Whys and Weres 14
Absolutely the last bit that needs to be said...
Post-Scripts
Leaving the conference at the Palace, Johanna was stopped by Vimes. He gave her a long cool look.
"So bloody Downey's making you a hundred grand better off as a result of the night's work?" he demanded.
Johanna shrugged.
"If I'd got all four, it would heve been two hundred thousand." she said, evenly.
"Still better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, though. Which leads me to my point. Special Detective-Constable Smith-Rhodes, you were there last night as one of my Watchwomen, not as a bloody Assassin. I happen to have strict rules concerning members of the Watch receiving financial inducements from bodies or agencies outside the Watch for merely doing their duty. "
"Oh, dear. I really hope this is not going to be a clesh of interests?"
"I can be fair. You're a Special, after all, and Assassin is your day job. Downey's already had his Guild Tax off the fee, hasn't he?"
"The usual fifty per cent, yes."
"Right." Said Vimes. "I'm now suggesting to you that out of that fee, you voluntarily and of your own free will pay a Watch Widows and Orphans tax of, ooh, twenty percent. Which is a steal compared to Downey taking half. Then the rest is yours as you've bloody well earned it. Same principle applies to any Watchman in a position to claim reward money put up by outsiders. A percentage to Widows and Orphans, they keep the balance."
"Twenty thousand." Johanna said.
"On my desk by tomorrow, miss Smith-Rhodes. And bloody well done!" He squeezed her undamaged hand in token of thanks, saluted, turned and left without a backward glance.
Johanna sighed, philosophically. Not so easy come, easy go….
Ruth joined her.
"You've just been shaken down, haven't you?"
"Thet's mr Vimes for you!" she said, in grudging admiration.
"By the way, Ruth, helf the fee for N'Juri is yours. If you hedn't done whet you did, it would hev been a lot messier!"
"A senior Assassin who doesn't try to bilk her assistant!" Ruth said, with something of the old spark. "A Boor baas-lady who doesn't try to underpay the bleck hired hend! What's the next rare thing we shall see?"
"Don't push it, skabenga!" Johanna cautioned, but she was laughing.
Ruth's face fell.
"My father is going to go spare!" she said. "He is going to go {{person who balances the books and dispenses monies}}. What do I tell him, Johanna?"
The following morning was bright and clear and sunny. The Patrician sipped his iced tea reflectively as Ambassador Canaan N'Vectif outlined his plans for rebuilding the destroyed wing of the Kwa'Zulu Embassy.
"I'm not sure what to do with the wing when it is rebuilt." he said, reflectively. "Prior to the recent incident, the upstairs floor housed the Witch-Finders and their clerical secretariat. Downstairs, certain recent occupants used the cellar beneath as a, er, den."
"This is a capital drink for a sunny day, Ambassador!" Vetinari said, sipping. "As always, your Embassy is most hospitable."
Vetinari's coach had turned up unannounced; and after minimal ceremony, had been allowed to enter for what the press release would later term "an informal discussion" on local and world events.
"My dear sir!" Vetinari added, as if a hidden message had belatedly struck him.
"You will still need a contingent of Witch-Finders here. I can hardly deny you, when virtually every Embassy in this City appears to have its contingent of accredited magic-users. The Paramount King might summon my man at his Royal Kraal to ask why we single his country out for such an insult, by denying you your native magicians."
The Ambassador looked surprised, as if this was the answer he least expected to hear.
"No, the Genuans have their voudou practitioners. Fourecks sends Wizards from Bugarup University supported by native aboriginal boneshakers. Brindisi has its resident vecchia. And I understand the Agatean Embassy will soon be graced by a group of fox-kami. That may well prove to be of quiet interest."
Vetinari put down his drink and steepled his fingers on the table-top.
"No, I consider that after recent events, the new diplomatically accredited Witch-Finders will have learnt a lesson from the sad fate of their, ah, predecessors, and will be more circumspect in their actions. Magical accidents tend to happen in this city, and I commiserate with your nation on its sad loss. However, I am prepared to extend diplomatic accreditation to no more than two, and your government is to be made aware that at all times they will be under your direct management and may not act as an independent group by-passing normal diplomatic channels.
