Men at Arms (Discworld 15)

'Detritus?'

'Sir?'

'How are you?'

'Oozing a bit, sir.'

A shot hit the carriage wheel above Vimes' head, making it spin.

'Carrot?'

'Right through my shoulder, sir.'

Vimes eased himself along on his elbows.

'Good morning, your lordship,' he said, manically. He leaned back and pulled out a mangled cigar. 'Got a light?'

The Patrician opened his eyes.

'Ah, Captain Vimes. And what happens now?'

Vimes grinned. Funny, he thought, how I never feel really alive until someone tries to kill me. That's when you notice that the sky is blue. Actually, not very blue right now. There's big clouds up there. But I'm noticing them.

'We wait for one more shot,' he said. 'And then we run for proper cover.'

'I appear . . . to be losing a lot of blood,' said Lord Vetinari.

'Who would have thought you had it in you,' said Vimes, with the frankness of those probably about to die. 'What about you, Carrot?'

'I can move my hand. Hurts like . . . heck, sir. But you look worse.'

Vimes looked down.

There was blood all over his coat.

'A bit of stone must have caught me,' he said. 'I didn't even feel it!'

He tried to form a mental picture of the gonne.

Six tubes, all in a line. Each one with its lead slug and charge of No.1 powder, delivered into the gonne like crossbow bolts. He wondered how long it'd take to put in another six . . .

But we've got him where we want him! There's only one way down out of the Tower!

Yep, we might be sitting out here in the open with him shooting lead pellets at us, but we've got him just where we want him!

Wheezing and farting nervously, Gaspode moved at a shambling run through the Shades and saw, with a heart that sank even further, a knot of dogs ahead of him.

He pushed and squirmed through the tangle of legs.

Angua was at bay in a ring of teeth.

The barking stopped. A couple of large dogs moved aside, and Big Fido stepped delicately forward.

'So,' he said, 'what we have here is not a dog at all. A spy, perhaps? There's always an enemy. Everywhere. They look like dogs but, inside, they're not dogs. What were you doing?'

Angua growled.

Oh lor', thought Gaspode. She could probably take down a few of 'em, but these are street dogs.