Actions

Work Header

Postage Included

Summary:

When kidnapping Rufus Drumknott, the Patrician's personal clerk, a written procedure should be expected. A card with stamps and instructions included for the captor's convenience. The Patrician strongly suggests following it to the letter.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“Finally, my weeks of planning, bribing, and following have paid dividends.” The man hastily removed the scratchy cabbage sack.

Rufus Drumknott sat unveiled. His glasses tilted. Through controlled facial muscles, he adjusted them to their proper place.

The other man took no notice, still elated by his prize. “We shall see what secrets we can reveal.” A glittering of sharp equipment jingled as the cart stopped near its victim. The traditional meat cleaver was raised and inspected, reflecting a glint of joy in its owner’s eyes. “Don’t be afraid.” The knife was fastidiously rolled down the mid torso of Drumknott. “Or do.”

“Sir, I will answer your questions. There is no need to dirty sterile equipment.” A look of guilt passed the captor's face. Drumknott frowned. “They have not been cleaned? Well, that furthers the point. I implore, sir, that you do ask.”

“Why would you tell me anything? You think so little of your master?”

“On the contrary. I hold the utmost respect for the Patrician. That is why I am inclined to follow his orders.” Doubt hung in the air. Rufus tilted his head to the left. “There is documentation in the front breast pocket if you require proof.”

The man pulled out a black, matted card with typed gold lettering.

“Upon Patrician and Lord Vetinari’s request, the below-mentioned employee, one Rufus Drumknott, is commanded and encouraged to fully cooperate with his captors and provide all wanted information as is within his knowledge. For the ransom and exchange of the said personage, please direct to the Patrician’s Oblong office post haste; postage is supplied on the reverse side. Once safely released, no further action is required, and safe departure will be ensured.
Note: Any serious harm or damage while within the captor’s possession will be addressed severely and considered null and void for safe passage out of the city. One kidnapping per a collective secret society, ring, gang, etc.”

The stamps were marked to be delivered directly to Vetinari, regardless of his location. They fluttered slightly from their stapled position on the back, partly covering Vetinari’s signature.

“This can't be real.”

“I assure you that is my lord's signature.”

After muttering the lines for a third time, the captor gave a reluctant acceptance, “But I was going to slowly collapse your mind and body till you gave up your true self.”

“I understand your plight, sir. I am responsible for reviewing the annual budget for the Watch. It is of similar experience I have been told by those who have undergone both.”

The return of suspicion seemed to calm the man, and he gave a triumphant sneer. “How am I to know you will tell the truth?”

“I have been instructed to do so, sir.”

The man’s shoulders slumped as he placed the knife down. He felt cornered by courtesy. The clerk did not appear to be capable of lying, even if he wanted to. “Fine! Where does the Patrician sleep at night?"

“In his bed, sir.”

The man grumbled. “You know I meant which room.”

“Apologies, the Vetinari 1 bedroom is located a floor above his office. It is on the public maps.”

“The ones at the library?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Isn't that dangerous knowledge?”

“I do believe the library is filled with more dangerous intel than where the patrician sleeps. It is less about the location and more about the method of getting there.”

“Aha!” The man rose to claim the upper hand. “So how would you get there?”

Drumknott seemed almost disappointed, as if the man had been close to promise. “I would use the stairs and proceed to knock on the door if it was an appropriate time on which to call upon or if an emergency stated otherwise.”

“How would I get to his room?”

“With much difficulty, I suppose.”

The man sat glancing at his cart. “We can always revisit the torture.”

A correcting tone was impressed on Drumknott’s words. “Sir, I am not of the creative notion to devise such plans. It is why I am the clerk and Lord Vetinari the patrician.”

He could not blame Drumknott for lack of imagination. It was how most clerks were. They were meant to stream information, not to create their own. Facts. Clerks knew facts. “How many guards would need to be bypassed to get to his room?”

Drumknott gave a slight nod of approval that would have been sarcastic on a more personal fellow. “It depends on scheduling. Did you have an optimal night for this venture, sir?”

“Tuesday.” That did hold the mockery and exhaustion the average person would give such a question.

“And the point of entrance you plan?”

“I am not going to tell you my whole plan step by step!”

“Then I am afraid my answer could not be certain, sir.”

“Rough guess.” The man had picked up the knife again as he paced.

Drumknott made a distasteful expression. “Sir, I do not enjoy roughness.”

The man pointed the knife directly at his femoral artery. “Like your life depends on it, Drumknott. You are meant to be cooperative.”

Drumknott lolled his head with a sigh. “Anywhere from 5 to 32 guards.”

“Seems a bit risky”

“I do believe it is meant to be, sir.”

“Well, we can move on from that. What is the Patrician's weakness?”

“His left leg, sir. The one in which he was shot. It has not returned to full strength.”

“I know that! Anyone with eyes can see that. What is his secret weakness?”

“I am unaware what a secret weakness would be defined as.”

“One that no one knows about!”

“Would that not mean I would not know about it either, sir?”

“I am not a patient man, Drumknott.” The man was sitting again, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. The fraying of his mind spilled before him. He hated puzzles.

“Sir, I have done nothing but answer to the best of my abilities.” Drumknott almost sounded regretful for his captor’s waning. The captor felt a need to reassure the clerk. Till he saw the ropes around Drumknott, wait, this was his kidnapping! He was in charge.

“You have done nothing but give me the run around! What is something embarrassing you have seen your lord do? The thing you know has kept him up late at night. It haunts him.”

“He once slipped on nothing while throwing the ball for his pet dog, Wuffles. For a tall man, it is a long fall, and it was not helped that his legs went right out from under him as if he were on ice. He tried to claim there was a crack, but there was none to be found. The pathway was redone regardless. He had a sprained wrist for several days and had to sign with his left hand.”

