Chapter 2 - The Games People Play

They arrived by nightfall. The castle dominated the landscape, dark and foreboding, everything that a vampire's castle should be. The door creaked as Pastor Oats cautiously checked to see that it was not locked, and then made his way guardedly inside.

There was what looked like a very elderly butler standing in the doorway. He had scars around his forehead, and limped a bit as he closed the door (it made another ominous creaking sound). "Good evening, thur," he said, "I hope you apprethiate the creaking of the door. It took me agesth to get it jutht right."

Pastor Oats stared at him for a moment. He was clearly an Igor – a clan known for their lisps, clan markings, genius when it came to science (especially of the morally questionable kind), and tendency to be employed by powerful members of the undead, especially in Uberwald. He tried not to stare, but it was hard not to. Something else that Igors were known for was their…practical habit of exchanging body parts in much the same way that some humans would share old clothes. 'What comes around goes around' was their motto. Pastor Oats had to admit that it made sense to recycle organs that were still in good working order – yet the idea still made him feel uneasy. Still, he smiled, a bit nervously he had to admit, at the Igor in front of him, and said: "Is your mistress at home?"

The Igor turned around and started to limp back along the narrow corridor, "I will tell her that you are here," he said conversationally, "thee will be with you both thortly."

Shortly, thought Pastor Oats. He did not like the word. It might mean something different for a vampire than it did for him. Still, he decided that he had better wait until Lady Margolotta decided to come and see him.

He did not, in fact, have to wait very long. "Why, Pastor Mightily-Praiseworthy-Are-Ye-Who-Exalteth-Om Oats," the voice came out of the darkness – a friendly enough voice, but still one that made him feel wary, "what a pleasant surprise. And an orc. I must say, for a holy man, you do keep unusual company."

Pastor Oats looked at the woman who had just spoken. She wore a pink cardigan, and had slightly messy black hair, framing a friendly smile. She also wore a slightly amused expression, as she watched Pastor Oats, "I must say," she repeated, and now there was a playfulness in her voice that had not been there previously, "you don't look much like a vampire slayer."

"So you heard about that," said Pastor Oats, still watching her carefully. She is immensely powerful and strong, he told himself. She might look like a harmless, slightly excentric lady, but she is a vampire, and also one of the most influential people in the entire world. I really don't want to make her an enemy.

"I try to find out about what goes on inside my country," she said, "I have a network of spies almost everywhere. You have proven to be quite interesting, and a lot more fascinating than you at first appeared to be. And so, we have been watching you carefully." She gave him a slightly quizzical smile and nod of the head, "Tell me truthfully," she indicated her castle and herself, with a slight wave of her hand, "what do you think of what you see here?"

Pastor Oats continued to watch her carefully for a few more moments. Don't lie, he told himself – she will know if you are lying. Anyway, honesty is usually the best policy, Om knows that, "You don't look much like a vampire queen," he said at last.

An amused smile played across Lady Margolotta's lips, "And your companion," she nodded at the little orc, who had been looking around at the castle with an expression of wonder tinged with trepidation, "does not look like part of a raging hoard intent on destroying everything in sight." She gave a little laugh, "So, all three of us do not look like what we are. That raises the question – do we also act how society expects us to? Or do we all remain, under our exterior behaviour and veneer of civilization, that which we are underneath?"

"A good question, and one I have asked myself many times, over the last few days," Pastor Oats replied.

Lady Margolotta looked at him intently for a long moment, then seemed to reach a decision, "I believe that you are a good man, Pastor Oats," she said conversationally, "to the extent that such a creature exists. Certainly, the Lancre witches have great respect for you, and few people, indeed, have earned the respect of Mistress Esmerelda Weatherwax."

"I did have a very…interesting time while in her company, "Pastor Oats replied, choosing his words carefully.

Lady Margolotta gave a little laugh upon hearing that, "Indeed, all those who spend a considerable amount of time with her might say that, although 'interesting' means several things in this context, not all of them pleasant," she said, "as in the Ageatean Curse, 'May you live in Interesting times', and I believe, Pastor Oats, that you are living in very interesting times indeed."

"Not just me," Pastor Oats replied, "I believe that we are all living through a period of rapid growth and change."

"Indeed," said Lady Margolotta again, with a small smile, "as my good friend Havelock Vetinari often reminds me."

Pastor Oats wondered if they were more than friends, for there was that look in her eye, a look of…gentleness? Affection? Caring? Something more, for which there were no words?

Lady Margolotta seemed to notice Pastor Oats' expression just then, and gave a little laugh, "Even now, I am playing a game of Thud with Havelock Vetinari, using the clacks system of communication," she said, and indicated a small table, on which was a board, and several little miniatures of dwarves and trolls. "Do you play, Pastor Oats?" she asked.

