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Septimus Downey was a prudent man, although he was not famed with it. Everyone knew he was a skirt chaser, fastidious man with heterogeneous interests, and mostly, extremely gifted Head of the Assassins Guild.

Yes, there were many good Presidents of the Guild before his time. Numerous of elders remembered some of their names, mostly stories they were involved. However, they had fewer duties, the political situation was easier, and the time was different. The Assassins Guild had transformed a few years earlier, since its manager, Dr. Septimus Downey had passed the supervisory control to the Supreme counsel, assembling twice a year. It became the body of electors, pointing the next few candidates for the Presidency. It was Dr. Downey's personal achievement. He had planned it for years. There were too many people thinking he had reached too much power. There was something to be done.

He never lost any election. That was a sign for those thinking his influence was becoming weaker because of the Council. Dr. Downey was a practical man. He did not have to demonstrate it in everyone's eyes.

He had a name of a cold-blooded man nevertheless of the situation he was put in. Most of the circumstances, anyway. However, what he had experienced that night was too much even for him. When he returned home, his wife fell into a happy hysteria, hugging and kissing him, explaining how worried she was, how many people she had pressed in order to find him. He never used to lie to his wife. Now he had to. He had the chance to appear home with Sir Andrew. It was a suitable explanation: he was working, as ever, very hard. Sir Andrew's colourless face almost betrayed him. That man had no spirit for this kind of things.

He was still exhausted when he went to the Obscure office. He seated in his stool and took a deep breath. Than buried his head into his palms and tried not to think about the night he had. There was a knock on the door. His clerk entered trying not to mention his master's appearance. He put some files on his desk and a cup of hot tea, and then moved back.

'Mr. Sprat is here, Sir, as you demanded.'

Downey looked at him briefly and answered in a tired voice: 'Let him in, Scruples.' He manoeuvred back in his chair and stared at the young assassin's face.

Mr. Eugene Sprat was a good-looking and very severe man. He had the name of a prosperous professional with huge practice, nevertheless of his age. He returned from Klach few years ago. He was thirty-seven then, but his name was heard further than any else assassin's.

He stepped inside the Obscure office and sat on the chair opposite Downey's. He knew what he was here for. That meant that his predecessors had failed. Again. He had a reputation of "the final chance". When someone gives way at the bottom, he has to do his job. That was the main source of his wealth. Being the last chance is expensive affair. He knew some details of the job, but thought that his intervention would not be required at this point. He was wrong. It looks like the object was too skilled to oppose Sir Andrew's mastership. He felt quite intrigued. The object was introduced to him at the pre-wedding occasion. He was fascinated by its charm and manners. Who could suspect such fairy woman to be the best general Quart had ever had.

Mr. Sprat took the note from Dr. Downey's shivering hand and put a respectful look at it. It was a matter of manners. Then he creased it and put it in his pocket.

'The job should be done before the ceremony.' Dr. Downey had a strange flicker in his eyes. 'Unfortunately you have not enough time, I am sorry for this inconvenience, but I truly hope you would be able to carry out that tricky peace of work.'

'I hope so, sir.' Answered Eugene and moved up.

'Your predecessor had not luck; nevertheless he is one of the best professionals I know.' Dr. Downey lifted up and came closer, put his hands on Mr. Sprat's shoulder, and murmured: 'I have convinced myself that you have a rare talent, my boy. You have not failed in any task you had since you came back to Ankh-Morpork. I really hope it would not be the last time we use your services.'

He led the young assassin to the door and took the door handle to open. Then stood motionless and turned his face to Mr. Sprat's. There was a shadow of something inhuman in his eyes. Downey leaned against the door.

'Do me a favour, young man', he said. 'Do the job precisely and… delicately. I want the world to see… your success. This is going to be the job in people's tongs for years. That would be your invitation to the big world, my boy.'

He opened the door and led the assassin out. Sprat's eyes were too astonished even to blink. He stared at the President's face without saying a word. Downey moved the door shut. Before it closed, he whispered again: 'Don't lose your head. Just do what you have to.'

---

Lord Stephen stepped inside the carriage. He put on his formal uniform. He hated it. There was too many gold and medals, and less places the fabric's colour to see. His Royal Majesty King Petromus already sat inside. He was nervous, although not he would wed in half hour. Sir Thodeas and his mistress preferred the everyday carriage. Madam Sarah was worried. She had the strange feeling she should not leave the Embassy.

