More Tales From the Guilds Ch. 15

Ponder Stibbons, Vice-Chancellor, HEM, DThau, Reader in Non-Volatile Intelligence, Cantoride Speaker in Slood Refurgance, and at least nine other titles, was happily humming to himself late one afternoon as he filed the day's set of papers and publications. It was a gentle, repetitive task that he found most soothing as opposed to dealing with the other members of the University Council. He really didn't like just using his twelve University positions to outvote and overwhelm them but sometimes there was no other choice. So long as he didn't make Ridcully raise a skeptical eyebrow at him, the University would continue to run smoothly. So he really was temporarily content, until a worrisomely familiar tone from the past caught his ear. Then his office door closed and locked--by itself.

A golden haze started from a pinp0int and grew to the size of a man and out of it stepped a heart-stoppingly beautiful woman clad in hardly anything at all. Ponder froze and swallowed.

"Pe--Petulia? Wh--what brings a goddess to Unseen?"

The Goddess of Negotiable Affection stepped behind Ponder's office chair and casually leaned an forearm on his shoulder.

"Vice-Chancellor, my darling, the last time we met, I invited you to come up and see me sometime. You never have. Is there something wrong?"

Stibbons opened and shut his mouth several times in a hopeless attempt to reply. This wasn't helped by the fact that Petulia started nuzzling his hair and reached down with her other hand to affectionately stroke his jaw. She gestured towards the filing cabinets and the diminished pile of documents.

"I know your duties are stressful at times and that you feel an understandable need to relax but these are a sorry excuse for genuine stress relief. What you really need is the ministrations of a caring, professional Seamstress. You need someone who can relax the knots in your shoulders and relieve the essential tension of a young man living a monastic existence."

By now Ponder was beginning to sweat and blush profoundly. "Uh, uh, uh..."

"And don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about, dear man. We goddesses are perfectly capable of seeing through time and I'm fully aware of those delightful months you spent with Diamonda (or more properly, Lucy Tockley) back in Lancre. By the way, I also know that the wizards' rule of celibacy is more a guideline than an actual law. Look how happy Mrs. Whitlow and the Senior Wrangler are, not to mention both the professors Barcbeadle. There is nothing in the Lore that forbids you from taking the occasional evening stroll down the lane to visit my ladies and for your own good, you should! Now, I'm going to let Mrs. Palm know that you will be stopping by this evening and that she should find someone appropriate for you to visit. Don't disappoint me again, Ponder, darling."

She kissed him softly on the cheek, disappeared and the door unlocked.

The vice-Chancellor sat paralyzed in his chair. Petulia didn't give the impression of being a lightning bolt throwing sort of deity but she had believers all over the Disc. That gave her a lot of power and made her a goddess not to be trifled with. Oh, dear. She expected him to show up at Mrs. Palm's House of Negotiable Affection this evening and the implication was she didn't intend to take 'No thank-you' for an answer. He shuddered and looked at the time. Probably a shower and a stiff drink were in order.

*****

"Ah, Vice-Chancellor! So good to see you, Professor Stibbons. We--got word that you would be stopping by. Do come in and meet the ladies." Rosemary Palm was no longer the slim, sensual slip of a girl she had been years before but she had taken care of herself and the years sat lightly on her. Ponder's eyes were inextricably drawn to her generous decolletage and when she took his hand to welcome him in, followed helplessly.

Suspecting from his reaction that what the wizard needed this evening was someone more maternal than spicy she led him into the lobby and pushed him gently onto a sofa. Bending down to take his tall, pointy hat and hang it on a hook, she gave him an even better look down the front of her blouse and shimmied a bit. Ponder's jaw dropped and then shut decisively. Rosie smiled. He's really trying so hard to control himself. We need to get him over that.

"Sarah, come welcome the Vice-Chancellor. I'm sure you two will have a splendid time together this evening. Oh, and do bring the man a drink. He needs one."

Sarah was a buxom Howandalander with very dark skin of a slightly reddish cast, a beaded Cleopatra hairdo and just as much cleavage as her employer. She poured two glasses of wine and then swayed over to hand one to Stibbons before settling herself comfortably on his lap. She reached around his neck with her free hand and began to stroke his jaw just as Petulia had a couple of hours before.

