This is written by request of someone. And there is the answer of a question. I hope you would like it.
I want to see the sky from above
Chapter 5: The dinner
The Shadow stood behind the door, when someone knocked on it. Susan sighed hostily and shouted fretfully: 'Yes?' The door opened and the landlady entered worriedly, stepping slowly and delicately into the interior of the room.
'I'm sorry, Your Highness' said miss Rose, starting a silly uncouth curtsey. 'There is a man on the main door… he says he wants your short audience…'
Susan sighed with boredom. Since last night she had become everyone's attention, gossiped here and there. This morning she had two meetings with people she had never even heard of, but being such 'high ranking aristocrat' and especially the heir of Sto Helit, that was too much. Chancellor Bushmaster was a man with high spirit and quite committed desire to saddle someone else with the task taking his time too long. When he discovered Susan's appearance into the real world, he thought it would be the perfect solution of his problems. If she wants or not – that was something particularly not attaching his mind. Who cares what one wants, if there is a possibility to get rid of something you don't like doing any more and desire stay behind and enjoy the view?...
The worst was that Chancellor Bushmaster went too far. He transmitted his engagements to Susan, and left the city early in the morning. What Susan received from him was a big pile of files and papers, a bag with diplomatic mailings, some specially sealed letters with instructions, the tiny key for his secret safe in the Embassy and two stocky guys at her boarding house door. The landlady was in rage, but soon the merchant spoke in her head and she understood it was much better for her the situation to remain the same. She even willingly ceded her own study for her special needs, encouraging her to move there and proceed with the papers and whatever she was doing there, turning herself into some kind of a personal secretary. After all, soon her boarding house would be quite more famous throughout the city, as the personal residence of Sto Helit's duchess. She could already taste the money deluge coming into her pockets.
'Shall I let him in?' asked miss Rose and bowed gently, turning her look down. Susan sighed again and rounded her eyes.
'Yes, please, miss Rose. Thank you for the support.'
The landlady smiled nervously and curtseyed clumsy. 'It's my pleasure, Your Highness. By the way, the ambassador of Lanker is waiting too, Your Highness.' answered the young woman and started exiting. 'It's Your Grace, miss Rose' said Susan, hiding her anger. 'not Your Highness. I'm not a princess or something like this. Yet.'
'Yes, Your Highness' answered miss Rose and curtseyed again, closing the door at her face. The shadow moved to Susan's desk and stared at her, questioning with no words. Susan arched her eyebrows and sighed deeply. John nodded quietly and stood at her back, before the door of the study opened again. A black dressed young man entered, stood at her front and bowed politely. The flower bucket in his hands laid the desk's top. He gave the letter to the lifted hand of John.
'My master wishes to congratulate you for your new statute, Your Ladyship. He would like to invite you at a dinner, if you have no other plans for the evening, Your Grace.'
Susan took the letter from John's hand and cracked the seal, already reading. The man at her front nervously cleared his throat.
'My master would like to receive your answer as soon as possible, Your Grace' continued the Assassin. 'His Lordship would be pleased if you do.'
Susan red the paper for second time. It was short, quite polite and had no word for the marvellous evening they had spend together. She hesitated to answer with 'No', but something inside her made her nod and say 'Yes, I would be honoured.'
The assassin bowed politely and smiled, before exiting. Susan stared at John, he stared at her back and pronounced calmly: ARE YOU SURE, SUSAN?
She had the same question in her head. To be sure? How the hell could she be sure? Going on bachelors premises in the evening… How to be sure? Why would he like to dinner with her? Share another secret? Tell her something else about the recent changes in Ankh-Morpork? Reminding her how much had she lost, while she was separated from her life, while being in her forced exile from everything she knew and… loved? But the truth was that she really wanted to see him again.
She sighed and looked at the book in her hands. It was a middle class history study book, included the last fifty years period. It was quite boring, most of the things she knew already, but there were several points she could never accept if she didn't have an officially written governmental school book in her hands.
Yes, she knew about Lord Vetinari's retirement. It was not something she wouldn't know, being Death's granddaughter. Few years ago she run into her grandparent exiting, viewing his hourglass in his bony hands. She could imagine what could happen next, but when Death returned from his voyage, there was a strange flame in his eyeholes. The same flames he had, while losing on chess. Susan followed him into the hourglass hall and saw him putting the same hourglass at its recent place. When he passed her at the exit, he lifted his shoulders and said nothing. There was no need. Susan remembered how long she laughed that evening. Death closed himself in his study for some time. When he returned the next evening, he asked Susan if she would join him for a chess party. This time he won. He was a very good student after all.
