Lord Scribet had been the Book Master at the Assassin's Guild for nearly forty years. He was very proud of his books. They contained, in minute detail, every assassination for the past several centuries, the last several volumes in his own handwriting. There, carefully penned in, were the names of every commissioner and every quarry next to the price of the given quarry's inhuming and the signature of the Assassin who had performed the honors.

He looked up from his paper strewn desk at the sound of footfalls.

"Ah," he said once the young man was in his office. "Havelock Vetinari, isn't it? Managed to secure another commission this week? I must say, you seem to be receiving a good number lately."

"No," said Vetinari, glancing at the stacks of books lining the small space. "I'm here about a Writ of Exemption."

"I see," said Lord Scribet knowingly, pulling a book out from his desk. It was much, much thinner than the other tombs that filled the room. "And who is the young lady?"

"How did you know that?" asked Vetinari sharply.

Scribet looked up at the young man. "I have been doing this for a very long time. Now, her name please? I must check her against our records to be assured that she is not already under commission."

"Ienska Tineshan," Vetinari said reluctantly.

The Book master flipped through a thick volume. "T…Tin…" He looked up. "She does not appear to be under commission," he said cheerfully. "Now, I just have to check in the city records to find some information about her…" he shuffled over to a very large filing cabinet and pulled open a drawer that said, in Assassin's code, T. He flipped through a number of names. He flipped through twice. Three times. He pulled out a card and stared at it. He looked at Vetinari.

"Oh dear."

***

The night air was very quiet up on the roof, only the distant sounds of shouts and squeaky vending carts broke the silence. Ienska had been on all the trips down to street level that she required for the time being and was settling in to enjoy the night.

Most people wouldn't feel too comfortable sleeping on a slanted roof, but Ienska preferred that to the alternatives, which involved a dorm full of girls coming and going at all hours as they went about their assignments.

Ienska drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, enjoying the solitude and quiet.

And then there was an arm wrapped around her, constraining her, and the feel of cold steel at her throat…very sharp cold steel. She froze.

"Who are you?" asked a cold, dispassionate voice.

It was useless to try and disappear, anyone in contact with her wouldn't be fooled unless they were very, very stupid, and anyone who could creep up on her was not stupid. As a matter of fact, only one person had ever been able to creep up on her.

"Havelock?" she whispered, careful not to move as she spoke.

"Who are you?" the voice asked again, sounding very much like Havelock Vetinari. But why would he ask that?

"I…you know who I am." The knife pressed closer, stopping a hair's breath short of drawing blood and an infinitesimal amount more short of slitting her throat.

"I know who Ienska Tineshan is," he said. "She's a Countess who died in the revolution…hundreds of years ago."

"Is she?" asked the girl, trying to press her head back enough to speak safely but only succeeding in making herself more uncomfortable. "Probably an ancestor. Though you'd think the Masters would have told me…"

"What Masters?" asked Vetinari, voice pitched low. He sounded calm. He sounded dangerous.

"The Masters," she said. "How did you find all this out?" It seemed ridiculous to ask a question like that with a dagger pressed against her flesh, but it slipped out anyway.

"I tried to take out a Writ of Exemption on one Ienska Tineshan," he said softly. "The Book Master was most interested in my request, once he found the card. So either you look very, very good for your age, or you're not who you say you are."

"Or I'm not in the city records," she said quietly. A Writ of Exemption? He was gripping very tightly now, obviously furious, though you'd never know it from the tone of his voice.

"Everyone's in the records," he said bitterly. "It's the only thing in this stinking city that works."

"But I'm not in there," she said, the dagger was causing a very serious dent in her higher reasoning skills and concentration. "Look, let me go. I promise I won't go anywhere until I've explained." The steel still pressed against her throat. Vetinari didn't say a word. "This is ridiculous," she said. "You came here looking for answers, and I'll give them to you. But it's very hard to collect one's thoughts with the threat of immediate…inhuming. I swear I won't run. I won't even vanish."

After a moment the blade was withdrawn and the arm around her loosened, though it didn't let go. "Fine," said Vetinari, voice flat. "But if you do try to run, you know I'll find you. And I'm not really in the mood to deal with contracts and commissions tonight." The arm dropped, leaving her free. She turned to face him, kneeling down on the rough material of the roof.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you," she said, shivering despite the warm air. What she was planning on doing went against everything she had been raised to, every neuron in her brain was screaming in protest. She told them to go hang themselves.

He narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I was under the impression that I was the one being sworn to, not the other way around."

