'Where?'
'Do you really want to know?'
'Of course I do!'
'Well, I have no intention of telling you,' said Cosmo, smiling. 'Don't let me detain you!' he added, as Pucci stormed out of the room.
Don't let me detain you. What a wonderful phrase Vetinari had devised. The jangling double meaning set up undercurrents of uneasiness in the most innocent of minds. The man had found ways of bloodless tyranny that put the rack to shame.
What a genius! And there, but for an eyebrow, went Cosmo Lavish.
He would have to make good the failings of cruel nature. The mysterious Lipwig was the key to Vetinari, and the key to Lipwig -
It was time to talk to Mr Bent. ark ring - An unusual chin - A job for life but not for long' - Getting started - Fun with Journalism - It's all about the city - A mile in his shoes - A Lavish Occasion
THE MAN... MADE THINGS. He was an unsung craftsman, because the things he made never ended up with his name on them. No, they usually bore the names of dead men on them, men who were masters of their craft. He, in his turn, was the master of one craft. It was the craft of seeming.
'Do you have the money?'
'Yes.' The man in the brown robe indicated the stolid troll next to him.
'Why did you bring that? Can't abide 'em.'
'Five hundred dollars is a lot to carry, Mr Morpeth. And a lot to pay for jewellery that isn't even silver, I may add,' said the young man, whose name was Heretofore.
'Yes, well, that's the trick, ain't it?' said the old man. 'I know this ain't exactly proper, what you're doing. An' I told you stygium's rarer than gold. It just don't sparkle... Well, unless you do things wrong. Believe me, I could sell all I could get to the Assassins. Those fine gentlemen do like their black, so they do. They love it to bits.'
'It's not illegal. No one owns the letter V. Look, we've been through this. Let me see it.'
The old man gave Heretofore a look, then opened a drawer and put a small box on top of his desk. He adjusted the reflectors on the lamps and said: 'Okay, open it.'
The young man lifted the lid, and there it was, black as night, the serifed V a deeper, sharper shadow. He took a deep breath, reached out for the ring, and dropped it in horror.
'It's warm!'
There was a snort from the maker of things that seemed.' 'course it is. That's stygium, that is. It drinks the light. If you was out in full daylight you'd be sucking your fingers and yellin'. Keep it in a box when it's bright outside, right? Or wear a glove over it if you're a swanker.'
'It's perfect!'
'Yes. It is.' The old man snatched the ring back, and Heretofore began to tumble into his own private Hell. 'It's just like the real thing, ain't it,' growled the seemer. 'Oh, don't look surprised. You think I don't know what I've made? I've seen the real one a coupla times, and this'd fool Vetinari hisself. That takes a lot of forgetting.'
'I don't know what you mean!' Heretofore protested.
'You are stupid, then.'
'I told you, no one owns the letter V!'
'You'll tell that to his lordship, will you? No, you won't. But you'll pay me another five hundred. I'm thinking of retiring anyway, and a little extra will get me a long way away'
'We had an agreement!'
'An' now we're having another one,' said Morpeth. 'This time you're buying forgetfulness.' The maker of things that seemed beamed happily. The young man looked unhappy and uncertain.
'This is priceless to someone, right?' Morpeth prompted.
'All right, five hundred, damn you.'
'Except it's a thousand now,' said the old man. 'See? You were too fast. You didn't haggle. Someone really needs my little toy, right? Fifteen hundred all in. You try to find anyone else in this city who can work stygium like me. An' if you open your mouth to say anything but "yes" it'll be two thousand. Have it my way'