'I've been too busy to find out,' he said loftily, 'but I'm sure he will be fine when he finds his feet.' Or manages to see them without a mirror, he added to himself.
'I'm sure you must be pleased to see your old friend and colleague making his way in the world,' said Vetinari, innocently. 'And so is Pseudopolis itself, of course. I must say, I admire the sturdy burghers of that city for embarking on their noble experiment in this... this democracy,' he went on. 'It is always good to see it attempted again. And sometimes amusing, too.'
'There is something to be said for it, you know,' grunted Ridcully.
'Yes, I believe you practise it at the university,' said the Patrician, with a little smile. 'However, on the matter of football we are in accord. Capital. I will tell Mister de Worde what you are doing. I'm sure that the keen players of foot-the-ball will be interested, when someone explains the longer words to them. Well done. Do try the sherry. I am told it is highly palatable.'
Vetinari stood up, a signal that, in theory at least, the business of the meeting was concluded, and strolled over to a polished stone slab, set into a square wooden table. 'On a different note, Mustrum... How is your young visitor?'
'My visit - Oh, you mean the... uh... '
'That's right.' Vetinari smiled at the slab as if sharing a joke with it. 'The, as you put it, Uh.'
'I note the sarcasm. As a wizard, I must tell you that words have power.'
'As a politician, I must tell you I already know. How is he getting along? Concerned minds would like to know.'
Ridcully glanced at the little carved men on the playing slab as if they were listening to him. In a roundabout way, they probably were. Certainly it was well known now that the hands that guided half the pieces lived in a big castle in Uberwald, and were female and belonged to a lady who was mostly rumour.
'Smeems says he keeps himself to himself. He says he thinks the boy is cunning.'
'Oh, good,' said Vetinari, still seeming to find something totally engrossing in the layout of playing pieces.
'Good?'
'We need cunning people in Ankh-Morpork. We have a Street of Cunning Artificers, do we not?'
'Well, yes, but - '
'Ah, then it is context that has power,' said Vetinari, turning around with a look of unmasked delight. 'Did I say that I am a politician? Cunning: artful, sly, deceptive, shrewd, astute, cute, on the ball and, indeed, arch. A word for any praise and every prejudice. Cunning... is a cunning word.'
'You don't think that maybe this... experiment of yours might be a step too far?' said Ridcully.
'People said that about the vampires, did they not? It's alleged that they have no proper language, but I am told he speaks several languages fluently.'
'Smeems did say he talked la-di-da,' Ridcully admitted.
'Mustrum, compared with Natchbull Smeems, trolls speak la-di-da.'
'The... boy was brought up by a priest of some sort, I know that,' said Ridcully. 'But what will he become when he grows up?'
'By the sound of him, a professor of linguistics.'
'You know what I mean, Havelock.'
'Possibly, although I wonder if you do. But he is, I suggest, unlikely to become a ravening horde all by himself.'
Ridcully sighed. He glanced towards the game again, and Vetinari noticed.
'Look at them. Ranks, files,' he said, waving a hand over the little stone figures, 'locked in everlasting conflict at the whim of the player. They fight, they fall, and they cannot turn back because the whips drive them on, and all they know is whips, kill or be killed. Darkness in front of them, darkness behind them, darkness and whips in their heads. But what if you could take one out of this game, get him before the whips do, take him to a place without whips¨Cwhat might he become? One creature. One singular being. Would you deny them that chance?'
'You had three men hanged last week,' said Ridcully, without quite understanding why.
'They had their chances. They used them to kill, and worse. All we get is a chance. We don't get a benison. He was chained to an anvil for seven years. He should get his chance, don't you think?'
Suddenly Vetinari was smiling again.
'Let us not get sombre, however. I look forward to your ushering in a new era of lively, healthy activity in the best sporting tradition. Indeed, tradition will be your friend here, I am sure. Please don't let me trespass any further on your time.'