"Please." She couldn't believe it, she was almost in tears now. All he had to do was say yes. "You have to swear, an oath that you won't break. I – I can't say anything otherwise."

"You had best talk, then," said Vetinari. "I'll swear afterwards." He twirled the dagger. "If I see why it requires an oath, that is."

What choice did she have? Well, at the very least, she could be composed about it. And that's what it came back to, those stupid games. Never let anyone know what you're thinking, always look like you know what you're doing. She hated those games with a burning passion, but for the moment she retreated into their familiar twists and turns with something very much like relief.

"We've only been in Ankh-Morpork for a few weeks, we – I don't think I've ever heard an actual name for us – arrived about five days before you tripped over me…the first time, that is. The Masters said that we were needed here, that no where else on the Disc was in more need of protection. That's what we do, protect. Not the rich and important people, they can afford bodyguards and, besides, they usually deserve what they've got coming. We protect the people who acquire enemies by being honest and moral. Not just from assassination, but from everyday things like street brawls and what the police around here call suicide. I know it sounds stupid, and our charter says a lot of stuff about 'Staying Fate's Hand' and the like, but that's not what really matters. What matters is that people walking home from work late at night, when they hear footsteps following them, can hope that someone will spring out of the shadows, chase away their pursuit and disappear again. And I know that sounds even worse…but that's how it is. And the Patrician…Lord Snapcase, he doesn't like the idea of that. He doesn't like that there are people willing to do something for nothing. It doesn't fit with his view of the world. So the Masters kept us out of the city records, to protect us. That's all. I didn't lie, I really am Ienska Tineshan, and I had no idea that there was ever a Countess Tineshan," she said it all very calmly, though a bit more quickly than normal conversation would dictate. As she spoke, Vetinari's face grew steadily more horrified.

"You're the Hero's Guild, you're actually in the Hero's Guild," he said when she finished, spitting the words as if they were filth.

"The what?" asked Ienska.

"The Hero's Guild," he said again. "That's forbidden…if anyone knew…"

"I don't know what you're talking about but you have to swear not to tell anyone," she said, nervous. Vetinari's eyes had acquired a distant look reminiscent of a pit bull wondering when the last time such a big bone fell at its feet was. "Please. If the Masters find out I told someone I don't know what they'll do. It won't be peasant." She shivered again.

To her shock, Vetinari reached out and took her hands. "All right, I swear," he said. "But you have to get out."

"What?" she pulled her hands away. "What do you mean get out?"

"You have to leave," he said urgently. "There's a reason that a Hero's Guild is forbidden. Something about being a Hero, it goes to people's heads…it doesn't work, something just goes wrong. I don't know what, but after a while people stop being people and start being just Heroes, and then they start thinking things and doing things they shouldn't. You have to get out." In the time that Ienska had known him, Vetinari had never seemed anything but composed, now there was tone in his voice very akin to panic, and it confused her.

"You don't understand. I've never done anything else, the Masters raised me, raised us all," she said, confused. "Why would I leave? And in a few years I'll be able to be Interned, then I'll…." she trailed off. Then what? Internment came at nineteen, everyone knew that. But…no one knew what happened after the Internment Rituals. The Masters said a lot of stuff about going on to see and do even better things. But they said the same things when someone was killed…Ienska shook her head. This was ridiculous. "You said you swear?" she said, trying to change the subject. He nodded. "By what?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have to swear by something, that's how it works," she said.

"Like what?" he asked carefully.

"I don't know! Something important to you."

"Ah." He seemed calmer now. "Then I swear by your leaving the Hero's Guild."

"What?" she asked, eyes flying wide.

"Yes, that works nicely," he said.

"You can't do that!" she said, furious. "That's another one of your games. You don't have that power over me."

"I rather think I do," he said. But he was watching her. After a moment he seemed to reach a decision. "Very well, then I swear by my father's dagger." That sounded right to Ienska.

"Good, then I'd best be going," she said.

"I thought you said you were going to spend the whole night up here?"

"Oh, yes," she said, realizing that it wasn't even midnight yet. "In that case, I'd best go to sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow."

"Of course."

It was infuriating the way that he acted as if nothing had happened, that he hadn't held a dagger to her throat, that she hadn't just told him the one thing she was forbidden to say. It was frightening that she was able to pretend, too.

She lay down and curled up slightly, trying to will herself to sleep. After a moment, she opened her eyes again. "Aren't you leaving?"

"I rather like it here, thank you."

"Ah. Well, try not to make any noise." With that, Ienska managed to fall asleep. Even in her dreams it annoyed her that she felt safe enough to sleep with him there.