The next she didn't know was who took the vacant position of a leading person in the city. When she red the name, she laughed silently. It was something she would never suspect. There must be something very wrong about the city in the recent days, because Captain Carrot was strictly clear about a future political career. She knew him well, and she knew Angua too. She couldn't imagine Captain Carrot as a Patrician, but she couldn't imagine Angua as Patrician's girlfriend. She wouldn't be anybody's wife, if she could prevent it, and that was what she did.
The next she didn't know was the second war with Klatch. It was much more apolitical than before, it took some weeks to establish some kind of agreement between Ankh-Morpork and Klach's emperor, before Sir Samuel got angry enough to go into some strategic steps, breaking into the dusty klatchian night, arresting the emperor in his own tent and manifesting in his mind that if he ever try to do any actions against his town, he would gladly imprison him personally into the Watch dungeon and throw away the key into the first sewer hole. The Klach's emperor had to admit something very important: Samuel Vimes was a man he should never joke with. He was too unpredictable, too dangerous and too far from manipulative to deal with. As no much cops he knew. The war ended as it began – with a lot of noise and no explanation why and who.
Some hours later Susan was too tired to do anything else. She stood up from her chair and dragged to the study window, trying to clear her mind from everything she had to go through today. At first place, it was Chancellor's 'gift', then all her duties she used to escape from, Lady Sybil's visiting and her special smile dragging into Susan's brain and now that. She coughed her self thinking about the dinner at the Assassins Guild. It made her shimmer as never before. When Susan lifted her head, she saw John looking at her. He had no expression on his face. He thrust into his pocket and produced an hourglass from there. Susan sighed tiredly and leaned on the desk, wailing with boredom and fatigue. She looked at John, rounded her eyes and tried to get rid of the tiredness and every thought coming with it into her mind. She lifted her hand and put it into John's.
---
The Assassins Guild was a large wide building in a specific gothic style, facing a crowdie street. The carriage stopped at its main gate, two husky lads jumped from the driving box, observed the perimeter, stopping anyone coming too near, making a small throng of morporkians, peeping what is going on. Susan stepped out of the carriage, made a disgusted look at her guards and let them knock on the gate.
The gate man stared at her and nodded quietly, opening the door for Her Grace the Duchess of Sto Helit. Susan rounded her eyes, letting the man lead her up the stairs. She turned back to see if John followed, but he stood in the middle of a small group of assassins, giggling and picking his clothes. He looked at her questionably, receiving nothing but arched eyebrow, and stood where he was. The gate man led her through the corridor, filled with any sort and measure assassins, observing her irritated movement with interest. Susan was tired enough to let their attention unpunished. The guards following her let them know what would follow if they don't disperse. The observers obeyed quietly, still keeping their smiles on their faces.
The President's premises were at the end of the corridor on the first main floor, taking a huge and quite classical well-appointed place. The gate heading its pass was solid and dark as everything around. Someone, not knowing where he is, would describe the place as a gentleman's club, quite cosy and tastily furnished. Susan nodded to her guards while they took their positions at the gate. There was a man at the Head Assassin's premises, the same man Susan met at her study in the morning. He bowed politely and entered into the huge office, quietly leading Susan to the next room, where his master was.
Susan didn't expect him dressed so ordinary. While he was a boy, he used to dress as an assassin. Even when his mother urged him to join her shopping tours, he preferred such clothes. His taste was quite strict and unchangeable. When Susan danced with him on the Vimes-Ramkin ball, he was the absolute personification of assassin. What Susan saw here in his cosy parlour, was quite different than everything she knew and expected about him. He wore grey trousers, grey shirt and dark green jacket. Susan had to admit he had style after all.
'Welcome, miss Stow.' Samuel Jr. made a small step to her, but stopped his pace. He looked at her eyes and made a small step at her direction, already reaching for her hand. 'Have you slept well, Your Grace?' Susan looked at him, lifting his lips from her hand. She nodded quietly.
'Yes, thank you. I could sleep this night.'
He winkled his eyebrows. 'It sounded like you don't sleep at all.'
She sighed in reply. 'It happens sometimes, but rarely in the last few weeks, thank you for your care.' She stared with misunderstanding and rounded her eyes. The Head Assassin gazed at her face for long time, then he walked her in and closed the door in his secretary's face. He led Susan to the cosy armchair at the middle of the room, close to the heather. She sat there, observing his quiet settlement at the armchair opposing hers. He had a face, like he would like to say something, but hesitated because of the many questions and prejudices it would bring afterwards. Susan sighed quietly.
