Good evenink vonce more, gentle readers...

I wrote this as a sometime-sequel to Room Vith a View, though it is not necessary to have
read that in order to understand this. Indeed, I almost want to separate the two; Room
stands so well alone that attaching this bloated monster to it seems like a corruption.

The first part of each chapter, meanwhile, is an excerpt from The Patrician's Papers,
Vetinari's political treatise. They are self-important, and I suspect they might even be
dull. However, good news for you; they can also be skipped without trouble (like the
"Good Parts" edition of The Princess Bride).

Special thanks to my beta-readers: Mary, Yap, Mercator, and Casira. Also an especial
thank-you to Ryulabird, slang tutor, betareader, and perpetual thorn in my side ::grin::
without whose persistence this would never have been completed. You are Sugoi, all of

Just to clear up a few things, and prevent people from hurling books at me, I would like
to point out:

1. Vetinari is not dead, nor does he die, anywhere in this fanfic. The Editor's
commentaries upon his death are solely for the purpose of continuity.

2. If it makes you happier, it was Havelock's long-lost twin Lawrence who was buried, and
Havelock Vetinari is elsewhere. Cling to that.

3. This has almost no plot. Do not expect one. You've been warned.



Never in the history of Ankh-Morpork has there been a ruler quite like Havelock Vetinari.
If I had not with my own eyes witnessed his burial, I would not describe him as a cold,
calculating, heartless, ruthless ruler. But, since I have, I can. He is dead. Really.
We're sure this time.

In his decades of service to the city, Vetinari never hesitated to eliminate any threat,
destroy any rival to Ankh-Morpork's power, and arrest and imprison any street mime
unlucky enough to draw his attention.

His relationship with his city was precarious at best; he survived being arrested for
treason and attempted murder, attacked by a dragon, and at least two meals, that we
know of, cooked by C.M.O.T. Dibbler.

He was a man of few vices, if any, and even fewer virtues. His great accomplishment was
the transformation of Ankh-Morpork into the Disc's major political power. His
encouragement of open guild activity, his calm acceptance of a multi-species society
within the city, and his political negotiations both at home and abroad have set the
standard Ankh-Morpork looks for in any potential Patrician.

The job is open, by the way. Apply to the City Council, Rats Chamber, Patrician's
Palace, or send vitae c/o Commander Samuel Vimes, AMCW, Pseudopolis Yard, Ankh-Morpork.

After his death, the volume you are reading was discovered in notebook form in the
Patrician's private effects. It has obviously been ready for publication for some time;
indeed, the title of 'editor' is hardly more than a formality in this case. Some
annotations have been made to explain apparent mysteries in the text, and some
explanations have been added when necessary, but otherwise this is more or less an exact
copy of the Patrician's manuscript version.

Apparently, The Patrician's Papers is not merely a political treatise, but also a journal
of sorts; the progression of the writing from that of a young trainee Assassin through to
a seasoned statesman is quite clear. Whether this is intentional or whether the Papers
were simply written in his spare time is less definite.

Let me end, gentle readers, on a somewhat amusing note: If the Patrician had not written
this, and were alive today, he would never allow such a work to be published in his city.

-- Editor