“Yes, yes, of course, very reprehensible, certainly. On the other hand, a modest annual payment and one walks in safety…”

“He always says,” said Lord Rust, “that if you're going to have crime, it might as well be organized crime.”

“Seems to me,” said Viscount Skater, “that all the Guild chappies put up with him because anyone else would be worse, yes? We've certainly had some… difficult ones. Anyone remember Homicidal Lord Winder?”

“Deranged Lord Harmoni,” said Lord Monflathers.

“Laughing Lord Scapula,” said Lady Selachii. “A man with a very pointed sense of humour.”

“Mind you, Vetinari… there's something not entirely…” Lord Rust began.

“I know what you mean,” said Viscount Skater. “I don't like the way he always knows what you're thinking before you think it.”

“Everyone knows the Assassins have set his fee at a million dollars,” said Lady Selachii. “That's how much it would cost to have him killed.”

“One can't help feeling,” said Lord Rust, “that it would cost a lot more than that to make sure he stayed dead.”

“Ye gods! What happened to pride? What happened to honour?”

They perceptibly jumped as the last Lord d'Eath thrust himself out of his chair.

“Will you listen to yourselves? Please? Look at you. What man among you has not seen his family name degraded since the days of the kings? Can't you remember the men your forefathers were?” He strode rapidly around the table, so that they had to turn to watch him. He pointed an angry finger.

“You, Lord Rust! Your ancestor was cr-eated a Baron after single-handedly killing thirty-seven Klatchians while armed with nothing more than a p-in, isn't that so?”

“Yes, but—”

“You, sir… Lord Monflathers! The first Duke led six hundred men to a glorious and epic de-feat at the Battle of Quirm! Does that mean n-othing? And you, Lord Venturii, and you, Sir George… sitting in Ankh in your old houses with your old names and your old money, while Guilds—Guilds! Ragtags of tradesmen and merchants!—Guilds, I say, have a voice in the r-unning of the city!”