Guards! Guards! (Discworld 8)

“Right, sir.”

Vimes remembered too late.

Dwarfs have trouble with metaphors.

They also have a very good aim.

The Laws and Ordinances of Ankh and Morpork caught the secretary on the forehead. He blinked, staggered, and stepped backwards.

It was the longest step he ever took. For one thing, it lasted the rest of his life.

After several seconds they heard him hit, five storeys below.

After several more seconds their faces appeared over the edge of the ravaged floor.

“What a way to go,” said Sergeant Colon.

“That's a fact,” said Nobby, reaching up to his ear for a dog-end.

“Killed by a wossname. A metaphor.”

“Dunno,” said Nobby. “Looks like the ground to me. Got a light, Sarge?”

“That was right, wasn't it, sir?” said Carrot anxiously. “You said to-”

“Yes, yes,” said Vimes. “Don't worry.” He reached down with a shaking hand, picked up the bag Wonse had been holding, and tipped out a pile of stones. Every one had a hole in it. Why? he thought.

A metallic noise behind him made him look around. The Patrician was holding the remains of the royal sword. As the captain watched, the man wrenched the other half of the sword out of the far wall. It was a clean break.

“Captain Vimes,” he said.

“Sir?”

“That sword, if you please?”

Vimes handed it over. He couldn't, right now, think of anything else to do. He was probably due for a scorpion pit of his very own as it was.

Lord Vetinari examined the rusty blade carefully.

“How long have you had this, Captain?” he said mildly.

“Isn't mine, sir. Belongs to Lance-constable Carrot, sir.”

“Lance-?”

“Me, sir, your graciousness,” said Carrot, saluting.

“Ah.”

The Patrician turned the blade over and over slowly, staring at it as if fascinated. Vimes felt the air thicken, as though history was clustering around this point, but for the life of him he couldn't think why. This was one of those points where the Trousers of Time bifurcated themselves, and if you weren't careful you'd go down the wrong leg-

...

Wonse arose in a world of shades, icy confusion pouring into his mind. But all he could think of at the moment was the tall cowled figure standing over him.

o;No,” he said. “No more running. I want these men arrested.”

“You wouldn't dare,” said one of the men. Vimes peered at him.