Havelock Vetinari, Samuel Vimes and Esmeralda Weatherwax
...
’Guards Guards’ …
The Patrician steepled his hands and looked at Vimes over the top of them.
"Let me give you some advice, Captain," he said.
"Yes, sir?"
"It may help you make some sense of the world."
"Sir."
"I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people," said the man. "You're wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides. "
He waved his thin hand towards the city and walked over to the window.
"A great rolling sea of evil," he said, almost proprietorially. "Shallower in some places, of course, but deeper, oh, so much deeper in others. But people like you put together little rafts of rules and vaguely good intentions and say, this is the opposite, this will triumph in the end. Amazing!" He slapped Vimes good-naturedly on the back.
"Down there," he said, "are people who will follow any dragon, worship any god, ignore any iniquity. All out of a kind of humdrum, everyday badness. Not the really high, creative loathesomeness of the great sinners, but a sort of mass-produced darkness of the soul. Sin, you might say, without a trace of originality. They accept evil not because they say yes, but because they don't say no. I'm sorry if this offends you,'' he added, patting the captain's shoulder, "but you fellows really need us."
"Yes, sir?" said Vimes quietly.
"Oh, yes. We're the only ones who know how to make things work. You see, the only thing the good people are good at is overthrowing the bad people. And you're good at that, I'll grant you. But the trouble is that it's the only thing you're good at. One day it's the ringing of the bells and the casting down of the evil tyrant, and the next it's everyone sitting around complaining that ever since the tyrant was overthrown no-one's been taking out the trash. Because the bad people know how to plan. It's part of the specification,you might say. Every evil tyrant has a plan to rule the world. The good people don't seem to have the knack."
"Maybe. But you're wrong about the rest!" said Vimes. "It's just because people are afraid, and alone-" He paused. It sounded pretty hollow, even to him.
He shrugged. "They're just people," he said. "They're just doing what people do. Sir."
Lord Vetinari gave him a friendly smile.
"Of course, of course," he said. "You have to believe that, I appreciate. Otherwise you'd go quite mad. Otherwise you'd think you're standing on a feather-thin bridge over the vaults of Hell. Otherwise existence would be a dark agony and the only hope would be that there is no life after death. I quite understand." He looked at his desk, and sighed, "And now," he said, "there is such a lot to do. I'm afraid poor Wonse was a good servant but an inefficient master. So you may go. Have a good night's sleep. Oh, and do bring your men in tomorrow. The city must show its gratitude."
"It must what?" said Vimes.
The Patrician looked at a scroll. Already his voice was back to the distant tones of one who organises and plans and controls.
"Its gratitude," he said. "After every triumphant victory there must be heroes. It is essential. Then everyone will know that everything has been done properly."
He glanced at Vimes over the top of the scroll.
' 'It's all part of the natural order of things,'' he said.
After a while he made a few pencil annotations to the paper in front of him and looked up.
"I said," he said, "that you may go."
Vimes paused at the door.
"Do you believe all that, sir?" he said. "About the endless evil and the sheer blackness?"
"Indeed, indeed," said the Patrician, turning over the page. "It is the only logical conclusion."
"But you get out of bed every morning, sir?"
"Hmm? Yes? What is your point?"
"I'd just like to know why, sir."
"Oh, do go away, Vimes. There's a good fellow."
==============================================================================
==============================================================================
’Night Watch’ …
(Samuel Vimes ... on himself) ... Who knew what evil lurked in the hearts of men? A copper,that's who. After ten years you thought you'd seen it all, but the shadows always dished up more.
You saw how close men lived to the beast.
You realized that people like Carcer were not mad.
They were incredibly sane.
They were simply men without a shield.
They'd looked at the world and realized that all the rules didn't have to apply to them, not if they didn't want them to. They weren't fooled by all the little stories. They shook hands with the beast.
******
It'll come when you call...
All plans, all futures, all politics... were elsewhere. Vimes scooped up a fallen sword and with a weapon in either hand screamed wordless defiance and launched himself at the nearest enemy. The man went down headless.
He saw Snouty go down in the melee, and sprang over him to catch his attacker in a windmill of blades. And then he spun around to confront Knock, who dropped his sword and fled. And Vimes ran on, not fighting but hacking, ducking strokes without seeing them, blocking attacks without turning his head, letting the ancient senses do their work. Someone was slicing towards young Sam; Vimes brought a sword down on the arm in true selfdefence. He moved on, in the centre of a widening circle. He wasn't an enemy, he was a nemesis.
And as suddenly as it had come the beast withdrew, leaving an angry man with two swords.
******
Vimes remembered in slow motion. Some of Carcer's men ran at the sight of them, some raised their hastily reclaimed weapons, and Carcer stood there and grinned. Vimes headed for him, ducking and weaving through the fight.
The man's expression changed as Vimes approached. Vimes was speeding up, shouldercharging and thrusting other bodies away. Carcer raised his sword and took a stance, but there was no room for finesse in the melee and Vimes closed like a bull, knocking the sword up and grabbing Carcer by the throat.
'You're nicked, my ol' chum,' he said. And then it all went black.