"Welcome, Vice-Chancellor," she purred, "It's so good of you to come for a visit. Mrs. Palm tells me that Petulia believes that you are overworked and overstressed and badly in need of what we offer. Be assured that I am very skilled in helping tense gentlemen develop a more equitable frame of mind. Hopefully I can send you back to First Breakfast with a smile on your lips and a spring in your step. You are far too young to be so strained."

Ponder stared at his glass. What he wanted to do was toss it back and ask for another, maybe two. But it simply wouldn't do to appear to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He was not, after all, a virgin. Lucy Tockley had seen to that and he had fond, though well-concealed memories of those months they spent together. The Archchancellor had once asked about her and when Ponder stuttered, had changed the subject with a twinkle in his eye. Maybe he should just take a deep breath and let the evening take its course. Sarah was, happily, a warm and comfortable lapful who showed every intent of being very pleasant company.

*****

In the University dining hall the wizards regarded Ponder's empty chair with bewilderment.

"Is he ill?" the Lecturer in Creative Uncertainty asked, "I can't imagine a wizard skipping a meal without some reason."

"He had a divinely directed appointment in the city," Ridcully said with a twinkle in his eye, "and it just doesn't do to turn down that kind of appointment."

The Lecturer looked askance. "Some god told our Vice Chancellor to go somewhere in Ankh instead of attending dinner? I'm amazed. Why would one do that?"

"A goddess," Ridcully corrected, "and believe me, she has reasons of her own that we needn't explore here. Besides, the soup course arrives."

Goddesses of the Disc were mostly clad in thin shifts, if anything, and the image of one appearing to Ponder Stibbons and telling him to skip a meal was a major puzzle for the Senior Faculty. It simply made no sense--unless you were Phoebe Barcbeadle (neé Emergent-Weatherwax) who had a very clear image in her head and giggled softly over her soup. Though she had no idea just which goddess might be involved, she knew the streets of the city well and, having had a life before Unseen, was rather more worldly than most of the faculty. A particular goddess sent the Vice Chancellor into a particular street in the city during dinner. Phoebe rather imagined she knew which street it was and found the idea vastly droll.

Do him a world of good, she thought to herself, and I may just do a world of good for my Jeromy tonight. He hasn't been sleeping well of late so I think I'll just take the opportunity to wear him out!

*****

Phoebe had been right. The next morning Ponder strode into the dining hall for First Breakfast with a spring in his step and a broad smile across his face. Most wizards preferred to sleep in and just skip the meal but Archchancellor Ridcully arose early, went for a jog, and did fifty pushups before showering and dressing. He raised a fork (with sausage on it) to Ponder in greeting.

"So, Stibbons, was the evenin's entertainment worth skippin' dinner last night?" he asked with a broad wink.

Ponder tried to glower at the Archchancellor but it didn't work. "To be honest, Archchancellor, it was. I had no idea how tense I had become over the last few months and Petulia's--'prescription' turned out to be just what I needed. It's as though a weight has been lifted from my shoulders."

Ridcully hid his smirk behind an immense mug of coffee. "Does the prescription have a name? Anyone who can so brighten up our overly-serious Vice Chancellor really deserves to be well-advertised. Not that any o'the faculty would be likely t'visit, o'course, but there are always the students."

"Her name is Sarah and that's all I'm going to say other than she is a dear sweet young woman from Howandaland. I may just get in the habit of visiting her regularly, especially when I'm feeling a bit out of sorts."

Ridcully nodded. "An excellent idea for a man o' yer age. I person'ly find spendin' an hour or two with a fly rod on a trout stream to have a sim'lar effect but then I've got more than a few decades on yer. However, I remember well the fires of m'youth. If Esme hadn't been so light on 'er feet they might have kept me from returnin' to Unseen. By the way, the crepes are exception'ly fine this morning. Go get yourself a restorative pile before the others show up and take them all."

Ponder stood at the breakfast buffet line, pondering. At last he covered his plate with crepes and added some sliced ham, a couple of eggs over easy and a light dressing of hollandaise. That seemed a good start so he added a bowl of fresh figs covered in cream, another of porridge and a large coffee. Now, he thought, he was in the mood for First Breakfast.

