The snow was falling thicker as they climbed the pass. The deep snow dragged at the wheels, and all Vimes could see were the darker shapes of the horses against the whiteness. Then the clouds parted briefly and he wished they hadn"t, because here they revealed that the darkness on the left of him was no longer rock but a sheer drop.
At the top of the pass the lights of an inn glowed out on to the thickening snow. Vimes drove the carriage into the yard.
"Detritus?"
"Sir?"
"I"ll watch our backs. Make sure this place is Okay, will you?"
"Yessir."
The troll jumped down, slotting a fresh bundle of arrows into the Piecemaker. Vimes spotted his intention just in time.
"Just knock, sergeant."
"Right you are", sir."
The troll knocked and entered. The buzz of sound from inside suddenly ceased. Vimes heard, muffled by the door, "Der Duke of Ankh is coming in. Anyone have a problem wid dis? Just say der word." And in the background, the little humming, singing noise the Piecemaker made under tension.
Vimes helped Sybil down from the coach. "How do you feel now?" he said.
She smiled faintly. "I think this dress will have to go for dusters," she said. She smiled a little more when she saw his expression.
"I knew you"d come up with something, Sam. You go all slow and cold and that means something really dreadful"s going to happen. I wasn"t frightened."
"Really? I was scared shi - stiff," said Vimes.
"What happened to Mister Skimmer? I remember him rummaging in his case and cursing - "
"I suspect Inigo Skimmer is alive and well," said Vimes grimly. "Which is more than can be said for those around him."
There was silence in the main room of the inn. A man and a woman, presumably the landlord and his wife, were standing flat against the back of the bar. The dozen or so other occupants lined the walls, hands in the air. Beer dribbled from a couple of spilled mugs.
"Everyt"ing normal an" peaceful," said Detritus, turning round.
Vimes realized that everyone was staring at him. He looked down. His shirt was torn. Mud and blood caked his clothes. Melted snow dripped off him. In his right hand, unregarded, he was still holding his crossbow.
"Bit of trouble on the road," he said. "Er, you know how it is."
No one moved.
"Oh, good gods. Detritus, put that damn thing
down, will you?"
"Right, sir."
The troll lowered his crossbow. Two dozen people all began to breathe again.
Then the skinny woman stepped around from behind the bar, nodded at Vimes, carefully took Lady Sybil"s hand from his, and pointed towards
the wide wooden stairs. The black look she gave Vimes puzzled him.
Only then did he realize that Lady Sybil was shaking. Tears were running down her face.
"And, er, my wife is a bit shaken up," he said weakly. "Corporal Littlebottom!" he yelled, to cover his confusion.
Cheery stepped through the doorway.