The man went to speak. Stopped. Collected himself and pictured it. The image did lend itself to humor. “I can't blackmail him with that!”

“I am unsure, sir. When I threaten to share the anecdote, he promptly reminds me who has the keys to the scorpion pit.”

“It really got to him that bad?”

“He prides himself on his agility, sir.”

An image of a pouting Lord Vetinari entered his mind. He had to shake his head thoroughly before it threatened to drive him mad. “Let's try something else. What is the most serious crime he has committed?” He added forcefully. “THAT YOU HAVE WITNESS!”

“Signing documents with his non-dominant hand, sir.”

“I have given up hours of my life to this venture just for a story of a man falling while throwing a ball.”

“It is a good story, sir. Popular among the palace staff.”

The man collapsed in a near chair.

“There is always the ransom, sir, though the pot was just recently won, so it is lower.”

“Pot?”

“Yes, sir, for each week I go unharmed or inconvenienced, the pot grows. I was just held for ransom three months ago by an Edgar Post. He ended up with 345 pounds.”

“And he wasn’t arrested?”

“No, sir!” Drumknott answered as if the question had been the true scandal of this matter. “He followed the card. He used the earnings to help his sick child and received an education on park architecture. He works for the Ankh-Morpoke parks department now.”

“You must be joking.”

“No, sir. He is developing a public space for children. He hopes to reveal it soon.”

The abductor considered this for several minutes as Drumknott somehow faded into the background. If he were not careful, he feared the administrator might vanish altogether. “And it is only at 50 now? What if I keep you for a month? Would it grow?”

Drumknott was pleased. “Excellent question, sir. It would not grow. The pot stops as soon as the incident is recognized, which currently happens within the two-hour window of most events. Even if it did grow, I trust the Watch or Lord Vetinari would quickly locate my person. Voiding the offer. But 50 pounds could open a lot of doors if you would like my opinion, sir.”

“I would open that butcher I have wanted.” For the first time, the zeal shone in the kidnapper’s eyes.

“There is a demand for skillful tools and hands in the meat packing district, sir. I do believe Calvin's Hogs and Mor’ lost their lead pig separator.”

“I only have to mail the card?”

“I can help fill it out if you require, sir.”

“No, no, you stay there. I’ll find a pen.”

Drumknott, within three hours, found himself wandering a side street located in a rougher area of town. A carriage awaited him to take him to the palace. On the way, he desperately attempted to rid himself of the wrinkles in his clothes along with the dirt.
He arrived as Vimes' daily meeting was concluding. He hated to disturb, but Lord Vetinari had been extremely clear that his first task after release, unless medically required, was to inform Lord Vetinari personally, no matter the hour.

Drumknott knocked clearly.

“Enter.”

Vimes noted his state, causing Drumknott’s blush to creep. “Where have you been? You look,” Vimes searched for an appropriate adjective, “dusty.”

“I have been tied up most of the day, sir.” Vimes had been looking at Drumknott but swore he saw a flash of smiling teeth from the Patrician.

Turning to look, Vetinari was busy writing. A wave of a hand was his dismissal. “That will do, Vimes. Do not let me detain you.”

“Sir.”

As soon as the door closed, Vetinari moved around his desk in front of Drumknott. It happened like this after every incident. The Patrician required a full report on his health. He gently dusted his clerk's shoulder. The hand remained resting on his sore shoulder. He knew his master could feel the swelling from Drumknott’s hours of forced position. “You are well, Drumknott?”

“As can be expected, sir.”

Vetinari seemed displeased with the answer, but not with Drumknott. Vetinari gave a slight squeeze that caused Drumknott slight pain but provided greater relief when released. Vetinari swished back to his seat. Thoughts heavy on his mind.

“You are firm on your decision of not being followed. You would not even notice them, and they would only report the status of your safety. They would prevent further inconveniences. They are very good at their work, Drumknott, that includes secrets.”

“I know, sir, but I need some sense of privacy.”

His master sighed, “Very well then. We shall continue these games. Where did you end up sending this one?” He looked at the black card filled out in a rushed scrawl. “One Lindsey Halthham?”

“The meat district, sir. He already had the needed tools.”

“One dreads to think what purposes they shared before.” Vetinari placed the card in a cabinet holding many of the same. He gave one more eyeing of his clerk. Being under the Patrician’s gaze was often a thing to be feared, but that rarely held for his clerk. His head rose to Drumknott’s eyes again but did not give the usual nod. Vetinari returned to his paperwork with a glib air.

“Drumknott, seeing as you have not fully enjoyed your half day, you may take the rest of today for your leisure and a lie in tomorrow.”

“I am content to return to work, my lord.”

“As you see fit, but first tea if you will, Drumknott. You can tell me what interest I am to the common man. You refrained from sharing the slip incident, I hope.”

“Sir, I was instructed to cooperate.”

“Come now, Drumknott, you know there had been a crack there.”

“I would need you to better define a crack, sir.”

A stern gaze came as Drumknott handed Vetinari his cup. “Drumknott, I can leave you with your captors next time, seeing as you so enjoy sharing stories.”

“Then who would do the Watch budget review, sir?”

Vetinari gave a wry smile. “My, that is a choice.”

1. What Drumknott did not mention is that the room, referenced in that text, was itself called the Vetinari room, but it was not the room in which Vetinari resided. return to text

Notes:

I was going to title this 'A Cherub-able Act' to play into the idea of a minor angel angle for those who have read Going Postal, but I felt disapproval from Drumknott for improper use of language.

Series this work belongs to: