Men at Arms (Discworld 15)

Carrot was staring at the ceiling, his eyebrows locked in concentration. Detritus was counting on his fingers.

'Oh, yes,' said Sergeant Colon. 'Beer'd be a penny a pint, the trees'd bloom again. Oh, yeah. Every time someone stubs a toe in this town, turns out it wouldn't have happened if there'd been a king. Vimes'd go spare to hear you talk like that.'

'People'd listen to a king, though,' said Nobby.

'Vimes'd say that's the trouble,' said Colon. 'It's like that thing of his about using magic. That stuff makes him angry.'

'How you get king inna first place?' said Detritus.

'Someone sawed up a stone,' said Colon.

'Hah! Anti-siliconism!'

'Nah, someone pulled a sword out of a stone,' said Nobby.

'How'd he know it was in there, then?' Colon demanded.

'It . . . it was sticking out, wasn't it?'

'Where anyone could've grabbed it? In this town?'

'Only the rightful king could do it, see,' said Nobby.

'Oh, right,' said Colon. 'I understand. Oh, yes. So what you're saying is, someone'd decided who the rightful king was before he pulled it out? Sounds like a fix to me. Prob'ly someone had a fake hollow stone and some dwarf inside hanging on the other end with a pair of pliers until the right guy came along—'

A fly bounced on the window pane for a while, then zigzagged across the room and settled on a beam, where Cuddy's idly thrown axe cut it in half.

'You got no soul, Fred,' said Nobby. 'I wouldn't've minded being a knight in shining armour. That's what a king does if you're useful. He makes you a knight.'

'A night watchman in crappy armour is about your métier,' said Colon, who looked around proudly to see if anyone had noticed the slanty thing over the e. 'Nah, catch me being respectful to some bloke because he just pulled a sword out of a stone. That don't make you a king. Mind you,' he said, 'someone who could shove a sword into a stone . . . a man like that, now, he's a king 'A man like that'd be an ace,' said Nobby.

Angua yawned.

Ding-ding a-ding-ding—

'What the hell's that?' said Colon.

Carrot's chair thumped forward. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a velvet bag, which he upended on to the table. Out slid a golden disc about three inches across. When he pressed a catch on one side it opened like a clamshell.

The stopped Watch peered at it.

'It's a clock?' said Angua.

'A watch,' said Carrot.

'It's very big.'

'That's because of the clockwork. There has to be room for all the little wheels. The small watches just have those little time demons in and they don't last and anyway they keep rotten time—'

Ding-ding a-ding-ding, ding dingle ding ding . . .

'And it plays a rune!' said Angua.

'Every hour,' said Carrot. 'It's part of the clockwork.'

Ding. Ding. Ding.

'And it chimes the hours afterwards,' said Carrot.