literature

Dragons and Watchmen and Tyrants, Oh My! (Chp 2)

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Meeting the Tyrant

“Ah, Sir Samuel.  And Captain Laurence, yes?  Do have a seat, gentlemen, you are the first to arrive...and this is going to be a long meeting, I'm afraid.”
Vimes looked his Patrician over darkly.  He looked the same as usual, maybe a bit more tired.  His jet black hair was unadorned this afternoon, the usual skullcap most likely left in the Oblong Office.  Vimes could see the good stout boots Vetinari preferred to regular shoes, and internally smiled.  The goatee was meticulously neat as usual, and the man looked infuriatingly unaffected by this latest disaster.
Vimes sat down on the Patrician's right.
The Patrician opened his eyes again, fixing Vimes with a  withering, icy stare.  Vimes leaned back, trying to make it look dignified, but the intensity had been a good warning.  No broaching of subjects usually raised to him.  Right now, they were concerned with only this, to Hell's with anything else.
It was amazing what they could communicate with a look, though.  Carrot and Angua, along with Colon, had commented on that several times.
“How is Young Sam? And dear Sybil, as well?”
“Fine sir.  Just fine.”
Vetinari nodded, and waved a dismissive hand. “Bring Captain Laurence over here, would you?  I'd like to talk him in private, before the meeting.  I'm sure you neglected to mention Lord Rust in your list of warnings.”
Vetinari gave a lightning smile as Vimes' fists clenched.  Lord Rust was one annoyance they both agreed on, Vimes knew that.  But neither he nor Vetinari could do anything about the bastard.
Just as Vimes turned towards the door, a Clerk came into the chamber.  Wearing the usual black, Vimes almost missed the tell-tale signs.  She was a young woman, with eyes almost as blue as the Patrician's, though less icy, and tanned skin.  She was slim and attractive, and tall, standing maybe 5'9”, an unusual height in a girl.  Her hair was just past her ears, but very neat, and jet black.  Her features were fair and equine...he could almost have sworn she was related to the Patrician.  But no, she seemed more...well, lower-class, really.
Vimes realized he was staring, and that under his gaze the girl had averted her eyes and was moving more quickly.  He shook himself and continued up to Laurence.  He could hear the girl trip behind him, but as she was on the other side of the table, he kept walking.
“Captain...when that lady is finished with the Patrician, he wishes to see you,” Vimes muttered, tapping Laurence briefly on the shoulder.  The captain was self-consciously straightening his uniform, and nodded once, briefly, to acknowledge the unspoken order.
“As he wishes, I suppose.”
Vimes nodded, and then pulled out a chair.  He could hear the Patrician speaking at the other end of the table.  The girl was blushing so hard she was beet-red, and she seemed to be apologizing profusely.  Vetinari was actually smiling at her though, and Vimes furrowed his brow and scowled.  Vetinari was helping her gather the papers, and was shaking his head at her protestations.  And then she had delivered them to him, and next thing Vimes knew, she was at the door, slipping shyly out after a bow to Vetinari and himself.
“Vimes, do stop making my female assistants nervous.  Young Adrianna was most afraid you would find her choice of profession quite...unfavorable.”
Vimes gawked at the Patrician, where Laurence couldn't see.  The man flashed a lightning-quick smile, glancing up at the Commander with pure amusement in his eyes.
“Yes sir.” That was a good, stout answer, it kept Vetinari from replying, and also conveyed what Vimes wanted to get across.
“Captain?  Do come here, I think you and I have some things to discuss before any other civic leaders arrive.” Vetinari had let their conversation end, or at least be put on hold until later.  Vimes just knew that young woman was going to cause problems for him.  Vetinari had made a point of saying her first name, meaning he either had plans for her or...Good Gods, could he be protecting her?  Vimes did think the smile was warmer than usual, and Vetinari seldom smiled when dealing with his Dark Clerks...
Vimes snorted and filed the thought away.  Right now, if he dealt with these thoughts, he would be unprepared to face Lord Rust and the other parasitic bastards that were the local aristocracy.  And that could spell doom for Laurence.
Laurence looked at Vimes, who nodded once and then returned to his scowl, still trying to push his thoughts away, at least briefly.