==============================================================================
==============================================================================
’Witches Abroad’ …
(Nanny holding forth on Granny) ... " ... She always said you can't help people with magic, but you can help them with skin. By doin' real things, she meant.'
'I'm not saying she's not basically a nice person -' Magrat began.
'Hah! I am. You'd have to go a long day's journey to find someone basically nastier than Esme,' said Nanny Ogg, 'and this is me sayin' it. She knows exactly what she is. She was born to be good and she don't like it.'
******
Granny stepped forward, her eyes two sapphires of bitterness. 'I'm goin' to give you the hidin' our Mam never gave you, Lily Weatherwax. Not with magic, not with headology, not with a stick like our Dad had, aye, and used a fair bit as I recall - but with skin. And not because you was the bad one. Not because you meddled with stories. Everyone has a path they got to tread. But because, and I wants you to understand this prop'ly, after you went I had to be the good one. You had all the fun. An' there's no way I can make you pay for that, Lily, but I'm surely goin' to give it a try . . .'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
’Carpe Jugulum’ …
(Count Magpyr holding forth on Esmeralda Weatherwax) … 'A most . . . interesting woman. An interesting family. Uncle used to talk about her grandmother. The Weatherwax women have always had one foot in shadow. It's in the blood. And most of their power comes from denying it. ...'
******
(Granny Weatherwax, after being bitten by the vampires) … And then, voices from her shadow.
'. . . Because of you, some died who may have lived. . .'
The words lashed at her, leaving livid lines across her mind.
'Some lived who surely would have died,' she said.
The dark pulled at her sleeves.
'. . . you killed. . .'
'No. I showed the way.'
'. . . hah! That's just words. . .'
'Words is important,' Granny whispered into the night .
. . . you took the right to judge others. . .'
'I took the duty. I'll own up to it.'
'. . . I know every evil thought you've ever had. . .'
'I know.'
'. . . the ones you'd never dare tell anyone . . .'
'I know.'
'. . . all the little secrets, never to be told . . .'
'I know.'
'. . . how often you longed to embrace the dark. . .'
'Yes.'
'. . . such strength you could have. . .'
'Yes.'
'. . . embrace the dark. . .'
'No.'
'. . . give in to me. . .'
'No.'
'. . . Lilith Weatherwax did. Alison Weatherwax did. . .'
'That's never been proved!'
'. . . give in to me. . .'
'No. I know you. I've always known you. The Count just let you out to torment me, but I've always known you were there. I've fought you every day of my life and you'll get no victory now.'
She opened her eyes and stared into the blackness.
'I knows who you are now, Esmerelda Weatherwax,' she said. 'You don't scare me no more.'
’Guards Guards’ …
The Patrician steepled his hands and looked at Vimes over the top of them.
"Let me give you some advice, Captain," he said.
"Yes, sir?"
"It may help you make some sense of the world."
"Sir."
"I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people," said the man. "You're wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides. "
He waved his thin hand towards the city and walked over to the window.
"A great rolling sea of evil," he said, almost proprietorially. "Shallower in some places, of course, but deeper, oh, so much deeper in others. But people like you put together little rafts of rules and vaguely good intentions and say, this is the opposite, this will triumph in the end. Amazing!" He slapped Vimes good-naturedly on the back.
"Down there," he said, "are people who will follow any dragon, worship any god, ignore any iniquity. All out of a kind of humdrum, everyday badness. Not the really high, creative loathesomeness of the great sinners, but a sort of mass-produced darkness of the soul. Sin, you might say, without a trace of originality. They accept evil not because they say yes, but because they don't say no. I'm sorry if this offends you,'' he added, patting the captain's shoulder, "but you fellows really need us."
"Yes, sir?" said Vimes quietly.
"Oh, yes. We're the only ones who know how to make things work. You see, the only thing the good people are good at is overthrowing the bad people. And you're good at that, I'll grant you. But the trouble is that it's the only thing you're good at. One day it's the ringing of the bells and the casting down of the evil tyrant, and the next it's everyone sitting around complaining that ever since the tyrant was overthrown no-one's been taking out the trash. Because the bad people know how to plan. It's part of the specification,you might say. Every evil tyrant has a plan to rule the world. The good people don't seem to have the knack."
"Maybe. But you're wrong about the rest!" said Vimes. "It's just because people are afraid, and alone-" He paused. It sounded pretty hollow, even to him.
He shrugged. "They're just people," he said. "They're just doing what people do. Sir."
Lord Vetinari gave him a friendly smile.
"Of course, of course," he said. "You have to believe that, I appreciate. Otherwise you'd go quite mad. Otherwise you'd think you're standing on a feather-thin bridge over the vaults of Hell. Otherwise existence would be a dark agony and the only hope would be that there is no life after death. I quite understand." He looked at his desk, and sighed, "And now," he said, "there is such a lot to do. I'm afraid poor Wonse was a good servant but an inefficient master. So you may go. Have a good night's sleep. Oh, and do bring your men in tomorrow. The city must show its gratitude."
"It must what?" said Vimes.
The Patrician looked at a scroll. Already his voice was back to the distant tones of one who organises and plans and controls.
