‘Well done, my lord. The Archchancellor has just entered the palace.’

Vetinari smiled. ‘He must have looked at the calendar at last. Thank goodnessthey have Ponder Stibbons. Show him straight in after the customary wait.’

Five minutes later, Mustrum Ridcully was ushered in.

‘Archchancellor! To what urgent matter do I owe this visit? Our usual meetingis not until the day after tomorrow, I believe.’

‘Er, yes,’ said Ridcully. As he sat down, a very large sherry was placed infront of him[7]. ‘Well, Havelock, the fact of thematter is—’

‘But it is in fact quite providential that you have arrived just now,’ Vetinariwent on, ignoring him, ‘because a problem has arisen on which I would like youradvice.’

‘Oh? Really?’

‘Yes, indeed. It concerns this wretched game called foot-the-ball… ’

‘It does?’

The glass, now in Ridcully’s hand, trembled not a fraction. He’d held his jobfor a long time, right back to the days when a wizard who blinked died.

‘One has to move with the times, of course,’ said the Patrician, shaking hishead.

‘We tend not to, over the road,’ said Ridcully. ‘It only encourages them.’

‘People do not understand the limits of tyranny,’ said Vetinari, as if talkingto himself. ‘They think that because I can do what I like I can do what I like.A moment’s thought reveals, of course, that this cannot be so.’

‘Oh, it is the same with magic,’ said the Archchancellor. ‘If you flash spellsaround like there’s no tomorrow, there’s a good chance that there won’t be.’

‘In short,’ Vetinari continued, still talking to the air, ‘I am intending togive my blessing to the game of football, in the hope that its excesses can bemore carefully controlled.’

‘Well, it worked with the Thieves’ Guild,’ Ridcully observed, amazed at his owncalmness. ‘If there has to be crime, then it should be organized, I thinkthat’s what you said.’

‘Exactly. I have to admit to the view that all exercise for any purpose otherthan bodily health, the defence of the realm and the proper action of thebowels is barbaric.’

‘Really? What about agriculture?’

‘Defence of the realm against starvation. But I see no point in people just…running about. Did you catch your Megapode, by the way?’

How the hells does he do it? Ridcully wondered. I mean, how? Aloud, he said,‘Indeed we did, but surely you are not suggesting that we were merely “runningabout”?’

‘Of course not. All three exceptions apply. Tradition is at least as importantas bowels, if not quite so useful. And, indeed, the Poor Boys’ Fun has someremarkable traditions of its own, which some might find it worthwhileexploring. Let me be frank, Mustrum. I cannot enforce a mere personal dislikeagainst public pressure. Well, I can, strictly speaking, but not without goingto ridiculous and indeed tyrannical lengths. Over a game? I think not. So… asthings stand, we find teams of burly men pushing and shoving and kicking andbiting in the faint hope, it seems to me, of propelling some wretched object atsome distant goal. I have no problem with them trying to kill one another,which has little in the way of a downside, but it has now become so popularonce more that property is being damaged, and that cannot be tolerated. Therehave been comments in the Times. No, what the wise man cannot change he mustchannel.’

‘And how do you intend to do that?’

‘By giving the job to you. Unseen University has always had a fine sportingtradition.’

‘“Had” is the right word,’ sighed Ridcully. ‘In my day we were all so… sorelentlessly physical. But if I was to suggest so much as an egg and spoon racethese days they’d use the spoon to eat the egg.’

‘Alas, I did not know your day was over, Mustrum,’ said Lord Vetinari, with asmile.

The room, never normally noisy, sank into deeper silence.

‘Now look here—’ Ridcully began.

‘This afternoon I shall be speaking to the editor of the Times,’ said Vetinari,gently surfing his voice over that of the wizard with all the skill of a borncommittee manipulator, ‘who is, as we know, a very civic-minded person. I’msure he will welcome the fact that I am asking the university to tame the demonfoot-the-ball, and that you have, after careful thought, agreed to the task.’

I don’t have to do this, Ridcully thought carefully. On the other hand, sinceit is what I want, and thereby don’t have to ask for, this may be unwise. Damn!This is so like him!

‘You would not object if we raise our own team?’ he managed.

‘Indeed, I positively demand that you do so. But no magic, Mustrum. I must makethat clear. Magic is not sporting, unless you are playing against otherwizards, of course.’

‘Oh, I am a very sporting man, Havelock.’

‘Capital! How is the Dean settling in at Brazeneck, by the way?’

If it had been anyone else asking, Ridcully thought, that would simply be apolite enquiry. But this is Vetinari, isn’t it…

‘I’ve been too busy to find out,’ he said loftily, ‘but I’m sure he will befine when he finds his feet.’ Or manages to see them without a mirror, he addedto himself.

‘I’m sure you must be pleased to see your old friend and colleague making hisway in the world,’ said Vetinari, innocently. ‘And so is Pseudopolis itself, ofcourse. I must say, I admire the sturdy burghers of that city for embarking ontheir noble experiment in this… this democracy,’ he went on. ‘It is always goodto see it attempted again. And sometimes amusing, too.’

‘There is something to be said for it, you know,’ grunted Ridcully.

‘Yes, I believe you practise it at the university,’ said the Patrician, with alittle smile. ‘However, on the matter of football we are in accord. Capital. Iwill tell Mister de Worde what you are doing. I’m sure that the keen players offoot-the-ball will be interested, when someone explains the longer words tothem. Well done. Do try the sherry. I am told it is highly palatable.’

Vetinari stood up, a signal that, in theory at least, the business of themeeting was concluded, and strolled over to a polished stone slab, set into asquare wooden table. ‘On a different note, Mustrum… How is your young visitor?’

‘My visit—Oh, you mean the… uh… ’

‘That’s right.’ Vetinari smiled at the slab as if sharing a joke with it. ‘The,as you put it, Uh.’

‘I note the sarcasm. As a wizard, I must tell you that words have power.’

‘As a politician, I must tell you I already know. How is he getting along?Concerned minds would like to know.’

Ridcully glanced at the little carved men on the playing slab as if they werelistening to him. In a roundabout way, they probably were. Certainly it waswell known now that the hands that guided half the pieces lived in a big castlein Uberwald, and were female and belonged to a lady who was mostly rumour.

‘Smeems says he keeps himself to himself. He says he thinks the boy iscunning.’

‘Oh, good,’ said Vetinari, still seeming to find something totally engrossingin the layout of playing pieces.

‘Good?’

‘We need cunning people in Ankh-Morpork. We have a Street of CunningArtificers, do we not?’

‘Well, yes, but—’

‘Ah, then it is context that has power,’ said Vetinari, turning around with alook of unmasked delight. ‘Did I say that I am a politician? Cunning: artful,sly, deceptive, shrewd, astute, cute, on the ball and, indeed, arch. A word forany praise and every prejudice. Cunning… is a cunning word.’

‘You don’t think that maybe this… experiment of yours might be a step too far?’said Ridcully.

‘People said that about the vampires, did they not? It’s alleged that they haveno proper language, but I am told he speaks several languages fluently.’

‘Smeems did say he talked la-di-da,’ Ridcully admitted.

‘Mustrum, compared with Natchbull Smeems, trolls speak la-di-da.’