Vetinari looked over at the sleeping form. A Hero's Guild. That explained so much. But it also left a lot of questions and threw several more into the pot. The most pressing one being "Why?"
For power, undoubtedly. That was the usual game. And these Masters seemed to have complete control over the people they directed. Like Ienska. It was strange to hear those words come out of her mouth, she always seemed so independent. Now it appeared that everything she did was a puppet like reaction to the words of these Masters.
But Heroes never worked. They started to think of themselves as too powerful, and there was no Guild there to stop them. A Hero's Guild should, in theory, but they didn't…it became more of a competition than a Guild. That's what the history books said. There had been Hero's Guilds once, oh yes. And they had fallen, dragging a great deal of several cities along with them. Because, in time, Heroes became nothing more than gang leaders, trying to outsmart the other gang leaders. And they thought they had the right to judge who deserved to live and who deserved to die.
Even the Assassins didn't do that. Yes, they accepted others' opinions on the matter, but only for money. That was the important part, the humanizing part. It gave you something to keep score with, something that didn't involve personal power over others' lives. The money was important. But Heroes never accepted money.
He sat down next to Ienska. He'd thought he'd had her for a moment, with the oath. But then he'd seen her eyes. This was something she had to decide to do for herself. And if she didn't decide soon, or decided the wrong thing, well, his father had been an accountant.
***
The next morning Ienska made her way through the city. She had a few hours before her first assignment and needed to clear her head. The previous night's events had been…unsettling. She fingered the thin red line on her neck ruthfully. It was a good thing Vetinari knew how to handle that dagger of his, or she might be short a head. Which would have been a problem, because she needed to think.
Hero's Guild, he'd called them. Yes, that fit she supposed. And the other things he had said, about doing things you shouldn't, about people not being people anymore. She realized with a jolt that she had never, in her entire life, thought of the Masters as people. They were the Masters, cold eyed men who sat very straight and said what was right and what was wrong. Not instructed, not taught, but said. Their word was law to the ones who served under them.
And then there was the Internment. She had always assumed that the Interned went out into the world and did what they'd always done. But you'd think someone would have come back, at least once. They never did.
Right after the Ritual, they were escorted out of whatever building they were staying in by the Masters. The Masters walked in a ring around them, signifying the protection that would follow into the world – or preventing escape. Ienska shook her head, confused. And then they were never seen again. The Masters came back into the room, smiling, and said goodnight to everyone before retiring to their own chambers. Oh, and they sent their gloves and cloaks with the newly Interned, for protection…gloves and cloaks that, Ienska realized quite clearly, could very well be covered with blood.
The Masters had absolute power over the lives of those they raised. Absolute power…that was what they said made the Assassins evil. But Vetinari didn't seem evil, he seemed very warm and human in comparison with the Masters – though she supposed the words wouldn't describe him in comparison to anyone else. But the Masters, in a certain light, did seem evil. In daylight, as a matter of fact, or, if you thought about it, even in candle light.
Ienska stopped dead in the middle of the street.
An ox pulling a cart down the street blinked as a girl disappeared while he watched.
A furrow seemed to form down the middle of the street, a space no one noticed making its way very definitely toward the City Gates.