She had the chance to visit the patient early in the morning. She was awake, still speechless and very angry. She said she was feeling fine, but Sarah was most famous with her premonitions. Yet she ordered the servants to inspect her from time to time.

Lord Stephen was nervous. He knew the day of his wedding would come soon or later, but he had the weird idea that there would something happen and what would happen would miss him within gunshot. When he woke up this morning, he had the reality's slap on his face. He smelled the coffee of life – it was about time.

They had to be in time in the temple. The coachman sped up.

People surrounded the Om's temple. There were coaches parked everywhere. The guards regulated what they could, although they had been Morporkians too. Captain Carrot's troops put some sort of system in the movement, despite of everything the crowd was doing to get a better position to oversee. Commander Vimes was at the door. When the smaiilian's carriage stopped, he opened the door and darted at the groom.

'You are late!'

Lord Stephen nodded in approval and get out, standing by his side. King Petromus joined them shortly, pulled his tunic to its right position and followed them in.

The Big hall of Om's temple was the biggest in Ankh-Morpork. It was so large, that many years ago the Head priest decided to separate it with a wall. It turned into a big hall (for the ordinary people) and a smaller one (for the nobility). They were not much different from each other. The main distinction was that the small hall was nearer the altar, it was brighter and the nobles were aloud to smoke there. Because of the convenience of them both, they had two altars and two entrances. The aristocrats were different from the common people, after all. They had the opportunity not to meet the peasants, especially where they could not have the chance to kick someone in the leg, escaping his suppliant hands.

The auditorium was wide and well arranged. The seats, separated in two columns, were full. Vimes, leading the group, showed his disagreement with their presence. He was an aristocrat, but seven years earlier, he was a peasant too. He did not decide becoming a nobleman. It happened because Vetinari had the odd idea to make him angry the best way he could. By making him a part of the social group, he hated most. He looked at the crowd. Too many royals…

He sat at his place, on the first bench, near the bride's stool and took the hand of his wife. His eyes were fixed on the groom's side. Lord Stephen was nervous and it was obvious. After all, it was his wedding. King Petromus was standing left of his side, whispering something in his ear. The groom stood still and listened.

The crowd outside murmured. Vimes turned back to welcome His Lordship's arrival. Lord Havelock Vetinari passed closer and stood still behind the stools of the couple in front of the altar. His clerk Drumknott stood beside him, continuing his report. He gave Vetinari quill and held the papers, while he was signing them. The Patrician nodded to Vimes and the groom's side, then turned back to welcome the rest of the world, gathered here.

It could be said that the world really gathered here. Most of the royal families of the Disc had their representatives here. If you would like to meet some people from Whatanicefiord, for instance, you just should come at the wedding. The world gathered here. The Om's temple put together some of the richest nations on the Disc. Some of the dangerous countries. The rivals, the competitors, gathered here to oversee two nations producing their peace treaty into action. By sacrificing two people. It was always interesting to witness a sacrifice. After all, it is not you at the altar.

The Head priest came to his place and gathered his palms. It was a sign for quiet. It needed about a minute to make the auditorium impose silence. The hall fell into a pompous nervousness. The Head priest gave a sign to the man operating the organ. He pressed the keys. The music exploded, lifting everyone's hair up in unexpected surprise.

Lord Stephen looked back. The giant gate opened, letting the small red party enter.

---

Mr. Sprat took his position. The Amazons encircled the object all the time. He had the prime idea to use a knife, but it was impossible. The Amazons were best in close fight. He had to use something for a distant hit. There were two possible weapons: a crossbow and a mouth pipe. The crossbow and the mouth pipe had their negatives and positives. For a deadly distant hit, the crossbow was the preferable option. It was small, quick folding; the hit was powerful and deep. The lethality was guaranteed. On the other hand, the mouth pipe was more elegant and invisible. The arrows might be greased with poison, supplying the place of the deep hit. The effect was still death. The question was: what kind of death – fast and in everyone's eyes, or quiet and long…

He had certain orders: precise job… before the ceremony… That meant… He replaced hands and loaded the crossbow. It snapped. The two sides moved to their direction, stretching the bowstring. The assassin placed the arrow in its nest and put the crossbow in his sleeve. He moved down from his hiding place.

