Feet of Clay - Terry Pratchett [117]
“A little. You are correct there, at least.”
“‘A person of breeding,’” said Vimes. “Good grief. Well, I think people wanted Vetinari out of the way. But not dead, yet. Too many things’d happen too fast if he were dead. Is Nobby really an earl?”
“The evidence suggests so.”
“But it’s your evidence, right? You see, I don’t think he’s got noble blood in him. Nobby’s as common as muck. It’s one of his better points. I don’t set any score by the ring. The amount of stuff his family’s nicked, you could probably prove he’s the Duke of Pseudopolis, the Caliph of Klatch, and the Dowager Duchess of Quirm. He pinched my cigar case last year and I’m damn’ certain he’s not me. No, I don’t think Nobby is a nob. But I think he was convenient.”
It seemed to Vimes that Dragon was getting bigger, but perhaps it was only a trick of the candlelight. The light flickered as the candles hissed and popped.
“You made good use of me, eh?” Vimes carried on. “I’d been ducking out of appointments with you for weeks. I expect you were getting quite impatient. You were so surprised when I told you about Nobby, eh? Otherwise you’d’ve had to send for him or something, very suspicious. But Commander Vimes discovered him. That looks good. Practically makes it official.
“And then I started thinking: who wants a king? Well, nearly everyone. It’s built in. Kings make it better. Funny thing, isn’t it? Even those people who owe everything to him don’t like Vetinari. Ten years ago most of the guild leaders were just a bunch of thugs and now…well, they’re still a bunch of thugs, to tell the truth, but Vetinari’s given ’em the time and energy to decide they never needed him.
“And then young Carrot turns up with charisma writ all over him, and he’s got a sword and a birthmark and everyone gets a funny feeling and dozens of buggers start going through the records and say, ‘Hey, looks like the king’s come back.’ And then they watch him for a while and say, ‘Shit, he really is decent and honest and fair and just, just like in all the stories. Whoops! If this lad gets on the throne we could be in serious trouble! He might turn out to be one of them inconvenient kings from long ago who wanders around talking to the common people—’”
“You are in favor of the common people?” said Dragon mildly.
“The common people?” said Vimes. “They’re nothing special. They’re no different from the rich and powerful except they’ve got no money or power. But the law should be there to balance things up a bit. So I suppose I’ve got to be on their side.”
“A man married to the richest woman in the city?”
Vimes shrugged. “The Watchman’s helmet isn’t like a crown. Even when you take it off you’re still wearing it.”
“That’s an interesting statement of position, Sir Samuel, and I would be the first to admire the way you’ve come to terms with your family history, but—”
“Don’t move!” Vimes shifted his grip on the crossbow. “Anyway…Carrot wouldn’t do, but the news was getting around, and someone said, ‘Right, let’s have a king we can control. All the rumors say the king is a humble Watchman so let’s find one.’ And they had a look and found that when it comes to ‘humble’ you can’t beat Nobby Nobbs. But…I think people weren’t too sure. Killing Vetinari wasn’t an option. As I said, too many things would happen too fast. But to just gently remove him, so that he’s there and not there at the same time, while everyone tried out the idea…that was a good wheeze. That’s when someone got Mr. Carry to make poisoned candles. He’d got a golem. Golems can’t talk. No one would know. But it turned out to be a bit…erratic.”
“You seem to wish to involve me,” said Dragon King of Arms. “I know nothing about this man other than that he’s a customer—”
Vimes strode across the room and pulled a piece of parchment from a board. “You did him a coat of arms!” he shouted. “You even showed me when I was here! ‘The