The Archchancellor saw the meal his Vice had laid out for himself and nodded in approval. He had been thinking Ponder was a bit off his feed for the last few weeks and it was good to see the lad's gustatory morale so improved. He must, he mused, send a thank-you note to Mrs. Palm. The Guild of Seamstresses was once again proving a valuable part of the city's operations.

*****

Lethality Wiggs approached her mother, took a deep breath and said, "I understand we are going to join the Duke and Duchess of Ankh at their country place in Quirm. Since Sammy and I are both off to school this fall, I want to make sure he spends at least some of his time in Unseen thinking about me. I know that the Assassin's Guild School now offers instruction in 'feminine wiles' but I don't want to wait that long. Could you give me some tips I can use while we're at Crundell's?"

Helena Wiggs looked down at her daughter. A year or so before, the girl had announced her intent to marry the young Marquess of Quire and do her part to continue the Vimes family line. Now kindly old Mother Nature had flipped all the switches on all the processes to make it possible. Curves were beginning to appear in all the right places and combined with the fitness level of Li's edificeering prowess, they would make the girl a toothsomely desirable morsel of a young Marchioness. As is usual with boys, Sammy at the same age was still a child but his time would come. Right now he was clearly his father's son in the face but in frame was pure Ramkin--that is to say approaching 'massive'. (With Vimes, Willikins and Amos Cordwinder all instructing him in street gang combat, anyone starting a barroom rumble with the lad would regret it immediately.)

"Are you looking to hints on flirting, fashion advice, make-up instruction or all three?"

"Oh all three! And how to make out!"

"No! Neither Lady Sybil nor I think it would be appropriate for you and young Sam to use your carpets to sneak off for a bit of canoodling and I think all you'd do if you tried, would be confuse the poor lad terribly. We women mature earlier than the men do and you will just have to wait another couple of years before you start sneaking up onto his lap. Fashion and light makeup I will do with you but anything more provocative than the occasional wink is off the table. Understand?"

Lethality pouted. Sneaking off into Crundell's surrounding woodland on flying carpets was exactly what she had been hoping for but what to do once they got there was as yet a slight mystery. But sneaking up onto his lap? That would bear looking into--so long as her mother never found out!

"Yes, Mother."

"Lady Sybil and I both agree that you two will be a proud match at the proper time! But that will be in the future. Childhood is fleeting enough that you don't need to be in a hurry to leave it."

*****

Samuel Vimes-Ramkin, Marquess of Quire and only child of the Duke and Duchess of Ankh contentedly read a book while his Kh'olli dog Rolf and his swamp dragon Twyla curled up asleep by the small fire on the hearth in his room. Previously it had been the nursery but now that Sammy was on the cusp of puberty redecorating had been necessary and today it looked like the cluttered study of an incipient country gentleman and wizard. This should come as no surprise as he was about to enroll in Unseen University to study life sciences with a side in hedge wizardry, disciplines which would come in handy when he eventually inherited the Ramkin country estate in Quirm, Crundell's.

Suddenly a quiet tap sounded on his window. Looking up in surprise, he saw a girl his own age, dressed all in black, standing on a carpet floating outside. On either side of her a black and white Kh'olli dog and a swamp dragon hovered. She waved.

Sammy rushed to let her in.

"Li," he exclaimed, "you're back! How was the trip to Klatch? Come in and tell me everything!"

The tale telling didn't start immediately as Rolf and Twyla woke up. Upon seeing their flying friends, such a ruckus took place that it was some five minutes later before all the pets were settled down enough for Li and Sammy to talk.

"So, did you have fun in Klatch?" Sammy began. "Father thinks highly of the Seriph and the Seriph is grateful to Father for saving his life and his throne. He gave me my first carpet and Rolf, too."

"I know that. Well, Klatch is an interesting place. It's hot, dry and everyone is trying to sell you something but I have to admit that some of the things we bought were really interesting. The food is special and really spicy. I ate a lot of it. Mom brought home a whole bunch of the spices they use because she feels that the curry we can buy here is a watered down version of the original. People really respect Assassins there. I've been told that you should always watch your back when visiting the Soak but when we walked down the streets, everyone got out of our way. Daddy says that a lot of Klatchian Assassins are trained in the Guild School and that the wali, 71-Hour Achmed, is both a graduate and the head of the Klatchian version of the Watch. He is, I guess, someone not to be trifled with though most people who have heard of him have never seen him."

