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Chapter XXXVI
Katy couldn't remember having seen so many carriages around the Hall before -game birds and other defenceless animals were certainly going to have a rough old time of it this weekend, she'd thought- and wondered what the special occasion might be. How many horrible things could there be to celebrate, after all?
It was nearly dinner-time and Katy dearly hoped she would be dining in the servants' hall rather than with the toffs. Lord Bothermore generally preferred to dine alone –if dining it could be called- and Katy ate below stairs. When he had guests she was required to be on hand in case he needed her and she found that eating with people who were above her station –or who even thought that way- a bit creepy and actually rather yucky. On the other hand, she got on rather well with virtually all of the servants; well, not Frau Strohdachdeckerin, of course, but then the Housekeeper didn't think of herself as being a servant at all, whereas Katy did.
She'd actually found this rather odd as her experience of the real aristocracy was altogether different. The Duke and Duchess of Ankh-Morpork, Sir Samuel and Lady Sybil were a delight –everyone said so- but they were an exceptional couple. It was said that the roots of Sergeant von Humpeding's family-tree went all the way down to the shell of Great A'Tuin, but she was a vampire. Yet it wasn't these exceptions to the rule she was thinking of but rather the rule of the rulers themselves; what the Genuans called noblesse oblige.
When she'd worked for Tittler she'd interviewed –or chatted with, as they'd insisted- a great many nobles and, with a few exceptions, they'd all behaved rather nobly. They'd been kind and generous, witty, charming, modest, self-deprecatory and fairly interesting. In fact one of them, a beautiful if rather effete blue-eyed, blonde hunk called Viscount Sebastian Algernon Randolph Aloysius Fortescue Eldersombe of Felligham-Bartley and Pugh, –who Katy thought sounded like a legal firm- claimed to have fallen in love with her. He'd actually quite swept her off her feet, until she'd fallen on her arse and come to her senses. She still thought of him fondly. The aristocrats who came to Bothermore Hall weren't like that.
Oh, it wasn't that they weren't nobles –some of them had names that were pages long and ancestors who were kings back when everyone still dragged their knuckles- it was just that they weren't very, well, noble. The exception was Lord John Marbury, Lord Bothermore's special advisor.
Katy had often wondered why someone has clever, pleasant and talented as Kelvin Side worked for Lord Bothermore; she supposed it was for the same reason she did, the money. But that couldn't possibly apply to Lord John, for he was rich beyond the dreams of Petrus. He was also tall, broad-shouldered, handsome, brave, dashing, funny and brighter than a flash of lightning. He was, furthermore, good to the poor, kind to the sick and polite and generous to servants. Quite why he wanted to have anything to do with Lord Bothermore was beyond her understanding, as he stood out from all the others around him like a rabbit with antlers. When he winked at house and parlour maids, as he often did, they would sometimes faint. Of course when he did it to her she just got bats in her belly and felt a bit light-headed. No comparison.
The Reception Hall was crowded. Along with the usual ignobles there were the newspaper editors: Kelvin Side and his brother Bridge from The Tribune and The Post, respectively, plus Ozzy Charles of The Chronicle and Ozzy McMurdo of The Banner. These two were not related, though they did both come from Fourecks. In addition there were those creepy little men who kept hanging round the offices of The Post: Mr. Trilby from the Small-businessman's Association, Mr. Garage from the Concerned Citizens' Committee and Mr. Bleany from the Family Values Alliance. And she could see Frau Strohdachdeckerin lurking in the shadows, as always.
Lord Bothermore ignored them all and made straight for the tall upright figure whose fierce countenance made it quite clear that he considered himself the most important man in the room, women, needless to say, didn't enter into his calculations. Goodman Sax, the Prime Manager of the Guild of Lenders despised anyone who was poorer than he was –which was virtually everyone- and could barely tolerate people, like Lord Bothermore, who were richer. The only person he seemed to have any respect for at all was Lord Marbury. The feeling was not reciprocated. When Marbury could even be bothered to acknowledge his presence he made no secret of the fact that he found him a contemptible oaf.
And then there was Lord John himself, ignoring everyone –including Bothermore and Sax- he was striding directly towards Rose and her.
"Katy, my dear, how marvellous see you," he chuckled, taking her hand as he bowed and kissing it. She blushed and curtsied. "And Rose, beautiful as ever." Rose also blushed, deeper, and curtsied, lower.