'I am sorry for my fast desertion last evening.' she said, looking at his anxious face, then she stared down at her fingers, picking at her black cotton dress. 'I had very important work to do and if I wouldn't have danced with you I would have done it.' She looked at him again. He was glancing at her with misbelieve, but still some kind of admiration. 'I do apologise, I had to…'
'It doesn't matter, miss Stow' said Samuel Jr. in a hurry. 'I thought I would have to explain why I brought you here this evening.' He started playing with his fat black cat, spreading on his lap. He had a face that showed his hesitation in pronouncing the words with slow and desperate continuation. 'The first reason is to be sure you are feeling fine. I have to admit I feel I have to follow your health condition closely.' He cleared his throat and looked at her. 'Last night you looked so tired and sleepless, and starving… I know this is a stupid thing to do, but I can't stop it. You may think I am a man with too much interest in theme and place I have no right to penetrate, but I am a true descendant of my father and I do say what is in my mind and on my heart.' He gazed at her, taking breath from his fast statement. She was looking at him with interest. 'The second thing I invited you here is because I had to tell you that your uncle's appearance in the city brings many questions I would like to ask if there is no problem for that and because I am an honest man I would like to inform you about my interest in your relative. I believe he has to present himself in the guild if he has some business to do, so I would like to invite him to do so through you. And thirdly…'
Susan rounded her eyes with boredom. Sam Vimes Jr. stared at her empty look and stopped his rapid tirade.
'Are we going to have a dinner?' asked Susan, still fixing her eyes in his direction. The Head Assassin sighed slowly and stood up from his seat, rushing for her hand. She accepted his help with a smile and followed him to the wide open door where the servants finished their tasks. Sam Vimes led her to her place, waited until she settled and sat at her left, on his usual place. Susan sighed deeply.
'Thank you for the invitation, sir.' she said, after taking some salad from the dish the servant presented at her reach. 'I don't remember how long haven't I taken such kind invitation before.'
He remained silent.
'And thank you for being such skilful dancer, sir.' she continued. 'I haven't dance for many years. Not with such passion and desire.'
She looked at him, knowing already she had told too much, biting her cheeks from inside. He was pale, trying to avoid her eyes. She sighed deeply and put her attention into her dish. The servants returned with the next meal, then with the next and finally with the desert. They barely spoke while dining, everyone of them was too confused to say anything at all. Samuel Vimes Jr. was still silent, sometimes he stared at her, sometimes he tried to transfer his stare somewhere else, but still looking at her – through the reflection on the glasses, the salvers on the tables nearby, the mirror at the end of the dining room . Susan felt there was something wrong here. She hoped the evening would finish sooner, she felt the uneasiness coming into her like a tired deluge, she tried to press her stare somewhere she could train her eyelids not to fall. She was quite tired and the process of food destruction with the quiet Mr. Head Assassin made her yawn. He was such interesting interlocutor last night. What happened? Where did the yesterday Sam Jr. go? Who that man here was?
She yawned visibly, giving Samuel Jr. know he had come too far. No lady ever yawned at his presence. He was too skilled to let it happen. The truth was that Samuel Vimes Jr., the President of the Assassins Guild in Ankh-Morpork, was in a rare position to speak, but his lips now were sealed. He never had such unknown interlocutor before. Her Ladyship was an interesting subject, he should admit she was a rare find, a lady with style and a head. He didn't know her for log time, but she looked and felt so familiar. He felt he had never been away from her. That puzzled him. That made his mouth shut. After her rapid detraction last night he felt there was something wrong with his life, with himself. When he returned home, he opened the wardrobe to hang up his clothes and what he saw made him shimmer. There was darkness, shadows, silhouettes, nothing more, nothing less. Early in the morning he went shopping. These were his first coloured clothes since his tenth birthday. He felt some kind… different, but quite satisfied when he saw her eyes, looking at him this evening.
Susan was fighting with her sleep, picking her spoon into the ice-cream the servant brought them both. She leaned on her chair, putting her head on her raised hand, resit against the chair's arm. Sam Jr. observed her playing with the ice-cream and smiled. She was not anxious at all. She must have come here just from a curiosity to know what would happen. After all, he hadn't invite a lady for a dinner from… Well… from never. Especially in his premises, where he usually accepted his mistresses, coming through the secret back entrance known for the Head Assassins only. Miss Susan Stow was a lady. She was even something more: she was a duchess, the mistress of Sto Helit. And nevertheless she would have to think about her reputation, she came here. In a bachelor's premises. And what was he given her? A time to be bored, an occasion to yawn. He looked at her. She was blinking heavily, her head leaning on her palm heavier than before.