"Mmmm, Father has talked about him, too. Apparently instead of catching people and bringing them in for trial, the Serif has the trial and then sends Achmed out to catch the people and carry out the sentence. He is a D'Reg, after all."

There was a polite knock on the door and Amos Cordwinder, by now promoted to First Footman, stuck his head in the room.

"Oh, hello Miss Wiggs, good to see you back from Klatch and in good health. Master Samuel, her Ladyship, your mother, wants you to join her in the dragon barns. It seems that she has just received a new hatchling from Lady Brenda she wants you to see. Feel free to come along, Miss Wiggs."

After he left, Li looked quizzically at Sammy. "That was Amos? His vocabulary has certainly improved, hasn't it?"

Sammy grinned. "Willikins is working on his locution. He's being groomed to be my gentleman's gentleman as well as sparring partner and Willikins is bringing Amos up to his standard of civility. By the time I graduate, he should be a fully qualified member of the Guild of Butlers, Valets and Gentlemen's Gentlemen. Come on. Mother has been looking for a mate for Twyla with the idea of breeding a more stable dragon, both physically and emotionally. I'll bet this new hatchling is a possible stud when it gets older."

*****

Having both families holiday at Crundell's had been an easy decision to make. The rub was how to get them all there, first to Quirm and then to the estate. While the Duke and Duchess of Ankh had their own private rail car, the Wiggs family did not and Lady Sybil put her foot down on forcing her son's prospective bride's family to travel by common carrier. Even going First Class Cabin seemed inhospitable, she decreed. So, with his teeth clenched in anxiety, Commander Vimes reluctantly acceded to breaking out the broomstick-augmented coaches from the barn.

Since his position as First Footman included Assistant Coachman, Amos was quite familiar with that pair of coaches and being given a chance to try one out excited him no end. Willikins' tale of their amazing speed, their ability to self-drive and their racing through the landscape a yard or so above the ground had him near salivating in expectation. And they were going to go all the way to Quirm and back? Bring it on!

Since the last time he'd rode in one, he'd been an infant, Sammy had no personal recollection of the trip but he had spent a fair amount of time inspecting them because of the stories he'd heard. He even sneaked out to the barn and tried lifting one up. Sure enough, the entire coach had risen off the ground as if it had no weight at all and when he heard that the families were taking them to Crundell's, he had to show them off to Lethality. She was duly impressed.

"And Willikins says that they go over a hundred miles an hour? Really, a hundred miles an hour? We shan't be able to ride our carpets beside the lead horses at that speed; the carpets simply don't go that fast."

"Yep, we'll have ride on top. Fortunately, the coach seems to be protected from the wind but we dare not stand up. Father once held up a piece of paper at arm's length and it was ripped from his fingers."

Li's eyes widened. "Whoa, that is fast. How long will it take us to get there?"

"Mother says about two hours or so. We'll leave in the morning and get there in time for lunch. She's sending a clacks to let the staff know we're coming."

"Is the cook there any good?"

"Very! Mother always fusses about gaining weight when we go there."

Li thought about that. At her age gaining weight wasn't the worry it was for her mother and Sammy's, but food that good had considerable attraction. Maybe if all the adults stuffed themselves at lunch and retired for a nap, she'd have a better chance of convincing Sammy to sneak away for some canoodling--what that might be.

*****

The Archchancellor relaxed in his oversized club chair in front of the hearth in his quarters. He was nursing a large snifter of Quirmian brandy (properly warmed) and contemplating turning on his Omniscope when a tone appeared and the latch on his door clicked, locking itself firmly. A golden spot of light and grew to man-size before the very sparsely garbed figure of Petulia emerged. She took two steps and then settled down on the arm of the chair with her legs across Ridcully's. He looked at her with a very deliberately straight face and said, "Welcome, madam. May I offer you a brandy? This stuff from Quirm is especially fine."

The Goddess of Negotiable Affection laughed merrily and patted the Archchancellor on the cheek. "You are a generous man, Mustrum, but no thank-you. I just stopped by to tell you that the idea of giving the golem Shelger the ability to detect Axles through the rock was a brilliant one. The enormous sums they sell for has been flowing through the economy and, as I expected, into the purses of my ladies. Should you come up with another idea that requires my intervention, do feel free to let me know. I shall be delighted to give whatever assistance I can."