"Easily the two most beautiful women in the room," he continued and they both giggled. Katy hated herself for it but could help it. For an aristocrat to even acknowledge the existence of servants was rare; for one to behave graciously towards them was almost unheard of.
"I apologise for the paucity of my compliment, ladies, do forgive me," he went on, looking around the room. "Ghastly, isn't it?"
"Yes, my lord," said Katy, "I mean no, my lord, I mean…" Katy blushed again, this time because she was flustered.
"Oh, don't worry," Lord Marbury laughed, "I sha'n't give you away."
Katy had heard Lord John laugh many times before. Sometimes he laughed because he found something funny, but he also often laughed at people –who no doubt deserved it- derisively, mockingly; even cruelly. This wasn't like that; this was laughter for its own sake, the way a child laughs.
"I was hoping you might be my dinner companion this evening, but alas…"
Katy was far more disappointed than him, though not in the least surprised, and then her face fell as she saw Bothermore and Sax making their way towards them. Lord Marbury noticed her change of expression.
"Might I surmise from your doleful countenance that the famed double-act, Boastful and Bloated, are approaching?"
Katy gave him the tiniest of nods.
"Fear not, fair ladies," he said, "gallantry dictates that I save you from their presence. Though I imperil my soul every time I speak to them, la bêtise n'est pas mon fort, I go!"
With that he span round and greeted the two men with completely fake, but entirely convincing, bonhomie, while Katy and Rose scurried off to their room.
As Lord Bothermore had decided that he didn't need Katy that evening she was happy that she'd be allowed to eat in the servants' hall while Frau Strohdachdeckerin would take her place in the Grand Dining Hall. Of course, as everyone would be working on dinner for the guests, then their own dinner was going to be a very late one, still, the compensation was that there would be beer and cider and even wine.
As Rose was serving dinner Katy had decided to help in the kitchen, chopping and washing-up and such like. The other servants knew that she didn't have to do this, and therefore liked her all the more, especially as she didn't act as if she were doing them a favour. Mr. Bridges had even decided to put aside a special little something for she and Rose to share as a thank you.
Servants Tea, late though it was, had been convivial as always but, because of the booze, even more fun than usual. At the end they'd all been a little squiffy. However, after their special little something, she and Rose had been a bit more wobbly than tipsy and had therefore hardly talked at all when they fell into bed and, almost immediately, fell asleep.
When Katy woke-up a bit later, because she was too hot, she thought the girl lying next to her was Sacharissa. She often had this funny feeling when waking and was always disappointed. Still, Rose was her very good friend and she was talking to herself again. Well, "talking" was something of an exaggeration, as she never opened her mouth even "mumbling in her sleep" would have been pushing it. On the other hand, Rose was clearly having some sort of argument inside her head and it was a very heated one, if all the thrashing about was anything to go by. Katy gave her a cuddle to calm her down. This always seemed to work, without ever waking her up, and she was soon snoring softly.
As her head still felt "a bit funny" Katy decided to go for a walk. She slipped out of bed and took off her ankle bells. After all, as she was going to be creeping around the castle in the dark she might as well do it as an under the bed reporter cum spy, so she wouldn't want anyone to hear her.
She eased the door open and peeped out; there was no one in the corridor, but given that it must have been after three in the morning this wasn't surprising. There'd be guards around of course, but they would mostly be outside or on the main doors; mind you, she'd noticed that there were an awful lot more of them about this time than there usually were. She closed the door gently behind her and began to tip-toe down the corridor. She always tip-toed when she had had bare feet and had been doing so since she was a little girl, and she wasn't alone in this; so did her sisters and her mum, and Rose and all the other servant girls, and Sacharissa for that matter. She wondered if they did this as children to practice for wearing high-heels, though she thought it more likely that they did it so that no one would notice them.
In the winters1 the corridors of Bothermore Hall were draughty and freezing; there were no draughts now –there probably wasn't a breeze to be had this side of Lancre- but the hallways were still wonderfully cool, especially as she was only wearing a thin nightdress, and she was enjoying it so much that it took her a while to notice the smell of tobacco smoke, fresh tobacco smoke. She had a keen sense of smell, as most women do, and it was easy to tell fresh from stale, especially as here there seemed to be an awful lot of it, so she decided to follow it. Soon she could see light under the door that was the obvious source of the smell and could hear voices from the room beyond. She quickly checked around her. If anyone should chance upon her she planned to say that she'd been sleep-walking. This would be far less convincing if she were caught peeping through a keyhole. When she was sure the halls were clear she got down on her knees and had a look.