---

Lady Antonia passed closer. Her wedding gown shone in red lustre. Her long red train shuffled on the green marbled floor. She had a long red bridal veil over her face. It was a tradition, to show the world the bride's virginity, if there was such. She stepped slowly, like enjoying her position. The Amazons at her back followed her in a precise order. They all had their veils on. Lady Antonia stepped near her future husband and let him remove her red bridal veil. He looked at her pale face and smiled. She was as beautiful as never before. She tried to smile back, but no success. She turned back to Bettina, accompanying her to her stool. She was looking scared. It was seen she was crying. There are daughters, which mothers don't have to marry, because they couldn't live it. As soon Lady Antonia took her place, Bettina took her hand and kissed her. Then moved back and stood by the Patrician's side, mopping her eyes.

Lord Stephen sat beside her and asked for her hand. She subdued unwillingly. The Head Priest cleared his throat.

'Dear guests, we are gathered here to…'

---

Mr. Spratt took position. He was standing at the end of the passage, in everyone's backs. He could level his gun in peace. His heart beat rapidly. He swallowed hardly, fastened the arrow into its nest and aimed.

---

The first arrow stuck into the altar's face. Antonia stood up and extracted the sward she placed beneath her skirt. She thrust her eyes into the man, standing at the end of the passage. He was loading the crossbow again. She turned her eyes to the Amazons, sitting nearby. They stood up and jumped in the air, taking their positions. Bettina tried to extract her weapon, but her mother took her hand.

'Don't move, child!' She tried to step further. She couldn't. Queen Balmola stood at her face and murmured:

'Don't even think of it, Tulip! You have a job to do!' She put her eyes on King Petromus's face. He followed her and stood beside the couple. Lord Stephen took Lady Antonia's hand and sat on his place again. The Amazon turned back to see what happens there. The second arrow came in surprise. It was hard to oversee it, but someone did. Lady Antonia stood up in a hurry. She tried to move aside, but her hand was still in the smaiilian's palm. She looked at him, he red her eyes and stood up. The smaiilian was too fast. Lord Stephen rose just in time to stand in front of his Lady's body. The arrow went into his, running through his stomach. He looked at her, coughed and shimmered, and then he fell over her. She could not hold his heaviness and dragged down on the floor. She felt his blood watering her red gown. He put his head over her breasts and lapsed into silence.

The hall fell into panic. The Amazons cried and attacked. The man tried to escape, but there was no place to go. The women grabbed him. Eugene saw the swards rising. He awaited for the hit.

'Tsa!' cried a voice. The Amazons stopped. They turned back to see their general coming closer. 'Leave him for now!' she ordered. 'I want to interrogate him later on.' She was covered with blood. Smaiilian's blood. She looked at Eugene Spratt's face. He was in horror. She put his head in her hands and stared at him closer. 'You will tell everything!' She stared a little bit longer, then removed him and let the Amazons take him away. She nodded the guests around and moved back to the altar. The man she was supposed to marry was on the floor. Bettina was assisting queen Balmola's first aid. Antonia moved closer and removed the young Amazon. She obeyed immediately. The Red Tulip tapped her mistress's shoulder and bowed down to the smaiilian's body. She pressed a finger in his neck and stood still.

'He is still alive' she added. Then she kneeled and took his head on her knee. She pressed a several points on his neck and closed her eyes.

'What is she doing?' asked King Petromus, coming closer. Queen Balmola removed him from her sight and whispered: 'There are points on the body to stop bleeding, to make the flesh fight for life.' She pointed down at the couple. 'She is helping him not to die.'

The woman let go of the smaiilian. She was breathing with difficulty. She stood up slowly. She shimmered, felt dizzy and sat in her stool. Bettina joined her, taking her hand. She stared at her.

'Remove him this instant!' ordered Bettina de Constar. People obeyed. Queen Balmola turned to King Petromus's face. Lord Stephen's body was taken away. The arrow was still stick up in his stomach. The hit must be strong, because the arrow's end rose in his back. Queen Balmola stared at King Petromus. The Embassy of Smaiil was not far. He had to stay in bed for more than a week. He could not do his duty.

'Well?' Head priest's red face appeared from the floor. 'Are we gona have a wedding put off?'

'No!' cried both of the royals in one voice. 'The wedding is today!'

Queen Balmola turned her face to Vetinari's. He stared back. He stared for long time. Then he took a deep breath and nodded. He unwillingly gave the quill in his fingers to Drumknott's astonished stare.

