, without rancour and with some pride, that her student's knowledge of spiders had very soon outstripped her own. For a teacher, this makes it all worthwhile. Posting her to a country which had even more species of poisonous spiders and insects than her own native Rimwards Howondaland was, to Johanna, logical and rewarding, especially since regular crates arrived at the Guild containing live animal specimens to supplement its collection. The Post Office was not greatly happy about this, but Johanna had pointed out the Royal Mail prided itself on its ability to deliver anything anywhere despite all the obstacles that could be thrown at it.
"Indeed. And if a visitor to Fourecks who was, alas, ill-informed concerning the lethality of the native fauna were to find a funnel-web spider under the toilet seat, perchance, it would be a sad accident that could not in any way be blamed upon the Guild of Assassins."
"And any payment to Arachne afterwards would be simply a normal bonus to an able diplomat." Downey agreed. "With, of course, a corresponding introduction fee to the Guild as acknowledgement of our having trained her for Government service."
Another Assassin spoke up.
"Any of us can inhume. It takes an expert to arrange a convincing accident, my lord."
"Indeed, Canon, Indeed."
The Reverend Clement N'Effabl, Zulu-born, was a qualifed Assassin and a priest of Blind Io. He was Assassins' Guild Chaplain. He was also high in the counsel of High Priest Ridcully. It was suspected that occassionally, he had administered the Last Rites on behalf of his church.
"So we are agreed, then. Miss O'Hagan and Mr Nolan travel to Fourecks. Howondaland poses certain operational problems, but I will temporarily give Miss Smith-Rhodes and Miss van Kruger diplomatic accreditation pointing out they are acting directly and expressly as my agents, and I would take it amiss if they were unduly detained in Black Howondaland."
Vetinari nodded at both black Ambassadors, who very reluctantly accepted a diplomat cannot be normally arrested or detained and is outside the law of the host nation.
I accept that Canon N'Effabl and Miss N'Kweze are unable to enter Rimwards Howondaland, as its government is inflexible on the issue of Assassins with Zulu nationality crossing its borders. In any case, the, er, racial classification laws would make it impossible for them to operate freely in that nation.
"Both parties will be transported to their destinations by Constable Arthur, who has been crow-stepping quite a lot over the past few days."
"I beleive the Feegle term is craw-stepping, my lord" Drumknott said, diffidently.
"Indeed, Drumknott. The Howondalandian teams will travel with a relief Watch detail to the central base we have established, and then split up to their respective destinations. Ladies and gentlemen, you have twelve hours to organise yourselves and pack for the trip. Good luck and good hunting!"
Johanna and Heidi van Kruger grinned at each other. They were going home. And without a five-week voyage.
And Ponder's already over there, Johanna thought. I wonder if I can make time to introduce him to my parents?
Vimes grinned to himself.
"While you're over there, ladies, if you can arrest the Marquis of Fantailer and bring him back? Especially you, Johanna, you're one of my Specials!"
She smiled. "Give me a description. If I see him, he's yours!"
(1) See my story The Graduation Class, in which Lucinda Rust's Final Run becomes a marathon.
(2) I have established a mechanism for this in other stories: a nasty and wily Patrician reasoned that if things could get into the mysterious continent of XXXX but were unable to get out again, it made it the perfect prison. therefore barely seaworthy hulks were loaded with prisoners, towed to the safe limit outside XXXX, and given a little push that drew them in... if they survived the anticyclone, they were prisoners for life.
(3) See my story Murder Most 'Orrible in which a student Assassin called ruth N'Kweze perfroms a necessary deception.
(4) See my story The Graduation Class, in which the back-story of a much younger Johanna is described.