All the notables were there, from the high –Mr. Sax- to the low –Mr. Trilby- and including a number of minor aristocrats in between. Katy had expected to see Lord Bothermore holding forth, but instead it was Lord Marbury who was commanding their attention. She couldn't hear clearly what he was saying –even though he was almost shouting- until she put her ear to the keyhole rather than her eye.
"…idiots, half-wits, imbeciles the lot of you," he raged, "about as good at your jobs as Trilby's friend Carpenter. Couldn't find hay in a bloody haystack with a dozen helpers and a hay-detector! I have had quite enough of this cretinocracy, thank you very much and goodnight. I need a drink"
She heard a door slammed and quickly checked to make sure Lord John had left before she went back to listening. Good for him, she thought. Now it was Goodman Sax's turn to speak:
"I utterly believe that he is wrong," he said. He had a ridiculously posh voice. It was far more posh than that of any aristocrat, thought Katy, and therefore obviously false.
"You are all doing splendid jobs…" he continued, until Kelvin Side interrupted.
"I don't think he meant just us, Mr. Sax."
"How dare you!?" Sax spluttered.
"I agree with Goodman and not with John," Lord Bothermore announced, ignoring the fact that "the lot of you" clearly included him too, "here is what we are going to do…"
Over the next half-an-hour he outlined how each of them was going to increase the hate campaign against Omnians and do all they could to make their lives even more miserable. They were each assigned rôles and given tasks that they must immediately start to achieve.
As the meeting started to break-up Katy ran back to her room feeling both sick and dizzy, and it was nothing to do with what she'd been drinking the previous night. When she got there Rose was mumbling again so she immediately got under the cover and gave her a big hug, though this time it was as much to comfort herself as her bedmate. And then she began to have a fierce argument with herself inside her own head. The end of result of it was that she knew she was going to have to, by some means, get this information to Sacharissa, though she had no idea how.
When the imp went off at five she was still wide awake, and not in the least bit tired. After breakfast, she and Rose went their separate ways: Rose to work and Katy to wander about in a daze. Lord Bothermore, it seemed, was indisposed, so she didn't even have his dreary inanities to take her mind off what she'd heard through the keyhole. She couldn't even try to imagine why all those nasty people wanted to encourage viciousness against Omnians, or for that matter why they hated the Omnians so much themselves. She'd heard any number of justifications, but none of them seemed to make any sense, often not even to the people who were giving them.
She'd once heard Lord Bothermore tell Lord Marbury that it was because of the excessive interest that Omnian's charged when they leant money to struggling businessmen.
"Oh, don't be such an arse, Horace," Lord John had scoffed,2 "Omnian's don't lend money at interest; –excessive or otherwise- usury is a sin before Om. Now, your good friend Sax on the other hand…"
But Lord Bothermore wasn't listening and had just blustered off.
She had to get the news out of what they were planning but she couldn't see how on The Disc she was going to do it. There was a clacks tower nearby, but they would never accept a message of the length she wanted to send, and even if they did she wouldn't have been able to afford it. There wouldn't be another mail-coach passing for at least a week, but all the conspirators were leaving the next day so would have started their campaign long before her message arrived. The situation seemed hopeless, but then the good luck fairy had tapped her on the shoulder, literally, with her wand.
Of course Katy believed in fairies, just like everyone else did, and had actually seen a few, but this was the first time she'd encountered Viel Glück in her little ballet dress.
"Ask her about her boyfriend," she said, fluttering her wings.
"What!?" Katy had asked, astonished.
"Ask Rose what her boyfriend does for a living," said Viel and vanished in a twinkle.
Katy had done as she was told and discovered that Bob Jim, the boy who she'd sometimes seen Rose chatting to outside the kitchen doors, was a messenger boy. Whenever a message was too private for the clacks but too urgent for the mail-coach then Bob Jim, or one of his fellows, would deliver it by express pony.