'What?' he cried. His eyes burst into the Patrician's and then to the faces of the rest of the people, still surrounding them. What he red didn't suite him. He tried to hold his master's march to the wedding stool. 'No! No way! This is not happening!'

Lord Vetinari waited by the stool and turned his doubting stare at the Amazon, sitting in the stool nearby. Then turned his face to Drumknott's.

'I have put my name under a contract, Drumknott. I have a bounded duty to do.' He sat.

'But you are the Patrician… Sir! You are…'

'I am about to marry… Yes, I know.' The Patrician stared at the Amazon in his right and took her hand in his. She was pale. She was looking somewhere in front. Somewhere only she could reach. She was breathing deeply, her body was shimmering. He felt the weakness in her hand. He pressed her hardly. She didn't react.

The Head priest stood in front of the couple, amused by the rapid change. He looked questionably at Lord Vetinari's face. Then turned his attention to the both royals in behind. He lit his eyebrows and took the matrimony book. The man on the organ pressed the keys. The matrimony march rang through the temple.

The hall was in silence. Om's priest red.

'We are gathered here to welcome the new… family.' He buried his eyes in the couple in front. They were silent. 'We are here to witness the gathering of…' He stared at the auditorium '…Lord Havelock Antronius Vetinari…' No one moved. They were holding their breaths. '…And Lady Antonia Esmeralda Juniata de Constar…' There was a movement behind. The Amazons still presenting, gathered around the altar. There should be no chance for a next attack. The Head priest stood in front of the couple. He took their gathered hands and lifted them up.

'We all see the will they had shown by this unity. Let them be satisfied.' He lifted them up and turned them to the audience.

'Presenting Lord and Lady Vetinari!'

The Patrician looked at his wife. She had no life in her eyes.

The auditorium exploded. People could not believe their eyes. Is it there Vetinari holding his wife's hand, leading her to the exit, smiling weakly at the people's greetings? The Patrician? MARRIED? What a change! Disk's most distinguished political mind gathered in holly matrimony with Disk's most exquisite war machine… Ankh-Morpork and Quart… Business and Power… What would happen to the world if they decide to work together? Will there be a place without a menace of their reach?

The newly weds moved further to the exit, followed by family and friends. There were lean shouts inside. The cries from the inside moved to separate cries from the outside. Sir Samuel Vimes followed the couple in astonishment. The guards, surrounded Patrician's movement, made him a place. Well, that was too much… Soon enough he was known as Vetinari's terrier. Shortly after, he would be given with other names… Vetinari's brother-in-law would be the best of them. He stepped after the couple. Vetinari's carriage opened and let them in. The coachman stood up. Vimes stood still, he wanted to say something. Like: 'Well done' or 'Welcome to the family', or… He had no words. He closed the door. Lady Antonia's sorrowful eyes shut down. She moved back. The carriage moved up.

Sam Vimes stood silent. As the world around him. What was done was done. Vetinari – married… Who could believe that? The crowd looked at him, still in silence. 'Is it true, Commander?' asked a voice. Vimes looked up. Then he downed his head. The crowd murmured. The whisper continued long enough, and then the crowd exploded. Vetinari married! Vetinari married to… guess whom! What a struggle there would be in the bed. Who's gona be up and who's gona be down. Guess who's gona be…'

Sam Vimes moved back from the road and gathered with his wife. He took her hand and looked at her steady face. She smiled softly in response. Then she pressed his cheek with a kiss. It had to happen. After all, she had to marry today. Does it matter whom she became a wife to? It was not an explanation, but it had happen. She let him lead her through the celebrating crowd to their carriage.

---

Lord Vetinari helped his wife step out of the carriage. She was silent all the way to the Palace. She dropped her eyes shut for a minute. She was pallid, she moved slowly and stuporous. She made a step inside the Palace's big hall and leaned weakly on the nearest windowsill. She had a dizzy look. She tried to tell something, but slide down. He held her not to fall. She was as light as feather. She whispered in his ear:

'Find Bettina. She would know what to…'

She shimmered and faint away. Vetinari moved her to the sofa and laid her there. The servants came in his cry and became paralyzed with what they saw. They didn't have to be told what to do. The Patrician followed them up on the stairs. He was pale and pushy. Soon he heard well-known steps. Drumknott appeared. Vetinari pressed him in a corner. 'Find the young Amazon' he hissed. 'You have five minutes.'

