It's been arrested, he thought, as he pushed his way forward. Personally I would have preferred it to drop in the sea, but it's been arrested and now we've got to deal with it or let it go free.
He felt his own feelings about the bloody thing evaporate in the face of the mob. What could you do with it? Give it a fair trial, he thought, and then execute it. Not kill it. That's what heroes do out in the wilderness. You can't think like that in cities. Or rather, you can, but if you're going to then you might as well burn the whole place down right now and start again. You ought to do it ... well, by the book.
That's it. We tried everything else. Now we might as well try and do it by the book.
Anyway, he added mentally, that's a city guard up there. We've got to stick together. Nobody else will have anything to do with us.
A burly figure in front of him drew back an arm with a halfbrick in it.
“Throw that brick and you're a dead man,” said Vimes, and then ducked and pushed his way through the press of people while the would-be thrower looked around in amazement.
Carrot half-raised his club in a threatening gesture as Vimes climbed up the rubble pile.
“Oh, hallo, Captain Vimes,” he said, lowering it, “I have to report I have arrested this-”
“Yes, I can see,” said Vimes. “Did you have any suggestions about what we do next?”
“Oh, yes, sir. I have to read it its rights, sir,” said Carrot.
“I mean apart from that.”
“Not really, sir.”
Vimes looked at those parts of the dragon still visible under the rubble. How could you kill one of these? You'd have to spend a day at it.
A lump of rock ricocheted off his breastplate.
“Who did that?”
The voice lashed out like a whip.
The crowd went quiet.
Sybil Ramkin scrambled up on the wreckage, eyes afire, and glared furiously at the mob.
“I said,” she said, “who did that? If the person who did it does not own up I shall be extremely angry! Shame on you all!”
She had their full attention. Several people holding stones and things let them drop quietly to the ground.
The breeze flapped the remnants of her nightshirt as her Ladyship took up a new haranguing position.
“Here is the gallant Captain Vimes-”
“Oh gods,” said Vimes in a small voice, and pulled his helmet down over his eyes.
“-and his dauntless men, who have taken the trouble to come here today, to save your-”
Vimes gripped Carrot's arm and manoeuvred him down the far side of the heap.
“You all right, Captain?” said the lance-constable. “You've gone all red.”
“Don't you start,” snapped Vimes. “It's bad enough getting all those leers from Nobby and the sergeant.”
balanced on his flame. He seemed to be thinking.
Then he nonchalantly kicked his back legs out as though hovering on your own stomach gases was something dragons had mastered over millions of years, somersaulted, and fled. For a moment he was visible as a silver streak, and then he was out over the city walls and gone.
A groan followed him. It came from ten thousand throats.