“You wanted to talk to me, Sir?”
Vetinari had to admire how similar Vimes and this Captain were.  Oh yes, this man had far more...well, politeness, to put it bluntly.  Laurence was far more polite than Vimes, and yet...there was that same observation, and carefully neutral poker face.  And the same sharp, almost cynical gaze that still held hope for other people.  And an idealism he, as Patrician, also shared.  But this man was so much younger than them now...he was forty, maybe forty-one.  He was fourteen years younger than Vimes.  Fifteen younger than himself.
This took all of a second in the Patrician's quick mind, and he let the silence linger for another before he replied quietly.
“Sit down, Captain.  I'm sure Vimes strained his warnings on myself, most likely using a lot of expletives.” Vetinari gave a lightning-quick smile of near-amusement before he continued. “However, I'm sure he forgot to mention the Lords Rust, Selachii, or Venturi.”
“He did, indeed, forget them, Sir.”
“I do not like repeating myself, Captain.”
“He made that extremely clear on the way here, Sir.”
Vetinari nodded, holding back a genuine smile.  Vimes had certainly given enough warnings on his own quirks, the man's blank face and yet extreme curiosity and caution were well-founded.  Of course they were.  But Laurence was a good military commander, and men like that, while intelligent and clever, could still be manipulated.  In similar ways, in fact, to the ways Vetinari manipulated Vimes.
“Good.  I shall very carefully outline the things you should watch out for in each lord.  Unfortunately, Vimes and I are in agreement that these Lords are a danger to the city, but neither of us can do anything about them-”
“Sir, pardon my interrupting, but...as a tyrant, could you not technically have them executed for such an offense?  Or at least imprisoned?  It seems to me that your...restrictions, shall we say, are limited only by your own wishes to remain a...would you allow the phrase 'benevolent dictator,' Sir?”
Vetinari actually did smile this time, and he let it remain on his face as a small, almost strange ornament.
“Captain, I certainly would.  You are quite observant.  And bold.  Few would be able to stand here and say that at all, even fewer without a smirk, and fewer still would not be guessing, but stating what they have deemed to be fact.”
Laurence didn't smile, but he felt mildly proud of himself.  He decided that praise from this man must not have been very common, based on what the others had said, and this man seemed...well, the ideal politician, didn't he?
“I'll take that as a compliment, Sir.”
“To return to the matter at hand, Captain, I have taken the liberty to write you a  few notes on each Lord.  But may I suggest particularly avoiding the Lord Rust?  He is, to put it mildly, old-fashioned and set in his ways.  He neither tries to implement change nor finds it necessary to change anything.  He is rather...open with his distaste of people not a Lord, and of myself and Vimes in particular.”
“But are you and the Commander not Lords?”
“We are, but in the same sense I have come to understand that you are.  Vimes married into being a Lord, and I, though born one, am not a gentleman enough for Rust's tastes.”
“Ah, yes.  He wants to associate with gentlemen rather than just Lords, though he believes every Lord should be a gentleman.  My father is that way, Sir.”
“I'm sure your father would not march into your leaders office and demand he step down so he could initiate war, Captain.  Without trying diplomacy first, mind you.”
Laurence thought this over, and then nodded slowly. “My father would not, my Lord.  Some of his friends might, however, if it was with France.”
“Which proves your father has better survival instincts than my Lord Rust.  Either way, he is a bit...”
“I think, my Lord, the phrase you are searching for loudly is He's an idiot,” called Vimes from the other end of the table.  Vetinari nodded and then turned to Laurence again, slipping back into quieter tones.
“That is perhaps a fair assessment.  And with the survival instincts of a lemming.  I'd say Lord Rust, but that wouldn't help you much.  He's stubborn and thinks himself intelligent and subtle, though he is neither.  The others are smarter, and have more the survival instincts of a vermine.”
“A vermine, Sir?”
“They don't exist on your world? Oh dear.  A vermine is a small rodent related to the lemming.  It throws itself over pebbles, abseils down cliffs, and builds rafts to cross waterways.  The simile works here because they still put themselves in the predicament to need to do so.”
Laurence nodded thoughtfully.
“Is that all, my Lord?”
“I believe so, Captain.  Incidentally, please stick with the my Lord business.  The sir bit is reserved for Vimes and other Watch members, as well as the few rare others.”
“As you wish, my Lord.”
Vetinari nodded, and steepled his fingers as Laurence and Vimes sat down beside one another much further along the table, talking and not looking at him in any way at all.  Well, at least now he could smile a bit.  Captain Laurence was an interesting man, certainly.  And his dragon had threatened to destroy the city if anything happened to him, so it would be best if he made sure the man was safe.  Apparently he was going to need Vimes to keep the man at the Ramkin Estate.  He had a bad feeling that the end of this meeting wasn't going to be until tomorrow...and that was if Lord Rust wasn't totally insistent on suicide and demanded that Laurence and Temeraire be sent away or killed.
Vetinari sighed, and closed his eyes, calming himself by imagining the various ways he could, but never would, have Lord Rust killed.  His favorite was still the Scorpion Pit, although he could imagine some creative ways to have that go too...

