Part 30 (1/2)
”Er...perhaps a sherry?” she said.
”Certainly. You may leave us, Igor. Isn't he a treasure?” she added, as Igor retired.
”He certainly looks as though he's just been dug up,” said Vimes. This was not going according to his mental script.
”Oh, all Igors look like that. He's been in the family for almost two hundred years. Most of him, anyvay.”
”Really...?”
”Extremely popular with the young ladies, for some reason. All Igors are. I've found it best not to speculate vhy.” Lady Margolotta gave Vimes a bright smile. ”Vell, here's to your stay, Sir Samuel.”
”You know a lot about me,” said Vimes weakly.
”Most of it good, I a.s.sure you,” she said. ”Although you're inclined to forget your papervork, you get exasperated easily, you are far too sentimental, you regret your own lack of education and distrust erudition in others, you are immensely proud of your city and you vonder if you may be a cla.s.s traitor. My...friends in Ankh-Morpork were unable to find out anything very bad and, believe me, they are pretty good at that sort of thing. And you loathe vampires.”
”I-”
”Quite understandable. Ve're dreadful people, by and large.”
”But you you-”
”I try to look on the bright side,” said Lady Margolotta. ”But, anyvay-how did you like the king?”
”He's very...quiet,” said Vimes the diplomat.
”Try cunning. He vill have found out a lot more about you than you did about him, I'm sure. Vould you like a biscuit? I don't eat them myself, of course, but there's a little man down in the town that does vonderful chocolate...Igor?”
”Yes, mithtreth,” said Igor. Vimes nearly sprayed his lemonade across the room.
”He was out of the room!” he said. ”I saw him go! I heard the door shut!”
”Igor has strange vays. Do give Sir Samuel a napkin, Igor.”
”You said the king was cunning,” said Vimes, mopping lemonade off his breeches. Igor put down a plate of biscuits and shuffled out of the room.
”Did I? No, I don't think I could possibly have said that. It's not the diplomatic thing to say,” said Lady Margolotta smoothly. ”I'm sure ve all support the new Low King, the choice of dvarfdom in general, even if they thought they vere getting a traditionalist and got an unknown quant.i.ty.”
”Did you just say that last bit?” said Vimes, awash on a sea of diplomacy and damp trousers.
”Absolutely not. You know their Scone of Stone has been stolen?”
”They say it hasn't,” said Vimes.
”Do you believe them?”
”No.”
”The coronation cannot go ahead without it, did you know that?”
”We'll have to wait until they bake another one?” said Vimes.
”No. There will be no more Low Kings,” said Lady Margolotta. ”Legitimacy, you see. The Scone represents continuity all the vay to B'hrian Bloodaxe. They say he sat on it vhile it vas still soft and left his impression, as it vere.”
”You mean kings.h.i.+p has pa.s.sed from bu-backside to backside?”
”Humans believe in crowns, don't they?”
”Yes, but at least they're at the other end!”
”Thrones, then.” Lady Margolotta sighed. ”People set such store by strange things. Crowns. Relics. Garlic...Anyvay...there will be a civil var over the leaders.h.i.+p which Albrecht vill surely vin, and he'll cease all trading with Ankh-Morpork. Did you know that? He thinks the place is evil.”
”I know know it is,” said Vimes. ”And I it is,” said Vimes. ”And I live live there.” there.”
”I've heard that he plans to declare all dvarfs there d'hrarak d'hrarak,” the vampire went on.
Vimes heard Cheery gasp. ”It means 'not dwarfs.'”
”That's very big of him,” said Vimes. ”I shouldn't think our lads'll worry about that.”
”Um,” said Cheery.
”Quite so. The young lady looks vorried, and you'd do vell to listen to her, Sir Samuel.”
”Excuse me,” said Vimes, ”But what is all this to you?”
”You really don't drink at all, Sir Samuel?”
”No.”
”Not even vun?”
”No,” said Vimes, more sharply. ”You'd know that, if you knew anything about-”
”Yet you keep half a bottle in your bottom drawer as a sort of permanent test,” said Lady Margolotta. ”Now that, Sir Samuel, suggests a man who vears his hair s.h.i.+rts on the inside.”
”I want to know who's been saying all this!”
Lady Margolotta sighed. Vimes got the impression that he'd failed another test. ”I am rich, Sir Samuel. Vampires tend to be. Didn't you know? Lord Vetinari, I know, believes that information is currency. But everyone everyone knows that currency has knows that currency has alvays alvays been information. Money doesn't need to talk, it merely has to listen.” been information. Money doesn't need to talk, it merely has to listen.”
She stopped and sat watching Vimes, as if she'd suddenly decided to listen. Vimes moved uncomfortably under the steady gaze.
”How is Havelock Vetinari?” she said.
”The Patrician? Oh...fine.”
”He must be quite old now.”