"Its gratitude," he said. "After every triumphant victory there must be heroes. It is essential. Then everyone will know that everything has been done properly."
He glanced at Vimes over the top of the scroll.
' 'It's all part of the natural order of things,'' he said.
After a while he made a few pencil annotations to the paper in front of him and looked up.
"I said," he said, "that you may go."
Vimes paused at the door.
"Do you believe all that, sir?" he said. "About the endless evil and the sheer blackness?"
"Indeed, indeed," said the Patrician, turning over the page. "It is the only logical conclusion."
"But you get out of bed every morning, sir?"
"Hmm? Yes? What is your point?"
"I'd just like to know why, sir."
"Oh, do go away, Vimes. There's a good fellow."
==============================================================================
==============================================================================
’Night Watch’ …
(Samuel Vimes ... on himself) ... Who knew what evil lurked in the hearts of men? A copper,that's who. After ten years you thought you'd seen it all, but the shadows always dished up more.
You saw how close men lived to the beast.
You realized that people like Carcer were not mad.
They were incredibly sane.
They were simply men without a shield.
They'd looked at the world and realized that all the rules didn't have to apply to them, not if they didn't want them to. They weren't fooled by all the little stories. They shook hands with the beast.
******
It'll come when you call...
All plans, all futures, all politics... were elsewhere. Vimes scooped up a fallen sword and with a weapon in either hand screamed wordless defiance and launched himself at the nearest enemy. The man went down headless.
He saw Snouty go down in the melee, and sprang over him to catch his attacker in a windmill of blades. And then he spun around to confront Knock, who dropped his sword and fled. And Vimes ran on, not fighting but hacking, ducking strokes without seeing them, blocking attacks without turning his head, letting the ancient senses do their work. Someone was slicing towards young Sam; Vimes brought a sword down on the arm in true selfdefence. He moved on, in the centre of a widening circle. He wasn't an enemy, he was a nemesis.
And as suddenly as it had come the beast withdrew, leaving an angry man with two swords.
******
Vimes remembered in slow motion. Some of Carcer's men ran at the sight of them, some raised their hastily reclaimed weapons, and Carcer stood there and grinned. Vimes headed for him, ducking and weaving through the fight.
The man's expression changed as Vimes approached. Vimes was speeding up, shouldercharging and thrusting other bodies away. Carcer raised his sword and took a stance, but there was no room for finesse in the melee and Vimes closed like a bull, knocking the sword up and grabbing Carcer by the throat.
'You're nicked, my ol' chum,' he said. And then it all went black.
==============================================================================
==============================================================================
’Witches Abroad’ …
(Nanny holding forth on Granny) ... " ... She always said you can't help people with magic, but you can help them with skin. By doin' real things, she meant.'
'I'm not saying she's not basically a nice person -' Magrat began.
'Hah! I am. You'd have to go a long day's journey to find someone basically nastier than Esme,' said Nanny Ogg, 'and this is me sayin' it. She knows exactly what she is. She was born to be good and she don't like it.'
******
Granny stepped forward, her eyes two sapphires of bitterness. 'I'm goin' to give you the hidin' our Mam never gave you, Lily Weatherwax. Not with magic, not with headology, not with a stick like our Dad had, aye, and used a fair bit as I recall - but with skin. And not because you was the bad one. Not because you meddled with stories. Everyone has a path they got to tread. But because, and I wants you to understand this prop'ly, after you went I had to be the good one. You had all the fun. An' there's no way I can make you pay for that, Lily, but I'm surely goin' to give it a try . . .'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
’Carpe Jugulum’ …
(Count Magpyr holding forth on Esmeralda Weatherwax) … 'A most . . . interesting woman. An interesting family. Uncle used to talk about her grandmother. The Weatherwax women have always had one foot in shadow. It's in the blood. And most of their power comes from denying it. ...'
******
(Granny Weatherwax, after being bitten by the vampires) … And then, voices from her shadow.
'. . . Because of you, some died who may have lived. . .'
The words lashed at her, leaving livid lines across her mind.
'Some lived who surely would have died,' she said.
The dark pulled at her sleeves.
'. . . you killed. . .'
'No. I showed the way.'
'. . . hah! That's just words. . .'
'Words is important,' Granny whispered into the night .
. . . you took the right to judge others. . .'
'I took the duty. I'll own up to it.'
'. . . I know every evil thought you've ever had. . .'
'I know.'
'. . . the ones you'd never dare tell anyone . . .'
'I know.'
'. . . all the little secrets, never to be told . . .'
'I know.'
'. . . how often you longed to embrace the dark. . .'
'Yes.'
'. . . such strength you could have. . .'
'Yes.'
'. . . embrace the dark. . .'
'No.'
'. . . give in to me. . .'
'No.'
'. . . Lilith Weatherwax did. Alison Weatherwax did. . .'
'That's never been proved!'
'. . . give in to me. . .'
'No. I know you. I've always known you. The Count just let you out to torment me, but I've always known you were there. I've fought you every day of my life and you'll get no victory now.'
She opened her eyes and stared into the blackness.
'I knows who you are now, Esmerelda Weatherwax,' she said. 'You don't scare me no more.'