Pyramids (Discworld 7)

Teppic beckoned to Dios again.

'Is there any point in me being here?' he demanded in an overheated whisper.

'Please be calm, sire. If you were not here, how would the people know that justice had been done?'

'But you twist everything I say!'

'No, sire. Sire, you give the judgement of the man. I interpret the judgement of the king.'

'I see,' said Teppic grimly. 'Well, from now on-'

There was a commotion outside the hall. Clearly there was a prisoner outside who was less than confident in the king's justice, and the king didn't blame him. He wasn't at all happy about it, either.

It turned out to be a dark-haired girl, struggling in the arms of two guards and giving them the kind of blows with fist and heel that a man would blush to give. She wasn't wearing the right kind of costume for the job, either. It would be barely adequate for lying around peeling grapes in.

She saw Teppic and, to his secret delight, flashed him a glance of pure hatred. After an afternoon of being treated like a mentally-deficient statue it was a pleasure to find someone prepared to take an interest in him.

He didn't know what she had done, but judging by the thumps she was landing on the guards it was a pretty good bet that she had done it to the very limits of her ability.

Dios bent down to the level of the mask's ear holes.

'Her name is Ptraci,' he said. 'A handmaiden of your father. She has refused to take the potion.'

'What potion?' said Teppic.

'It is customary for a dead king to take servants with him into the netherworld, sire.'

Teppic nodded gloomily. It was a jealously-guarded privilege, the only way a penniless servant could ensure immortality. He remembered grandfather's funeral, and the discreet clamour of the old man's personal servants. It had made father depressed for days.

'Yes, but it's not compulsory,' he said.

'Yes, sire. It is not compulsory.'

'Father had plenty of servants.'

'I gather she was his favourite, sire.'

'What exactly has she done wrong, then?'

Dios sighed, as one might if one were explaining things to an extremely backward child.

'She has refused to take the potion, sire.'

'Sorry. I thought you said it wasn't compulsory, Dios.'

'Yes, sire. It is not, sire. It is entirely voluntary. It is an act of free will. And she has refused it, sire.'

'Ah. One of those situations,' said Teppic. Djelibeybi was built on those sort of situations. Trying to understand them could drive you mad. If one of his ancestors had decreed that night was day, people would go around groping in the light.

He leaned forward.

'Step forward, young lady,' he said.

She looked at Dios.

'His Greatness the King Teppicymon XXVIII-'

'Do we have to go all through that every time?'