Chapter 2 – Chess With Death (or, How Does the Horse-Like One Move Again?)
The closest watch house was back the way that Maurice had come, and not far from Unseen University. Maurice decided that that was as good as any other place to start looking for the little doggie.
Maurice padded down the street for a while, until he reached the University, and looked up at the Tower of Art. Maurice had lived close to the University all of his life – the wizards who spent most of their time there were huge fans of huge dinners – and where there was a lot of food, there was also likely to be a lot of rodents. That meant that it was a perfect place for a cat to live, due to this plentiful supply of nourishing food. Indeed, it seemed that this was the main reason why humans liked cats – because they ate rats and mice and other vermin. And because they purred, of course.
As Maurice took a step towards the Tower of Art, the world changed – faded into monochrome. It was the grey of late evening – he could see everything clearly enough, but all colour had drained from the world. He stopped, puzzled by this occurrence.
By the University, sat a very elderly wizard, who was hunched over some kind of gameboard, which was on a small table. The wizard had a very wrinkled face, and a beard that any dwarf would be proud of. Sitting opposite him, across the gameboard, was a tall figure, cloaked entirely in black. On the cloaked figure's right shoulder, there was what appeared to be a rat – but that tiny figure was also cloaked entirely in black, including having a cowl, which concealed nearly all of its face, except for a bony snout. Both of the cloaked figures held scythes.
Maurice took a step closer, to get a better look at the gameboard, and at the game that the figures were apparently currently playing.
YOU WOULD NOT, PERHAPS, PREFER TO HAVE A DANCE CONTEST? the larger of the two cowled figures asked – except that it seemed to speak in words that were more than words, words that were created out of reality itself. However, it sounded as if the figure nevertheless held out little hope that the other player would acquiesce to his suggestion, but was determined to try, nevertheless.
"Not with these knees, I'm afraid," the elderly wizard replied, giving a smile which moved the wrinkles around his face.
YOU CAN REMOVER YOUR KNEES? the hooded figure asked, AND DANCE WITHOUT THEM?
"Uh, no," said the wizard, "I can't. But I really think we should get back to the chess game now, don't you?" he added.
AS YOU WISH replied the cowled figure. And Maurice was sure, now, that the cowled figure was Death. He watched Death for a moment, as the black clad figure stared at the chessboard. So, the elderly wizard was playing chess with Death. Maurice watched as the elderly wizard moved one of the little figurines in front of him forward a couple of squares. Then Maurice turned his attention back to Death once more.
Cats can see Death – and Death was always around Ankh-Morpork, in slaughterhouses and the streets, especially in The Shades, as well as in the River Ankh, in cats, in foxes – there was, as far as Maurice was aware, nowhere where Death could not go1. And Death's tiny companion, the Death of Rats, was responsible, Maurice knew, not only for taking the souls of rats onward towards whatever came next, but also for taking the souls of other small rodents on to that place. Maurice had therefore seen the Death of Rats many times before, when he had been eating rodents, and so knew that he spent a lot of time near the University.
Maurice knew that Death was not cruel – in fact, he seemed rather kind, in a slightly confused way; and, anyway, he liked cats – but he was still Death, and so Maurice found himself feeling rather wary in his company, especially when the Death of Rats noticed him, and squeaked his warning to Death.
"It's your move," the wizard reminded Death, tapping his gnarled finger impatiently on the chessboard.
Death examined the black figurines on his side of the chessboard for a moment, and his bony fingers hovered over one that looked a bit like a horse's head. He said: REMIND ME, WHICH WAY DOES THIS ONE MOVE?
Maurice stared at Death for a moment longer. He goes everywhere, he knows everything that happens, he told himself. He must know about why I have this sudden intelligence, this sudden…sense of 'I'. At least, he probably knows, especially if he has seen this sort of thing happen before. And he likes cats. Surely, it's better to ask him about all of this, rather than just talking to some mangy mutt.
Now to get his attention. With a speed that surprised even him, Maurice leaped up onto Death's lap, picked up the piece indicated, in his mouth, and ran off down the street, still carrying the piece, without looking back.
"Uh, in the mouth of a tabby cat? said the wizard, sounding more than a little confused.
MAURICE, YOU WILL RETURN THAT PIECE IMMEDIANTELY said Death.
Normally, ordering cats to do anything is a pretty futile waste of time. Cats do whatever they want to do, and it is an unwise human who tries to stop them. Sometimes, rarely, what the cat wants to do is the same as what a human wants it to do – but cats will never, can never, be slaves or servants of humans. Any human telling a cat to return – unless, of course, the cat itself actually wants to return – would be wasting their breath.
But Death does not have breath, not in the normal way in which this is understood. And the words of Death are not the same as the words of a human – they are more like action, telling the future what will happen. Disobeying them is not an option.
And so, to Maurice's extreme surprise, he found himself sheepishly returning to Death, and dropping the little figurine into his skeletal hands.
GOOD CAT said Death, patting his head.
Maurice started to purr, and suddenly had the strange sensation that he had spoken with Death before – it was like the memory of the memory of a half-forgotten dream, but it was there – however, much of his life before he had become sentient and intelligent was a blur, anyway, so perhaps it was not that surprising that he did not remember the details.
"Why am I like I am now?" asked Maurice, "Why can I talk, why do I have this strange new intelligence?" And then, remembering that this was Death that he was speaking to, rather than some mere human, he added, "Please tell me, Sir, I would be very grateful if you would tell me. Please?"
Death looked like he was about to reply – the blue light in his eye sockets glowed for a moment – but then both Maurice and Death became aware of the elderly wizard opposite them tapping his fingers impatiently on the chessboard.
"We do have a game to play," he said, and, although his voice creaked with age, it now also creaked with impatience.
Death looked from Maurice to the wizard, then back again. Death placed the little figurine carefully back on the chessboard. I AM AFRAID, MAURICE, THAT MY CLIENT HAS A POINT. HE HAS WAITED OVER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY YEARS FOR THIS APPOINTMENT, AND SO IT WOULD BE DISHOUNOURABLE OF ME TO REQUIRE HIM TO WAIT ANY LONGER, WHILE I ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS said Death, in the same dull, leaden tones, although this time there was also the hint of an apology within his voice. Death turned his attention back to the game.
Maurice looked at Death, the very old wizard, and the game that they were playing. It was probably not a good idea to anger Death, Maurice decided. It might be better for him to resume looking for the little talking dog. Besides, Death was never far away, perhaps he could talk to him when he was less distracted.
"Fine, fine, Sir," said Maurice quickly, getting up from his bony lap, "some other time, when you're not so busy, maybe?" he suggested.
GOODBYE, MAURICE, said Death meaningfully, I AM SURE THAT I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN SOON. He turned his attention back to the chessboard, muttering just loud enough for Maurice to be able to hear: TIME WHEN I'M NOT BUSY? AS IF SUCH EXISTED! Then he looked back at the chessboard with its little figurines, and then at the elderly wizard, who was watching him impatiently, then back to the chessboard once more. UM, REMIND ME AGAIN, he said, HOW EXACTLY DOES THE KNIGHT MOVE?
Maurice left them to their game, and returned to normal reality, with its everyday colours, and resolved to continue looking for the little talking dog.
1 This is not, technically, true, as there is at least one place, the Tooth Fairy's domain, where Death cannot go. This is a children's place, where there is no death (nor Death) – read The Hogfather for more on this. But Maurice did not, and does not, know about the Tooth Fairy's domain.