Making Money - Terry Pratchett [46]
The glove came free, and there it was.
Oh yes…
Heretofore had done magnificently.
Cosmo stared at the wondrous thing, moving his hand so that it caught the light. Light did strange things to stygium: sometimes it reflected silver, sometimes an oily yellow, sometimes it remained resolutely black. And it was warm, even here. In direct sunlight it would burst into flame. It was a metal that might have been intended for those who move in shadow…
The ring of Vetinari. Vetinari’s signet ring. Such a small thing, and yet so powerful.
It was entirely without ornamentation, unless you counted the tiny border to the cartouche that surrounded the sharply incised and serifed single letter:
V
He could only guess at all the things his secretary had to do to get it. He’d had a replica made, “reverse-devised,” whatever that was, from the wax seals it had so impressively stamped. And there had been bribes (expensive ones) and hints of hasty meetings and cautious exchanges and last-minute changes to get the replica exactly right—
And here the real one was, on his finger. Very much on his finger, in fact. From Cosmo’s point of view, Vetinari also had very small fingers for a man, and getting the ring over the knuckle had been a real effort. Heretofore had fretted about getting it enlarged, foolishly not realizing that this would completely ruin it. The magic—and surely Vetinari had a magic all his own—would leak out. It wouldn’t be totally the real thing anymore.
Yes, it had hurt like hell for a few days, but now he was floating above the pain, in a clear blue sky.
He prided himself on being no fool. He’d have known at once if his secretary had tried to palm off a mere copy on him. The shock that went up his arm when he slid the ring—all right, forced the ring over the knuckle—was enough to tell him that he had got the real thing. Already he could feel his thoughts getting sharper and faster.
He brushed a forefinger across the deeply cut V and looked up at Drumk—at Heretofore.
“You seem concerned, Heretofore,” he said kindly.
“The finger has gone very white, sir. Almost pale blue. Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”
“Not a bit. I feel…utterly in control. You seem very…worried lately, Heretofore. Are you well?”
“Um…fine, sir,” said Heretofore.
“You must understand I sent Mr. Cranberry with you for the best of reasons,” said Cosmo. “Morpeth would have told someone, sooner or later, however much you paid him.”
“But the boy in the hat shop—”
“Exactly the same situation. And it was a fair fight. Was that not so, Cranberry?”
Cranberry’s shiny bald head looked up from his book. “Yes, sir. He was armed.”
“Bu—” Heretofore began.
“Yes?” said Cosmo calmly.
“Er…nothing, sir. You are right, of course.” In possession of a small knife and very drunk. Heretofore wondered how much that counted against a professional killer.
“I am, aren’t I,” said Cosmo in a kindly voice, “and you are excellent at what you do. As is Cranberry. I shall have another little quest for you soon, I feel it. Now do go and get your supper.”
As Heretofore opened the door, Cranberry glanced up at Cosmo, who shook his head almost imperceptibly. Unfortunately for Heretofore, he had excellent peripheral vision.
He’s going to find out, he’s going to find out, he’s going to find oouuuttt!!! he moaned to himself, as he scurried along the corridors. It’s the damn ring, that’s what it is! It’s not my fault Vetinari has thin fingers! He would have smelled a rat if the bloody thing had fitted! Why didn’t he let me have it made bigger? Hah, and if I had he’d have sent Cranberry along later to murder the jeweler! I know he’ll send him after me, I know it!
Cranberry frightened Heretofore. The man was soft-spoken and modestly dressed. And when Cosmo did not require his services he sat and read books