Men at Arms (Discworld 15)

'Then it's a good thing you won't have any chance to reload anyway.'

There was a polite knock at the door.

Carrot glanced at Vimes, who shrugged. He opened the door.

It was Downey. He raised an empty hand.

'You can put down your weapons. I assure you they will not be necessary. Where is Dr Cruces?'

Carrot pointed.

Ah.' He glanced up at the two Watchmen.

'Would you, please, leave his body with us? We will inhume him in our crypt.'

Vimes pointed at the body.

'He killed—'

And now he is dead. And now I must ask you to leave.'

Downey opened the door. Assassins lined the wide stairs. There wasn't a weapon in sight. But, with Assassins, there didn't need to be.

At the bottom lay the body of Angua. The Watchmen walked down slowly, and Carrot knelt and picked it up.

He nodded to Downey.

'Shortly we will be sending someone .to collect the body of Dr Cruces,' he said.

'But I thought we had agreed that—'

'No. It must be seen that he is dead. Things must be seen. Things mustn't happen in the dark, or behind closed doors.'

'I am afraid I cannot accede to your request,' said the Assassin firmly.

'It wasn't a request, sir.'

Scores of Assassins watched them walk across the courtyard.

The black gates were shut.

No-one seemed about to open them.

'I agree with you, but perhaps you should have put that another way,' said Vimes. 'They don't look at all happy—'

The doors shattered. A six-foot iron arrow passed Carrot and Vimes and removed a large section of wall on the far side of the courtyard.

A couple of blows removed the rest of the gates, and Detritus stepped through. He looked around at the assembled Assassins, a red glow in his eyes. And growled.

It dawned on the smarter Assassins that there was nothing in their armoury that could kill a troll. They had fine stiletto knives, but they needed sledgehammers.

They had darts armed with exquisite poisons, none of which worked on a troll. No-one had ever thought trolls were important enough to be assassinated. Suddenly, Detritus was very important indeed. He had Cuddy's axe in one hand and his mighty crossbow in the other.

Some of the brighter Assassins turned and ran for it. Some were not as bright. A couple of arrows bounced off Detritus. Their owners saw his face as he turned towards them, and dropped their bows.

Detritus hefted his club.

'Acting-Constable Detritus!'