"And I recently returned to you Anthony N'Kima and Blessing M'Utheleze , did I not? And even as we speak, the young lady is at the docks, preparing to board a long slow boat home. As you know, I found no evidence to link the young man to recent crimes in this city, and as far as I am concerned, he is free to continue his legitimate diplomatic duties here."
Their eyes met. Both men knew it. Anthony had been turned, and would now be Vetinari's ears, eyes, and nose in the Kwa'Zulu Embassy.
Better the spy you know… thought the Ambassador.
The Ambassador will now use N'Kima as a channel to reveal to me only what he thinks I should know. Which is capital, as the omissions in N'Kima's reports will tell me what I need to know. And being useful to us both, he should be relatively free from harm.
"The recent intrusion at the Rimwards Howondaland Embassy, which alas we never got to the bottom of, displays that there is an unquestionable need for Embassies to have their own guards in case of intrusion by the maliciously-minded. I am therefore happy for you to have a resident contingent of Leopard Society members in residence subject to these conditions, which are not negotiable.
"One. They are here for defence only, and in that role have a legitimate right to self-defence.
"Two. I am conceding the Tump to you as an area where they may run at night in leopard form when they require exercise. They may hunt rabbits and rodents as they please. They may also run as leopards outside the city limits and outside my jurisdiction. At all other times and places within the city, they go in human form only. Within the Embassy grounds, your law applies and it may well deter intruders to know they patrol your grounds at night.
"Three. Anthony N'Kima will be their leader and no other.
"Four. There will be no slaying of humans of any race or nationality, except that it may occur in legitimate self-defence.
"Five. There will under no circumstances be any Black Panthers among their number.
And six: there will be no overt hostility with any other form of were-creature resident in this City. I will advise our resident werewolf population of this clause and enforce it.
"You will receive written copies of this agreement shortly."
"I am agreeable, my lord." Ambassador N'Vectif said, with audible relief.
"Capital!" said Vetinari, cheerfully. "Kiff, even. You know, the slang of the Rimwards Howondalandians is as extensive and nearly as colourful as that of the Fourecksian. Partly Morporkian, partly Kerrigian, and partly drawn from the native tribal languages."
"Skabenga is a good illustration, my Lord. I have wondered how many Boors realise that is the Zulu word for "miscreant", "naughty person" or "criminal", when they use it almost as an endearment."
"And of course, one of the Embassy guard dogs got to the bottom of the intruder, by all accounts. It took a good hup out of his guava, apparently!"
The two men laughed together, understanding each other.
"And now the other thing" Vetinari said. "Having given Anthony N'Kimba his leopardskin back, with the promise he use it only for socially beneficient reasons, I am embarrassed in that I appear to have simultaneously promised it as trophy to the Assassins' Guild. I was wondering, have you a spare we could purchase?"
The ambassador called over a servant and issued orders.
"As good as done, my lord!"
"Capital. And the last thing we need do to forestall an international incident. We do rather need a ruling on Miss Ruth N'Kweze's marital status. It does rather seem as if she went through the form of marriage with Emmanuel N'juri, seconds before he was killed. Her father, the Paramount King, will be enraged his daughter gave herself in marriage to not only a commoner, but a murderous criminal. And I fear he will blame me."
"It is true she used the words that bind a man and woman in marriage, yes. But the marriage was not consummated."
"But that does not necessarily annul it. Just before the Battle of Isandlhwana, the then Paramount Chief attended a mass marriage of eight hundred men of his favoured regiment. During the ceremony, he heard the Ankh-Morporkian Army under the command of Lords Rust and Eorle had crossed the Blood River into Kwa'Zululand.
"He gave his men no chance to say farewell to their new wives, ended the wedding feast, and sent them straight into battle. With a result we all remember to this day."
"Yes, Lord Vetinari. Why your nation persists in allowing Rusts to command its army is a mystery to the rest of us."