'Would you like some tea, miss Stow?' asked Sam Jr. looking at her. She startled and stared at him, nodding. 'Yes, I would like some nice hot tea. Thank you.'
Sam Vimes Jr. stood up and reached for her hand. She followed him calmly into the drawing room, resit serenely in her armchair and stared at the fire in the heather. The Head Assassin followed her eyes and sighed deeply. She burst into his eyes, questionably. He cleared his throat.
'Have you thought about my question?' asked the man, correcting himself rapidly. 'The second one, I mean. About your uncle.'
She rounded her eyes.
'Why don't you ask him about that? After all I'm not his baby-sitter.'
He smiled and stared at her fingers, picking on the chair's moss.
'I would, of course, but I preferred to ask you first. I thought your uncle would listen your advice better than mine. After all I'm the President of the Assassins, but you are related with him.'
'A strange way of thought, I admit, sir.' said Susan and looked at the flames fixedly. 'Is this the reason to have me here?' She stared at him. He stared back with pale face. 'Why exactly did you bring me here?'
Sam Jr. hesitated to answer. She rounded her eyes, leaning closer to him.
'You were interested last night, weren't you?'
'Interested in what?' he blinked nervously.
'In me.' answered Susan. He coughed anxiously, then he blinked some more and in seconds time, answered, staring at her.
'Yes.'
'And now…' said Susan, looking at the flames again. '…you want to… sleep with me?'
He should lean on the table at his back to prevent his collapse on the floor. She looked at him from down to up and followed, tiredly: 'I don't have anything on mind against it.'
He stared at her from above and made a step aside, to the booming heather, illuminating the room with its special radiation. He had to admit he didn't expect it. He had a long time to think, before answering.
'I…' he cleared his throat. 'I must admit you hit the bull's eye, miss Stow.' He turned to her with genuine eyes. 'I am a man known for saying what I am feeling… I know what you think now.' he said, looking back at the flames. 'A man too devoted to his job, doesn't have time to make any special contacts, a man accustomed with the fast relations, looking at today, but not tomorrow. You might be right, I am such man, but I never thought I could ever feel such… Before you said you are not against out gathering as… lovers… I thought you would never accept such treaty with a man such below your rang…'
She sighed with boredom, rounded her eyes and stood up. 'If you believe so, than you expect I would decline to make love with you. I don't believe you know me too, sir, but I am also known for my big mouth. Maybe you are right about many things, but what you stated just now, about the rang thing… This insults me. I was educated differently. No one is lower than me in my mind. Yes, I am a god damn duchess, but I am also a woman and as such I could make love with whom I want, and I thought I would have… experienced something very special with you, the same passionate desire what I experienced last night while we were dancing.' She moved her eyes down, playing with the special carpet at the heather. She whispered: 'I have no much time left. You choose.'
He stared at her reddening face, the rage and the shyness suited her, she was so beautiful, while her eyes sparkled in anger, her waist, her thighs shimmered, her breasts jumped while she was breathing and waiving her arms. And still she remained so gentle, he couldn't even think touching her frightened that he could break her apart. He jumped from his place by the heather and grabbed her in his arms, kissing her neck in breathless passion. She put her arms around his neck and let his lips go further, leaning over her, unbuttoning her dress top, lifting her cotton skirt, embracing her naked thighs, lifting and letting them round his waist. He lifted his lips to her mouth and pressed them in a deep kiss. She murmured, letting him pull her down, leaning over the bear's hide, carpeting the floor. She cried when he found his way into her, he looked at her scarely, but her eyes made him proceed. She unbuttoned his shirt, pulling and tearing his buttons, his collar, the fabric, sinking her teeth into his skin, clawing his naked back, while he was moving faster and faster, groaning and yelling her name. She shimmered when he ended, putting his forehead on her naked breasts, still whispering her name, kissing her skin, touching her everywhere he could reach. He rolled out of her body breathless and closed his eyes for a second, then he looked at her. She was staring at the ceiling, watching the flames reflections playing with the darkness of the room. She stretched her clothes, moved up and stood slightly dizzy, buttoning her dress top.
Sam Jr. stared at her with interest, rolling to see what she was doing. He pulled her skirt down. She looked at him and avoided his eyes. She had tears in her eyes, repeating in her mind: 'What have I done? What have I done?!!' She turned her back to his body leaning in her feet, trying to swallow what had left from her self-respect. Making love with… Young Sam. The boy she knew twenty years ago… What a shame. What would his mother say?
