'Late? Late? What do you mean?' Vimes fought to prevent his brain parting company with reality.
'You were supposed to have been married—' Carrot looked at the watch, then snapped it shut and handed it to Vimes. '—two minutes ago.'
'Yes, yes. But he called you sire, I heard him—'
'Just a trick of the echo, I expect, Mr Vimes.'
A thought broke through to Vimes' attention. Carrot's sword was a couple of feet long. He'd run Cruces clean through. But Cruces had been standing with his back to—
Vimes looked at the pillar. It was granite, and a foot thick. There was no cracking. There was just a blade-shaped hole, front to back.
'Carrot—' he began.
'And you look a mess, sir. Got to get you cleaned up.'
Carrot pulled the leather satchel towards him and slung it over his shoulder.
'Carrot—'
'Sir?'
'I order you to give—'
'No, sir. You can't order me. Because you are now, sir, no offence meant, a civilian. It's a new life.'
'A civilian?'
Vimes rubbed his forehead. It was all colliding in his brain now – the gonne, the sewers, Carrot and the fact that he'd been operating on pure adrenalin, which soon presents its bill and does not give credit. He sagged.
'But this is my life. Carrot! This is my job.'
'A hot bath and a drink, sir. That's what you need,' said Carrot. 'Do you a world of good. Let's go.'
Vimes' gaze took in the fallen body of Cruces and, then, the gonne. He went to pick it up, and stopped himself in time.
Not even the wizards had something like this. One burst from a staff and they had to go and lie down.
No wonder no-one had destroyed it. You couldn't destroy something as perfect as this. It called out to something deep in the soul. Hold it in your hand, and you had power. More power than any bow or spear – they just stored up your own muscles' power, when you thought about it. But the gonne gave you power from outside. You didn't use it, it used you. Cruces had probably been a good man. He'd probably listened kindly enough to Edward, and then he'd taken the gonne, and he'd belonged to it as well.
'Captain Vimes? I think we'd better get that out of here,' said Carrot, reaching down.
'Whatever you do, don't touch it!' Vimes warned.
'Why not? It's only a device,' said Carrot. He picked up the gonne by the barrel, regarded it for a moment, and then smashed it against the wall. Bits of metal pin-wheeled away.
'One of a kind,' he said. 'One of a kind is always special, my father used to say. Let's be going.'
He opened the door.
He shut the door.
'There's about a hundred Assassins at the bottom of the stairs,' he said.
'How many bolts have you got for your bow?' said Vimes. He was still staring at the twisted gonne.
'One.'
'Then it's a good thing you won't have any chance to reload anyway.'