'Oh, monarchs come and go, they depose one another, and so on and so forth,' said Mr Slant. 'But the institution goes on. Besides, I think you'll find that it is possible to work out ... an accommodation.'
He realized that he had the floor. His fingers absent-mindedly touched the seam where his head had been sewn back on. All those years ago Mr Slant had refused to die until he had been paid for the disbursements in the matter of conducting his own defence.
'How do you mean?' said Mr Potts.
'I accept that the question of resurrecting the Ankh-Morpork succession has been raised several times recently,' said Mr Slant.
'Yes. By madmen,' said Mr Boggis. It's part of the symptoms. Put underpants on head, talk to trees, drool, decide that Ankh-Morpork needs a king...'
'Exactly. Supposing sane men were to give it consideration?'
'Go on,' said Dr Downey. 'There have been precedents,' said Mr Slant. 'Monarchies who have found themselves bereft of a convenient monarch have... obtained one. Some suitably born member of some other royal line. After all, what is required is someone who, uh, knows the ropes, as I believe the saying goes.'
'Sorry? Are you saying we send out for a king?' said Mr Boggis. 'We put up some kind of advertisement? Throne vacant, applicant must supply own crown ?'
'In fact,' said Mr Slant, ignoring this, 'I recall that, during the first Empire, Genua wrote to Ankh-Morpork and asked to be sent one of our generals to be their king, their own royal lines having died out through interbreeding so intensively that the last king kept trying to breed with himself. The history books say that we sent our loyal General Tacticus, whose first act after obtaining the crown was to declare a war on Ankh-Morpork. Kings are ... interchangeable.'
'You mentioned something about reaching an accommodation,' said Mr Boggis. 'You mean, we tell a king what to doT
'I like the sound of that,' said Mrs Palm.
'I like the echoes,' said Dr Downey.
'Not tell,' said Mr Slant. 'We... agree. Obviously, as king, he would concentrate on those things traditionally associated with kingship - '
'Waving,' said Mr Sock.
'Being gracious,' said Mrs Palm.
'Welcoming ambassadors from foreign countries,' said Mr Potts.
'Shaking hands.'
'Cutting off heads - '
'No! No. No, that will not be part of his duties. Minor affairs of state will be carried out - '
'By his advisors?' said Dr Downey. He leaned back. 'I'm sure I can see where this is going, Mr Slant,' he said. 'But kings, once acquired, are so damn hard to get rid of. Acceptably.'
There have been precedents for that, too,' said Mr Slant.
The Assassin's eyes narrowed.
Tm intrigued, Mr Slant, that as soon as the Lord Vetinari appears to be seriously ill, you pop up with suggestions like this. It sounds like ... a remarkable coincidence.'
There is no mystery, I assure you. Destiny works its course. Surely many of you have heard the rumours - that there is, in this city, someone with a bloodline traceable all the way back to the last royal family? Someone working in this very city in a comparatively humble position? A lowly Watchman, in fact?'
There were some nods, but not very definite ones. They were to nods what a grunt is to 'yes'. The guilds all picked up information. No one wanted to reveal how much, or how little, they personally knew, just in case they knew too little or, even worse, turned out to know too much.
However, Doc Pseudopolis of the Guild of Gamblers put on a careful poker face and said, 'Yes, but the tricentennial is coming up. And in a few years it'll be the Century of the Rat. There's something about centuries that gives people a kind of fever.'
'Nevertheless, the person exists,' said Mr Slant. The evidence stares one in the face if one looks in the right places.'
'Very well,' said Mr Boggis. Tell us the name of this captain.' He often lost large sums at poker.
'Captain?' said Mr Slant. 'I'm sorry to say his natural talents have thus far not commended him to that extent. He is a corporal. Corporal C. W. St J. Nobbs.'
There was silence.