Thud! (Discworld 34)

The day was not improving for Brick. He"d drunk a beer. Well, maybe more"n one. Where was der harm in dat?

And now, there, right in front of him, wearing one o" dem helmets an" everyt"ing, was, yeah, could be a dwarf, insofar as the fizzing, sizzling pathways of his brain were capable of deciding anything at all. What der hell, they decided, it wasn"t a troll and dat was what it was all about, right? An" here was his club, right here in his han"

Instinct caused Vimes to turn as a troll opened red eyes, blinked and began to swing a club. Too slowly, too slowly in the suddenly frozen time, he tried to dive away, and he felt the club smash into his side and lift him, lift him up and tip him on to the ground. He could hear shouting as the troll lumbered forward, club raised again to make Vimes at one with the bedrock.

Brick became aware that he was being attacked. He stopped what he was doing and, with sparks going fwizzle! in his brain, looked down at his right knee. Some little gnome or somethin" was attackin" him wi" a blunt sword and kickin" an" scream in" like a mad fing. He put it down to the drink, like der feelin" that his ears were givin" off flames, an" brushed the fing away with a flip of his hand.

Vimes, helpless, saw A. E. Pessimal tumble across the plaza, and watched the troll turn back to the clubbing in hand. But Detritus, arriving behind it now, pulled it round with one shovel-sized hand and here came Detritus"s fist, like the wrath of gods. For Brick, everything went dar-

"You wish me to believe," said Lord Vetinari, "that Mr A. E. Pessimal

single-handedly attacked a troll?"

"Both hands, sir," said Vimes. "And feet, too. And tried to bite it, we

think."

"Isn"t that certain death?" said Vetinari. "That didn"t seem to worry him, sir."

Vimes had last seen A. E. Pessimal being bandaged by Igor and

smiling in a semi-conscious way. Watchmen were dropping in all

the time to say things like "Hi, Big Man!" and slap him on the back.

The world had turned for A. E. Pessimal.

"Might I enquire, Vimes, why one of my most conscientious and

most decidedly civilian clerks was in a position to do this?"

Vimes shifted uncomfortably. "He was inspecting. Learning all

about us, sir." He gave Vetinari the look which said: if you take this

any further I will have to lie.

Vetinari returned one which said: I know.

"You yourself are not too badly injured?" the Patrician said aloud. "Just a few scratches, sir," said Vimes.

Vetinari gave him a look which said: broken ribs, I"m certain of it.

Vimes returned one which said: nothing.

Vetinari wandered over to the window and stared down at the waking city. He didn"t speak for some time, and then let out a sigh.

"Such a shame, I think, that so many of them were born here," he said.

Vimes stuck with saying nothing. It generally sufficed.

"Perhaps I should have taken action against that wretched dwarf" Vetinari went on.

"Yes, sir."

"You think so? A wise ruler thinks twice before directing violence against someone because he does not approve of what they say."

Once again, Vimes did not comment. He himself directed violence daily and with a certain amount of enthusiasm against people because he didn"t approve of them saying things like "Give me all your money" or "What are you going to do about it, copper?" But perhaps rulers had to think differently. Instead he said: "Someone else didn"t, sir."