Drumknott obeyed noiseless, with a pale face and still looking at his master's hands. Vetinari hid them behind his back. When he was left alone, he went to the closest wash. He had to remove the blood from there.

---

Sir Samuel Vimes passed the note to Carrot's hands and moved to the carriage, waiting in the passage. He had most oppressive news received shortly after turning back to Pseudopolis Yard. His presence at the Palace was mostly exigent.

Carrot unfolded the paper, red it and smiled, looking at the carriage, leaving the Yard. He knew Commander Vimes would keep his promise. He took his helmet, polished it rapidly with his inner sleeve and put it on his head. He hurried down the street. He smiled. Before exiting the street, he was running.

---

Angua stepped by the door. She held her abdomen. It was time. She has to hide. No one should see her now. She has to find a place for the labour. She pressed her fingers into her skin. One more contraction. That was sore. She tried to open the door, but she found out she couldn't. The pain was too sharp.

It was her first child. She used to hear from here and there that the werewolf's childbirth was not common as the human's. She could turn to a wolf any moment. That's why she should be left alone. She was scared she would not hold herself in hurting someone. She was a werewolf, after all. 'Don't believe werewolf' she heard. 'It could smile you now, and in a second time…'

She crushed on the floor, wailing. The time had come. She tried to weigh down the pain, but it was too sharp. She creped back to the bed, lifting up with difficulty. She felt the baby coming out. She cried. She wailed. She grasped the pillow's ends and pulled.

The family must have being back from a while. She heard some noises from the other arm of the house. Nevertheless, no one came to check how she was doing. They must be very busy, because the little servants came to see her in each half hour. Right now, when she needs them…

She cried again. She fell into some kind of unconsciousness, but she still felt the pain. It was weaker, but it was still there. Then she heard voices, she saw faces. The woman was there. Moreover, her man too. They went out for a while, and then the woman was back. There were some other women. One of them moved closer, starting to encourage her. Angua felt the dizziness and the pain growing. She cried, caught the hand she reached and pushed. Then pushed again. And again. She pushed until she heard the cry. A baby's cry. She moved up and saw her child.

'Gods! It has no fur!' She laughed and moved back, giggling. Soon she was given with the child. She looked at it. It stared back… and smiled. Before feeling happy enough, Angua felt the dizziness again. She pressed her abdomen again. The pain continued. 'There is another one!' shouted someone. The baby in Angua's hands was removed. She pushed again. And again… She felt something strange happening around her. She felt the world change. The pain was gone. She heard the cries of her children from a distance. Then she moved her head up. She stood up and saw Carrot rushing into the room. He came to her, he found her. She felt happy… at last… Then she heard someone's talking and moved slowly by her site. He moved through her. Angua burst into a shock. Carrot was over here, so close she could touch him, but when she tried, her fingers went through him like a boat through a fog.

Angua cried. She knew what had happened. She knew it, she felt it… Didn't she? She put her face in her palms. There were no tears although she was crying.

'My family!' she turned her tearless eyes to Carrot, hugging their babies. He was crying. No, he was wailing.

FAMILIES ARE IMPORTANT.

She turned to the voice, coming from her left. There was a dark cowled figure. The man gave her his hand. It was bony. Angua was clever woman. She had to be told once to understand the whole picture. So, she was dead… She thought about this for a while. Then she looked at the tall figure. Death was still reaching for her hand.

'Do I have to come now?'

Death nodded. Angua cried:

'What about by babies?'

Death lifted his bony hand: DON'T WORRY. THEY WILL BE FINE. THEY WILL GROW AND DIE IN OLD AGE.

'I don't even know what they are. I have hoped for a girls and a boy.'

YOU ARE RIGHT… AND WRONG, said Death. YOU HAD TWO SONS.

Angua sighed. She stared at Carrot's face and tried to cry again. She couldn't. He was still holding her boys in his gentle hold. They were all crying. How could she leave them right now? One more day… Just one more day…

Death pulled her hand. She looked at him. Then she obeyed. She walked after him, looking back at the picture of her family, dissolving and disappearing for her. Forever. Soon she disappeared also.

THAT'S MUCH BETTER! Smiled Death. WHEN YOU REBORN YOU WILL BE VERY SURPRISED! Death laughed and vanished.

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