Pastor Oats looked more closely at the board and the pieces upon it. Many small, weak dwarf pieces; far fewer, but far more powerful, troll pieces. And they were all on a board, their actions determined by two great minds, communicating via the development of new technology. He was sure that there was a metaphor there, although he did not know what that might be, "I am familiar with the game, but I have never played it," he said.

Lady Margolotta gave him a small smile, and indicated the board, "Like all of the best games," she said, "it is easy to learn, hard to master. A skilled player can turn every initial setback to their advantage. So it is with politics, too."

Pastor Oats looked at where the orc was now examining the board, seemingly finding it fascinating. Lady Margolotta smiled at him when she saw that, "A single dwarf piece can move the entire length of the board in one go," she said, indicating a dwarf piece, "disrupting the opponent's plans. A few carefully positioned pieces can be the difference between success, or suffering defeat."

Pastor Oats looked carefully at the orc for a moment, and then turned his attention back to the vampire, and gave her a small smile of his own, "The same as in politics?" he asked.

Lady Margolotta laughed, "Indeed, and dear Havelock Vetinari understands this. That is why, in Ankh-Morpork, he has his…ahem…pieces positioned so carefully," she indicated the board with her left hand, and pointed to a dwarf piece near the middle of the board, "Sam Vimes of the City Watch, and of course those loyal to him," she said. She pointed to another dwarf piece, this one near the edge of the board, "Vetinari, dear Havelock, and of course those loyal to him, such as his secretary, Rufus Drumknott," she pointed at yet another dwarf piece, "Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully, and of course Ponder Stibbons. Just a few of the people, the pieces, that help keep Ankh-Morpork going so well. But," and here she moved a troll piece, knocking over four dwarf pieces at once, "if another piece were to come close, an unexpected piece, one not anticipated, for all of the careful planning and positioning, then disruption to the whole nation, if not the whole world, could so easily be the result."

Pastor Oats watched her carefully for a moment, as she righted the dwarf pieces once more. "You are not just referring to Thud, are you?" he said.

Lady Margolotta laughed, "As in games, as in life. As in life, as in politics. You might even think of politics as a kind of game." She then turned her attention to the orc, and stared at him for a long moment, before turning her attention back to Pastor Oats once more, and continuing, "and even the best player cannot plan for absolutely every possibility, even if they are able to turn unforeseen circumstances to their advantage."

"I have little interest in politics," said Pastor Oats, as he noticed that Lady Margolotta was once more staring at the young orc, "but I believe that you might be able to help us. To help me," he added, then nodded towards the orc," to help him."

"Politics is all around us, whether we want it to be or not," Margolotta replied, "everything we do is political, from the clothes that we wear to the food that we eat…to the religion that we adhere to. I believe that you are an Omnian priest," she said, now staring intently at Pastor Oats, "and that the Omnians have had a huge influence in politics over the years. Indeed, they spread their religion by the sword, slaughtering those that disagreed with them, and then, upon running out of enemies, squabbled amongst themselves."

Pastor Oats had been prepared for this, so did not rise to it, "We have had a long, and," he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, "complex history. Not all of it something to be proud of, I admit. But we do not, as a general rule, go around converting by the sword anymore."

"Indeed, that does get very messy," said Lady Margolotta, a thin and slightly amused smile playing across her lips, "eventually, one realises that genocide is most inefficient. Far better to go around trying to convince other people to convert via reasoned argument," she gave him another small smile, and this time there was also a twinkle in her eye that had not been there previously, "it is hardly your fault, after all, if an Omnian priest can clear a public area faster than a dozen trolls with headaches, these headaches due, no doubt, to these trolls abusing some of their many drugs beginning with the letter S. And, when one of your priests goes around to someone's abode, the occupants of said abode so often hide behind furniture, for as long as practicable, in the hope that said priest will, eventually, get bored and go elsewhere."

"I will go elsewhere, if you are unable to help me," said Pastor Oats, determined to remain calm and reasonable, "but I request that you give me information concerning how best to help my companion," he indicated the little orc again, who was still examining the Thud board.

Lady Margolotta took a step towards the little orc, who looked up from the board suddenly, and watched her uncertainly. She frowned slightly, staring intently at him, as only a vampire can stare, "A small and seemingly harmless creature," she said thoughtfully, "just as a pawn seems harmless in a game of chess. That is, right up until the point where, having slowly travelled the entire length of the board, the pawn then becomes a queen."

"And this time, you are not just talking about chess, are you?" Oats asked, giving a quick look towards the orc.

Lady Margolotta gave a small laugh, "Again, it is a about games and politics. Both are excellent analogies for real life." She gave Oats a small smile, "But you are right, of course," she added, "this is more than a game. Still, it is useful, so, for now, I will continue to use the analogy."