It was sometime later.  Vetinari was frowning, which made both Laurence and Vimes extremely uneasy.  There were very few civic leaders here, as yet.  Mister Slant had been along not too long after Vimes and Laurence, really.  After Laurence and Vetinari's talk, at any rate.  Missus Palm had followed shortly after, and Queen Molly and Doctor Whiteface after her.  Dixie 'Va Va Voom' had come shortly after, then it had been Lord Downey after her.  He had checked his pocket-watch to make sure he had timed his entrance.  Assassins were always fashionably late...but none of the other lords had arrived before him, and he had in fact been what, for an Assassin, was on time.  Doctor Lawn had arrived, along with Miss Cripslock and William de Worde, and shortly after came CMOT Dibbler.
Following them, Mister Pony had come, along with Mister Lipwig and his wife, Adora.  They apologized for being late, but the Master of the Royal Mint pointed out that they had had lots of scared people run into the bank.
Now all present were shifting uneasily, and when the Patrician stood suddenly, half of them jumped.  Notably, the ones who didn't were Vimes, Downey, Missus Palm, Queen Molly, and Mister Slant.  Even Doctor Whiteface had jumped a bit, sitting much closer to the man than anyone else, and having been turned away from him at the time.
“Drumknott?”
The Patrician's voice was quiet, but cold and angry.  Everyone repressed a shudder, even the deceased Mister Slant.  There was so much anger in that voice that everyone knew the other civic leaders were going to be in deep trouble.
“Yes, my Lord?”
Drumknott materialized at the door, and Vetinari nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Drumknott, I want you to send some Dark Clerks around to the other Guilds and Lords.  I wanted them here nearly and hour and a half ago.  Lord Rust doesn't generally-”
Vetinari was cut off rudely by a commotion outside, in which Lord Rust's braying yells of rage were very clear.  Vimes grinned evilly.
“My Lord, shall I put shackles on him for Disruption of the Peace?  Or maybe Attempted Suicide?”*
Vetinari flashed a very fast smile, when everyone else was looking at Vimes in awe. “No, Commander.  But do assist him, I think one of my Clerks just placed her knee in a rather sensitive area of his person.”
Every male in the room crossed their legs and looked pained in sympathy, except Vimes and Doctor Whiteface, who both smiled icily.
“Yes, Sir,” Vimes said with a grin, and straightened before he opened the door and let it stay open.
Lord Rust was in the hallway, on his knees, clutching his groin.  Lords Selachii and Venturi, right behind him, had backed off immediately.  The young Clerk from earlier had her hands folded neatly behind her back, and a calmly smug look on her face.  Even Sally looked impressed.
“Ah, sorry Mister Vimes.  He threatened to hit me, so I took defensive action,” she said softly, giving him a winning smile and then sitting down next to Sally.  Vimes didn't bother gawking, instead he helped the stupid idiot to his feet and shoved him into the Rat's Chamber.  Most of the Guild leaders were behind him, and had seen him collapse, and most of the most influential Guild leaders had seen it from the front.  This day did not bode well for him at all.
Drumknott hurried out, and the rest of the Guild leaders hurried in, not wanting to be in a room with either woman.  Vimes threw Rust into a chair near Vetinari, and resumed his place near Laurence, who was trying not to smile.  He was more successful than Vimes, who was grinning.
“My Lord?  I think we can start now,” Vimes said, over the growing chatter.  Vetinari nodded, and smiled.  With a quick movement the Patrician had reclaimed his seat, and leaned forward, waiting a moment.
“Silence.” Then he reached out and plucked the axe** in the middle of the table, smiling as all movement stopped.  After a moment he smiled cheerily, if not icily, at the newcomers.  Rust was still groaning in the background.
“So good to see you all here!  Now, what delayed so many of you?  I requested your presence more than an hour ago, and yet only a total of sixteen of you showed up even close to on time.  I think I have a right to know why.”
Suddenly the temperature plummeted.  Vetinari seemed to be enjoying this, as did everyone who had been here before the sudden entrance of Lord Rust and Company.  Except for Laurence, who looked uneasy.  Still, Vimes could understand that.  This was all very new to him, and so many important people who had a bearing on his life must have been such a shock.
“Well...you see my Lord...”
Vimes and the rest turned to look at the speaker.  She was the current President of the Musician's Guild.  She was a wisp of a girl, barely twenty-five Vimes guessed, but as always she had her Pan flute^ around her neck, and was stroking the wood nervously.  She was generally considered nervous, but very intelligent, and had a sharp mind if you could get her to talk.  And she was honest to a fault.  It generally seemed to the other Guild leaders that Vetinari took pity on her because she was so young and shy.
“Yes, Miss Kiln?” asked Vetinari softly, giving her what might otherwise be called a warm smile.  On him it looked like a crocodile readying to eat the duckling it was talking to, but she averted her eyes and flushed at the attention anyway.
“W-we...we, most of us, I mean...w-we were t-talking to the dragon, My Lord.  Lord Rust...he insulted it I think...but me and Doctor Lawn calmed him...the doctor kneed him the groin to get him to shut up, so the dragon didn't get very angry with us...” she muttered, nervously fingering some song or
other on her pipes.  Vetinari nodded and the corners of his lips twitched.
“Thank you Miss Kiln.  Please, feel free to step into the hall if you feel the need.  I understand certain members of this assembly do not appreciate your nervous playing.” The Patrician nodded and flashed a smile. In this case, it was to help the poor woman's nerves, Vimes knew. Vimes had seen Vetinari try to keep her occupied at gatherings, sitting through long minutes of music to try and keep her from freaking out. The man who read sheet-music...but it helped the woman stay sane, and Vimes had to admit, only Vetinari would have the patience to talk with her for more than a few minutes. Which made him feel a bit guilty, since she was a nice lady, just not very open at all.
“Thank you, My Lord,” she murmured, and then stood and made a mad dash for the door.  Vimes grabbed it for her and let her out, and heard her whimper against it.  She really was very nervous.
“Well, on that note, I think we should open the issue to debate.”
The room exploded into sound before he'd even finished the sentence.