This was it, Katy realised. She sneaked into Lord Bothermore's office, wrote a detailed account of all she had heard that morning on a piece of his best official parchment, melted some wax on the fold and pressed his official seal into it. She then gave it to Rose, who gave it to Bob Jim, who she saw riding out with his letter-sack over his shoulder less than an hour later.
She'd addressed it: to Aspartame from Honeysuckle and requested it be delivered to El Tinto. Messenger boys were used to delivering strangely addressed letters to unusual places so she assumed that hers would pass unnoticed. She just hoped that it would arrive in time. She knew that Sacharissa would know what to do, as surely as she knew she would be listening at that same keyhole that night.
She'd gone for a walk while trying to make sense of all that she'd heard, but that hadn't worked. She'd then tried to sleep –she was probably going to be up all night again, after all. When that didn't work either she offered her services in the kitchen, where she spent the rest of the day helping the scullery-maids with all the washing-up from the night before and earning herself extra credits with the rest of the staff at the same time.
Lord Bothermore had decided that he could do without her services for that evening, for obvious reasons, she'd thought, and so she'd once again had tea in the servants' hall and had had, in spite of her preoccupations, another lovely time. When Mr. Bridges had offered her another little something, to thank her for her help, she had given it to a blushing Rose to "help her sleep", earning her extra extra-credits. Of course she could easily have just given it to Rose when they were alone, but credits are credits, after all.
They'd all been able to head off to bed relatively early as, after the excesses of the previous night, none of the guests appeared to want to stay up too late. Once they were in bed Rose had insisted on sharing the little something and Katy had agreed, though she made sure that Rose got the elf's share,3 which was easy to do in the dark. They generally only lit their candle when Rose was telling ghost-stories. Katy loved Rose's ghost-stories, though she couldn't understand why as they gave her horrible nightmares.
When they had finished the drink they spooned-up, with Katy at the back and she cuddled Rose really tightly until her deep, sonorous breathing confirmed that she was no longer on this plane of existence, as the sermonizers would say, then she got out of bed and headed towards her destiny.
This night she couldn't smell any cigar smoke and wondered if she might be disappointed –the wrong word, she knew- by there being no meeting. When she turned into the corridor that contained the meeting room, she could see light under the door –she couldn't imagine how many candles or lamps they must be burning- and as she drew closer she could hear voices, or rather one voice, as someone was clearly holding forth.
She'd hoped that it was Lord John once again berating the fools and when she peeped through the keyhole she saw that it was. When she put her ear to it, though, she wished that it weren't.
Oh, he was upbraiding the imbeciles again, for sure, but he wasn't ridiculing them for how much poison they were spreading about the poor Omnians, but how little. Katy felt sick. She'd respected Lord Marbury, admired him; even, in some small way, loved him. She couldn't understand how she could have been so wrong about him.4 All the others were now protesting that they were indeed being both vindictive and vicious but Lord Marbury was not to be placated.
"Enough!" he barked, "He is coming, He is coming soon and then we shall all be judged. You fools, can't you feel that!?"
Katy thought she could feel the silence pouring through the keyhole. After a moment or so Goodman Sax responded, in a voice that lacked all of its usual confidence:
"Yes, my lord, we can."
"Good," said Marbury, "then we can move on to more pressing matters. There is a child. It is currently residing in the House of Seamstresses in Apothecary Gardens. This child must not be in the city when He arrives."
"I have a spy inside that House," Lord Bothermore boasted.
"Yes, Horace, I know," sneered Marbury, "I have already set her in motion.
"The child she shall be brought here and kept in seclusion. No harm is to come to it until He decides what fate should become it…"
"It?" thought Katy, "I'm sure he knows the child's sex, and I'm almost sure she's a girl, yet he refers to her as 'it'. All the easier to kill her, I suppose."
She could hardly believe what she was listening to.
"Are you hearing everything clearly enough?" asked a cold, hideous voice behind her. She span round and looked up into the cold, glaring face of Frau Strohdachdeckerin.
1 The Disc's Celestial Year was 800 days long and had two summers and two winters.
2 They'd attended the same boarding school, and Marbury was one of the few people who knew Bothermore's real first name. Everyone else thought it was Henry.
3 No one knew how this phrase had arisen as elves were famous for never sharing anything.
4 This was odd given that Katy was highly intelligent and had previously had boyfriends.