Hi everyone who reads my story and mostly don't review it! I'm finally approaching the climax, I think. It's all coming together. You don't have to rave about it, just tell me what you think, please?
I try to keep my insanity well in check so as not to disturb other people unnecessarily, but I am not yet so insane as to believe that I am an adult male fabulously popular author who lives in England and grows carnivorous plants. Translation: I am not the fellow who owns Discworld. He lives far, far away.
Chapter 6
****
Skrp approached the Patrician, standing on the desk in front of his folded hands. Vetinari nodded for the rat to speak.
"I was wondering, sir, if you would be willing to host a diplomatic event."
"A diplomatic event?" asked the Patrician. "Organized by rats? Intriguing. What type of event?"
"Well, sir, we have just had a visit from the leader of the intelligent rat complement of a small town called Bad Blintz."
"Really? I had thought that you were unique among your species in the use of language. Bad Blintz...that is an Uberwaldian name, is it not?"
"Yes, sir. Although, in fact, Darktan's clan came from this city, originally. You may have heard of them, by the name, The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents?" Skrp said disdainfully.
"Ah, yes, I recall hearing of them." The Patrician smiled a small smile. "They certainly had a - knack - for getting what they wanted. Although, certainly not the method I would have recommended. Much too conspicuous." He looked thoughtfully at the rat on his desk. "I have not heard news of their exploits for quite a while. And they say they are the rats of Bad Blintz? What have they been up to, I wonder?"
"It seems they have integrated themselves into the human community. Several of them are members of the City Watch!"
"Indeed? That is an impressive accomplishment. And they maintain this arrangement peacefully? I find it hard to believe that so many of them in the same place could be so civilized."
"Rats, sir? Surely, we are..."
"No, Skrp. The humans, of course. They are the ones that are so troublingly inconsistent." He glanced at one of the reports on his desk, and sighed.
***
Vimes arrived in front of the palace. "Good afternoon, sir!" said the man on duty at the gate.
"Afternoon, er, Encks," said Vimes. He had been making an effort to at least know the names of the people he had supposedly recruited, even though for all he knew about what he had been signing, at the time, it might have been a receipt for a delivery of Klatchian coffee to the canteen.
It was still drizzling, and Encks was huddled in his cloak, looking as if he was trying not to show the Commander his utter dejectedness.
Vimes looked ruefully at the remains of his cigar. It was a very good cigar. Sybil had bought it for him. She would buy many more.
It was a fashionable cigar, he thought to himself. Its little label had said, 'Pantweed's: Fashionable Cigars since the Year of the Mock Turtle.' Vimes was of the opinion that if something was fashionable, something was wrong with it. People just weren't that smart.
He glanced around at the Watchman again. "You smoke, Encks?" Vimes asked.
"Yes, sir," he said.
"Would you like the rest of this?"
"Thank you, sir!" said Encks. After all, it was a very good cigar.
Vimes glanced around again, and an unlicensed thief fleeing with a woman's purse stubbornly failed to appear. Then, seeing no more obvious reasons to delay any longer, he went in.
***
"Tonight, we will show you the hospitality of the Patrician's Palace. There will be a banquet in your honor, and the Patrician, and possibly a few of the more open-minded nobles of the city, will attend." Skrp cleared his throat thoughtfully. "We had hoped to make it a ball, but I am at a loss as to how to bring in musicians without alerting the entire Guild as to our nature, which, of course, is out of the question."
"Sounds posh, Guv," said Sardines. "Think I need a new hat."
Skrp glared briefly at Sardines, but chose to ignore the appellation.
Darktan thought. "Well," he said, "As it happens, we have connections with the Guild of Musicians."
"Really?" said Skrp. "What an interesting state of affairs. - Oh, yes, I see now. The nameless piper who traditionally shows up shortly after a mysterious plague of rats?"
"Actually, his name is Keith, although it is surprising how long you can know him without learning that." Darktan smiled to himself. "He's just come with us to visit his friends in the Guild. He hasn't seen any of them in years, and they are the only human family he has. Although I'm not sure how long that's going to last." He chuckled. "He and the Mayor's daughter are getting along very well."
"Well, as long as you can guarantee secrecy, it sounds like an excellent arrangement. If you can contact this Keith, and tell him to choose the more discreet among his colleagues, we shall have a proper reception for your diplomatic party."
"Right," said Darktan. "Bestbefore, why don't you go down to the Guild house and talk to the kid? Take someone with you, you remember how this place is."
"Got it, Darktan."
"One of us should be there," said Skrp. "Rth, go and make sure the arrangements are properly planned, and look out for our interests as well."
"Don't trust me, eh?" said Bestbefore, with the beginning of a growl.
"Bestbefore. Relax. It does make sense. They know more about palace affairs, and they know more about their own affairs."