*Insulting a Dark Clerk, or Vetinari in front of one, or threatening one, were all considered forms of suicide in Ankh-Morpork. Along with insulting dwarfs with height, trolls with being rocky, and so forth. It was amazing the number of creative ways one could commit suicide in Ankh-Morpork.
**Someone had embedded it in the table shortly after Vimes had arrested Dragon King of Arms. The Patrician had decided to keep it in the table, and now used it as someone else might use a gavel. It worked as a good bargaining tool, certainly.
^It is worth noting that Pan exists on both the Disc and the Roundworld. He gets around a bit, but it seems inevitable that people believe in a nature god who is half-goat and plays those stupid pipes. However, to his credit, he's also the god of Lancre Bagpipes, Flutes, Clarinets, and Fifes.
I am seriously not usually one to just throw text at you on a site dedicated to art, but I needed a place to store my work that wasn't FF.net, and I decided that since I share so many thoughts on Discworld, I may as well get my favorite personal works up here for being critiqued.  So yes, critiques are welcome if you want to give them! (Well, constructive criticism, anyway...comments, you know.)
Just so everyone's clear, this is a crossover between the Temeraire book series and the Discworld (<3), the latter of which is my favorite book series ever.  Um...Yeah.  This is a weird story, but if you're already at chapter two, then I think you figured that out already...*coughs* Enjoy now.

Chapter Two: Meeting the Tyrant
In which Laurence meets Lord Vetinari, and has a talk with him.  Lots of grumbling Vimes and many guild leaders and lords get on the Patrician's bad side.
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