"I have played chess," said Pastor Oats, "although not for some time. I know what you mean about a pawn turning out to be far more important than the players might have initially suspected."

"His Grace, His Excellency, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, once told me that he really hated chess," said Lady Margolotta conversationally, "he hated the way that the pawns were forced forward, only to be slaughtered, while the king stayed behind at the back, watching, doing nothing," here, she gave the little orc a thoughtful look, before continuing, "a useful analogy for the way in which humanity treats those deemed to be unworthy. But Vimes said that the pawns should have worked together, possibly recruiting the help of the rooks, and overthrown their own king, making the whole game a republic in a few moves." She shrugged, "I would quite like to play that version of the game," she said, looking up at where Pastor Oats was watching her carefully, giving him another small smile, "although the rules would, of course, need to be made clear to all players. Even in games – as in life, as in politics – there must be rules."

Pastor Oats was silent for a long moment, contemplating all that she had said. Finally, with a quick look at the little orc, he replied, "I don't want any harm to come to my companion, and I don't know whether or not there are any others of kind that can help and support him. I just want to give him a chance, to give him the opportunity to have a decent life. I don't know who else I can turn to for help with this."

This time, the smile that Lady Margolotta gave him was slightly wry, "And sometimes, the pawn becomes a member of the Church, a bishop, and has more power than he could once have ever imagined. Perhaps you, too, have travelled the entire length of the board."

"Are you able to help me?" Pastor Oats asked, "Please, in plain language. I don't mind games in their place, but, right now, I just want to know whether or not I am wasting my time in asking you for your assistance."

"Yes, very well," replied Lady Margolotta with a small sigh, "I will do my best to help him to become worthy, if that is what you want. I don't know if he can…" her voice trailed off, and it seemed to Pastor Oats that she was carefully considering what her next words should be, "overcome his fundamental orc nature or not, but I will give him the opportunity to try to do just that. I will give him free range of my castle, with the obvious exception of a few specialised areas, of course. I will allow him, actively encourage him, to ask anyone within this castle anything he chooses, to gain knowledge, to gain worth. They will, of course, answer his questions, demonstrate how to do anything that is asked of them, so that your companion can learn any skills that interest him, again to gain worth."

"And I have your word that he will come to no harm?" asked Pastor Oats.

Lady Margolotta signed, "I am afraid that I cannot guarantee that. There are those – many others – who want to do him harm. I will keep him safe within my castle, instruct my staff that they are not to harm even a fingernail, and I will ensure that he has sufficient food and water, and that he has time to learn. That, I can guarantee, on my word as a vampire. But I cannot ensure that he comes to no harm. However, I can assure you that I will do my utmost to ensure that he doesn't, and I would, of course, welcome any future visit from you, to ensure that I am, indeed, keeping my word." She put forward an exquisite hand, and Pastor Oats shook it, after a moment's hesitation.

"As I am sure you can appreciate, I do have other places that I need to go to, other people that I need to see," Oats gave the little orc an uncertain look, and then spoke to him directly, "Do what her Ladyship says. Look after yourself, and keep yourself safe. I will return here, but I don't know when. I do have other business that I need to attend to."

Lady Margolotta gave him another one of her small smiles, "We are, both of us, involved in the fight against evil, Pastor Oats. This has been a most enjoyable visit. I confess that I was curious about the holy man who had earned the respect of the Lancre witches. I think I now understand why Esmerelda Weatherwax and her coven consider you to be an ally and a friend."

They shook hands again, "This has been an interesting visit, for me too," replied Pastor Oats, "I look forward to the day when I will be able to return, to check on our friend," he nodded towards the little orc, who seemed to be listening intently to all that was being said.

"Don't worry about him," Lady Margolotta said reassuringly, "from this moment on, I will consider him to be my ward. This castle has thick walls, so he should be safe therein. But, if it becomes apparent, in time, that he will be safer elsewhere, then I do have allies in other parts of the world, and will send him to those places of relative safety. The word, the bond of a vampire, is not something to be easily broken, and I say this in the name of the Black Ribbon and the Black Ribboners. But, as you say, Pastor Oats, you do have other matters that you must attend to, as do I."

Pastor Oats nodded, and bid a fond farewell to Lady Margolotta and the little orc. Lady Margolotta turned to the orc, as he watched Pastor Oats depart, "An interesting holy man, our Pastor Oats," she said thoughtfully, "as the bishop in a game of chess only travels on squares of a single colour, so it seems, our friend travels only on light squares, but is nevertheless never far from the darkness. I hope he will return soon." She gave a small sigh, and focused all of her attention back on the orc, "Well, no time to keep my promise to him like the present," she said brusquely, "you are worthless, but, I believe, not unworthy. I will give you worth. Come with me, I will show you the library, and I believe that now is a good time for you to meet my head librarian, Mrs Healstether."