Oh, gods, remembered Susan. Twenty years ago… He was a boy in her memories, but now he was a man. The man she just made love with. A man that made her feel. At last. She had forget that feeling. Twenty years… Even Lobsang couldn't make her feel even close than what she was feeling now. While they made love, she tried to remember why was she here and she could admit she started forgetting. He made her forget. He made her feel. He made her want to live again…
'Are you going somewhere?' asked Sam. Susan looked down at his naked body and answered: 'I have to go home.'
He jumped from his place and stood at her front. 'You aren't serious, are you?'
She looked at him tenderly, put a hand on his face and stared at his deep eyes, trying to find herself there. He made a step at her direction, pressed her to his body and put a kiss on her neck. 'I am not letting you go.' he said, caressing her back with his tender fingers. 'I was waiting for you too long.' He tried to slip her on the bear hide again. She murmured and bit his ear with a passion she had never experienced. She removed her hands from her dress front, letting him unbutton her top again, then he lifted her in his hold and took her to his bedroom.
---
The Shadow of Death could hardly rid of his new comrades, letting them drink their precious cognac in the meeting hall, sitting and giggling in front of the huge heather. He felt the dizziness again. That was a sign that he had to find Susan. He could feel the hourglass in his pocket already. He could swear it wasn't there before, but it always happens so. Susan was gone for… some hours. He knew exactly in which direction to go, he could feel her scent everywhere. Even if he was sealed in a chamber deeply under the ground he knew where exactly to face knowing if he dig hard enough he would reach Susan. Or anyone else.
He went out of the main chambers and moved upstairs, following his seventeenth feeling. He went through the walls separated him from his companion, the scent became heavier and somehow… concentrated with some other scent. He walked through the next wall and stopped. He had to stop because he had never seen Susan in someone's bed before. She was calm and silent, although he knew she wasn't sleeping. He made a quiet step at her direction, trying not to scare her. She turned her grim eyes in his direction and shimmered. The Shadow of Death smiled sadly and produced an hourglass from his pocket. Susan looked aside to her sleeping lover and stared at him for very long time. Then she moved up, reaching for her scattered clothes. The Shadow of Death put his eyes aside, while she was dressing up. Then he looked at her, staring at him with her wistful eyes and followed her disappearance, ogling at the naked man at his left.
---
'That was enough!' shouted the man at the glass boll, put on the round table. 'What are you trying to do?'
Death lifted his bony shoulders and looked at Lobsang's angry face.
'You promised if she ever goes into this kind of relation…'
I NEVER SAID THIS. Answered Death, staring at Lobsang's reddening face.
'You promised me. When you forbade me visiting her, you said the time will come and I could share my interest with her.'
YES, I REMEMBER WHAT I SAID. BUT YOU ARE GOING TOO FAR, LOBSANG. I NEVER PROMISED YOU ANYTHING ACCORDED SUSAN'S FEELINGS. AND I NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT THAT!
The Time's face reddened again. He turned to Death's face and fixed his angry stare where his eyeholes were. 'I shouldn't have listen to you!' He shouted. 'I could have taken this for so many times. But you… you made me calm down. You knew what I feel about her and still let her go!'
I CAN'T LET HER STAY, LOBSANG. YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHY I DID IT.
Death looked aside, where Binkey was standing. He turned back to Lobsang and whispered slowly:
YOU STILL HAVE TIME TO DO ANYTHING.
'What?' shouted Lobsang. 'Do what? I can't turn what had been done, you know I have no right to do it just because I want it.'
YOU ARE TIME, smiled Death. AND I AM DEATH. YOU KNOW WHAT I DO SOMETIMES. IF SOMEONE COULD WIN ON CHESS SESSION I COULD GIVE SOME… DELAY…
'You mean…'
YES. I AM DEATH AND SOON OR LATE EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE TO LOSE. I AM A WINNER, BUT SOMETIMES IN SOME SPECIAL CASES… I HAVE TO PRETEND I COULD LOSE.
He put his hand on Lobsang's shoulder and smiled:
AFTER ALL SHE MADE HER CHOICE, REMEMBER? BY TURNING THE HOURGLASS…
Lobsang stared his astonished eyes in his.
'I thought it was Commander Vimes…'
Death smiled again. THIS IS WHAT EVERYONE THOUGHT. IT OFTEN HAPPENS SO, WHEN THE FATHER AND THE SON HAVE THE SAME NAME. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, DO YOU?
He stared at Lobsang.
'They were fated.' Answered the Time.
INDEED. said Death and started to turn. BUT YOU COULD STILL DO SOMETHING. AND YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
Lobsang cleared his throat, staring at Death's direction. The grim bony man nodded and disappeared. The Time smiled for a second, then he looked at the glass boll again.