"You helped him come back! Just like you did for me!"
"Oh, he"d have come back anyvay, in time. Some time when you weren"t expecting him. He"d track Angua like a wolverine. Best that things ended today." She gave him an appraising look through the smoke. "You"re good at anger, your grace. You save it up for when you need it."
"You couldn"t have known I"d beat him. You left me in the snow. I wasn"t even armed!"
"Havelock Vetinari would not have sent a fool to Uberwald." More smoke, which writhed in the air. "At least, not a stupid fool."
Vimes"s eyes narrowed. "You"ve met him, haven"t you?"
"Yes."
"And taught him all he knows, right?"
She blew smoke down her nostrils and gave him a radiant smile.
"I"m sorry? You think I taught him? My dear sir... As for vhat I"ve got out of all this... vell, a little breathing space. A little influence. Politics is more interesting than blood, your grace. And much more fun. Beware the reformed vampire, sir - the craving for blood is only a craving, and with care it can be diverted along different channels. Uberwald is going to need politicians. Ah, I believe ve are here," she added, although Vimes could.have sworn that she hadn"t so much as glanced out of the window.
The door opened.
"If my Igor"s still there, do tell him I vill see him Downtown. So nice to have met you. I"m sure ve shall meet again. And do please present my fondest regards to Lord Vetinari."
The door shut behind Vimes. The coach moved off.
He swore, under his breath.
The hall of the embassy was full of Igors. Several of them touched their forelocks, or at least the line of stitch marks, when they saw him. They were carrying heavy metal containers of varying sizes, on which frost crystals were forming.
"What"s this?" he said. "Igor"s funeral?" Then it sank in. "Oh, my gods... with party loot bags? Everyone gets something to take home?"
"You could thay that, thur, you could call it that," said an Igor. "But we think that putting bodieth in the ground ith rather gruethome. All thothe wormth and thingth." He tapped the tin box under his arm. "Thith way, he"ll be mothtly up and about again in no time," he added brightly.
"Reincarnation on the instalment plan, eh?" said Vimes weakly.
"Motht amuthing, thur," said the Igor gravely. "But it"th amathing what people need. Heartth, liverth, handth... we keep a litht, thur, of detherving catheth. By tonight there will be thome very lucky people in thethe partly"
"And these parts in some very lucky people?"
"Well done, thur. I can thee you are a wit. And one day thome poor thoul will have a really nathty brain injury, and - " he tapped the chilly box again - "what goeth around cometh around."
He nodded at Cheery, and at Vimes. "I mutht be going now, thur. Tho much to do, you know how it ith."
"I can imagine," said Vimes. He thought: the axe of my grandfather. You change the bits around, but there"ll always be an Igor.
"They"re really rather selfless people, sir," said Cheery, when the last Igor had lurched off. "They do a lot of good work. Er, they even took his suit and his boots because they"ll be useful to someone."
"I know, I know. But - "
"I know what you mean, sir. Everyone"s in the drawing room. Lady Sybil said you"d be back. She said anyone with that look in their eye comes back."
"We"re all going to the coronation. Might as well see this through. Is that what you"ll be wearing, Cheery?"
"Yes, sir."
"But it"s just... ordinary dwarf clothes. Trousers and everything."
"Yes, sir."
"But Sybil said you"d got a fetching little green number and a helmet with a feather in it."