"Yes, sir," he answered immediately. "So, Rth, is it? Shall we head out?"
"Quite," said Rth.
I try to keep my insanity well in check so as not to disturb other people unnecessarily, but I am not yet so insane as to believe that I am an adult male fabulously popular author who lives in England and grows carnivorous plants. Translation: I am not the fellow who owns Discworld. He lives far, far away.
Chapter 6
****
Skrp approached the Patrician, standing on the desk in front of his folded hands. Vetinari nodded for the rat to speak.
"I was wondering, sir, if you would be willing to host a diplomatic event."
"A diplomatic event?" asked the Patrician. "Organized by rats? Intriguing. What type of event?"
"Well, sir, we have just had a visit from the leader of the intelligent rat complement of a small town called Bad Blintz."
"Really? I had thought that you were unique among your species in the use of language. Bad Blintz...that is an Uberwaldian name, is it not?"
"Yes, sir. Although, in fact, Darktan's clan came from this city, originally. You may have heard of them, by the name, The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents?" Skrp said disdainfully.
"Ah, yes, I recall hearing of them." The Patrician smiled a small smile. "They certainly had a - knack - for getting what they wanted. Although, certainly not the method I would have recommended. Much too conspicuous." He looked thoughtfully at the rat on his desk. "I have not heard news of their exploits for quite a while. And they say they are the rats of Bad Blintz? What have they been up to, I wonder?"
"It seems they have integrated themselves into the human community. Several of them are members of the City Watch!"
"Indeed? That is an impressive accomplishment. And they maintain this arrangement peacefully? I find it hard to believe that so many of them in the same place could be so civilized."
"Rats, sir? Surely, we are..."
"No, Skrp. The humans, of course. They are the ones that are so troublingly inconsistent." He glanced at one of the reports on his desk, and sighed.
***
Vimes arrived in front of the palace. "Good afternoon, sir!" said the man on duty at the gate.
"Afternoon, er, Encks," said Vimes. He had been making an effort to at least know the names of the people he had supposedly recruited, even though for all he knew about what he had been signing, at the time, it might have been a receipt for a delivery of Klatchian coffee to the canteen.
It was still drizzling, and Encks was huddled in his cloak, looking as if he was trying not to show the Commander his utter dejectedness.
Vimes looked ruefully at the remains of his cigar. It was a very good cigar. Sybil had bought it for him. She would buy many more.
It was a fashionable cigar, he thought to himself. Its little label had said, 'Pantweed's: Fashionable Cigars since the Year of the Mock Turtle.' Vimes was of the opinion that if something was fashionable, something was wrong with it. People just weren't that smart.
He glanced around at the Watchman again. "You smoke, Encks?" Vimes asked.
"Yes, sir," he said.
"Would you like the rest of this?"
"Thank you, sir!" said Encks. After all, it was a very good cigar.
Vimes glanced around again, and an unlicensed thief fleeing with a woman's purse stubbornly failed to appear. Then, seeing no more obvious reasons to delay any longer, he went in.
***
"Tonight, we will show you the hospitality of the Patrician's Palace. There will be a banquet in your honor, and the Patrician, and possibly a few of the more open-minded nobles of the city, will attend." Skrp cleared his throat thoughtfully. "We had hoped to make it a ball, but I am at a loss as to how to bring in musicians without alerting the entire Guild as to our nature, which, of course, is out of the question."
"Sounds posh, Guv," said Sardines. "Think I need a new hat."
Skrp glared briefly at Sardines, but chose to ignore the appellation.
Darktan thought. "Well," he said, "As it happens, we have connections with the Guild of Musicians."
"Really?" said Skrp. "What an interesting state of affairs. - Oh, yes, I see now. The nameless piper who traditionally shows up shortly after a mysterious plague of rats?"
"Actually, his name is Keith, although it is surprising how long you can know him without learning that." Darktan smiled to himself. "He's just come with us to visit his friends in the Guild. He hasn't seen any of them in years, and they are the only human family he has. Although I'm not sure how long that's going to last." He chuckled. "He and the Mayor's daughter are getting along very well."
"Well, as long as you can guarantee secrecy, it sounds like an excellent arrangement. If you can contact this Keith, and tell him to choose the more discreet among his colleagues, we shall have a proper reception for your diplomatic party."
"Right," said Darktan. "Bestbefore, why don't you go down to the Guild house and talk to the kid? Take someone with you, you remember how this place is."
"Got it, Darktan."
"One of us should be there," said Skrp. "Rth, go and make sure the arrangements are properly planned, and look out for our interests as well."
"Don't trust me, eh?" said Bestbefore, with the beginning of a growl.
"Bestbefore. Relax. It does make sense. They know more about palace affairs, and they know more about their own affairs."
"Yes, sir," he answered immediately. "So, Rth, is it? Shall we head out?"
"Quite," said Rth.
