Guards! Guards! (Discworld 8) - Page 177

“Yeah? Well, it'd have to be,” said a guard. “Captain Slimes, was it?”

“Vimes,” said Vimes evenly. “With a Vee.”

One of the guards nodded to his companion.

“Vimes,” he said. “With a Vee.”

“Fancy,” said the other guard.

“It's most urgent,” said Vimes, maintaining a wooden expression. He tried to move forward.

The first guard sidestepped neatly and pushed him sharply in the chest.

“No-one is going nowhere,” he said. “Orders of the king, see? So you can push off back to your pit, Captain Vimes with a Vee.”

It wasn't the words which made up Vimes's mind. It was the way the other man sniggered.

“Stand aside,” he said.

The guard leaned down. “Who's going to make me,” he rapped on Vimes's helmet, “copper?”

There are times when it is a veritable pleasure to drop the bomb right away.

“Lance-constable Carrot, I want you to charge these men,” said Vimes.

Carrot saluted. “Very good, sir,” he said, and turned and trotted smartly back the way they had come.

“Hey!” shouted Vimes, as the boy disappeared around a corner.

“That's what I like to see,” said the first guard, leaning on his speak. “That's a young man with initiative, that young man. A bright lad. He doesn't want to stop along here and have his ears twisted off. That's a young man who's going to go a long way, if he's got any sense.”

“Very sensible,” said the other guard.

He leaned the spear against the wall.

“You Watch men make me want to throw up,” he said conversationally. “Poncing around all the time, never doing a proper job of work. Throwing your weight about as if you counted for something. So me and Clarence are going to show you what real guarding is all about, isn't that right?”

I could just about manage one of them, Vimes thought as he took a few steps backward. If he was facing the other way, at least.

Clarence propped his spear against the gateway and spat on his hands.

There was a long, terrifying ululation. Vimes was amazed to realise it wasn't coming from him.

Carrot appeared around the corner at a dead run. He had a felling axe in either hand.

His huge leather sandals flapped on the cobblestones as he bounded closer, accelerating all the time. And all the time there was this cry, deedahdeedahdeedah, like something caught in a trap at the bottom of a two-tone echo canyon.

The two palace guards stood rigid with astonishment.

“I should duck, if I was you,” said Vimes from near ground level.

The two axes left Carrot's hands and whirred through the air making a noise like a brace of partridges. One of them hit the palace gate, burying half the head in the woodwork. The other one hit the shaft of the first one, and split it. Then Carrot arrived.

Vimes went and sat down on a nearby bench for a while, and rolled himself a cigarette.

Eventually he said, “I think that's about enough, constable. I think they'd like to come quietly now.”

“Yes, sir. What are they accused of, sir?” said Carrot, holding one limp body in either hand.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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