There was a silence. After a while, Vetinari continued.
"And even though those marriages were not consummated and many of that day's new wives went into widowhood, it was ruled that they were widows, nonetheless."
"As is the Princess Ruth, I believe. At least she inherits N'Juri's worldly estate."
"She has already bequeathed his panther skins to a city museum, that much I do know."
The Ambassador nodded.
"I will recommend that the Paramount refers the matter to the College of Jujumen and Wise Elders. They will, I think, make the ruling."
"Capital! I am looking forward to advising Lord Downey that the Guild of Assassins now has its second, so to speak, Black Widow!"
A servant returned, bowed, and handed Vetinari a parcel. It contained a leopardskin loincloth, four bracelets and a headband of the same material.
"Virtually indistinguishable from the real thing," said the Ambassador, "and museum-quality, I think".
"You are too kind!"
"Think nothing of it, Havelock!"
Vetinari has helped me keep my face and enabled me to present what they will interpret as a partial victory. I owe him.
Vetinari smiled. With three or more groups of were-animals in the city, they would be too busy watching and mistrusting each other for any one on its own to be powerful enough to pose a real threat. If van der Post's theories were correct, the weres had originally evolved as a human response to the threat posed by vampires. This development would worry the vampire community too and prevent it from getting too powerful, which was also no bad thing.
Johanna and Ruth took the dogs for a walk on the Tump. It was safe to let them off the lead to try and chase rabbits. Although the lupine population of the mound had evolved, in a city where they were seen as free calories, to avoid far more skilled poacher, and were duly contemptuous of two lolloping great near-puppies ineffectually trying to chase them to ground.
As Kafee and Crème ran and chased, Johanna nursed her broken arm, which didn't so much hurt as itch abominably. Like thousands of plaster-cast wearers before her, she was discovering how impossible it is to get to the source of the itch for a satisfying scratch, and was moodily putting up with it.
"So ere you a widow or eren't you?"
"I don't know. Nobody does. But I just wish I could have him back, but changed and different."
Johanna wished she knew what to say. She hoped feelings like this faded with time and distance. She wondered if in any circumstances she might ever have to inhume Ponder. Her soul revolted from the prospect, but contemplating it gave her insights into how devastated Ruth must be feeling.
You're an Assassin. You fall for a guy. Ag, he turns out to be a bad guy and wholly unsuitable. But you've still fallen for him. Then you have to inhume him. But what matters is that at some level, she planned exactly how she was going to do it then made herself do it. Ag, Ruth is an Assassin.
The two women sat and watched the rabbits contemptuously evade the dogs. Here and now, it's a nice life. And we're young, female, and alive.
Angua von Überwald sat up in bed and read the two letters. The shorter one was from Mr Vimes.
I really didn't want to do this to you while you're off sick, but Vetinari is insisting you take on a job for the City. He says you are the best qualified person. Read it and see what you thnink.
Vetinari's note was terse.
Commander Vimes.
With the recent influx of new were-species in this city, I consider it imperative that the Cable Street Particulars maintain a watching brief on the newcomers as they arrive. This can be done under the standard intelligence headings of type, description, location, habits, known criminal tendencies, and so on.
What is known about the fox-kami, or were-foxes, soon to arrive at the Agatean Embassy, is appended.
We also believe the Hubland Confederation has a military attaché called Beorn Beornsson, who is an example of the rare were-bear (description and iconograph attached.)
The Fourecksian High Commission has also been dropping hints lately concerning the existence of weres among the aboriginal population, species yet to be ascertained.
And of course there will be were-leopards still at the Kwa'Zulu Embassy, although their claws have been pulled somewhat in recent weeks.
I consider Sergeant Angua ideal to be seconded to the CSP for perhaps one day a week to undertake this work, as it may help her come to terms with the new status of werewolves in the world…
Bloody, bloody, Vetinari! she thought, laid back, and fumed.
Although the idea of were-foxes intrigued her…she wondered what form they would take.
Maybe we didn't slaughter them all….
The thought was something of a relief.