Guards! Guards! (Discworld 8)

' 'I think you should get him a drink, Sergeant,'' he said.

“Yessir.”

“And get me one, too.”

“Yessir.”

“Have one yourself, why don't you.”

“Yessir.”

“And you, Corporal, will you please-what are you doing?”

“Searchingthebodiesir,” said Nobby quickly, straightening up. “For incriminating evidence, and that.”

' 'In their money pouches?''

Nobby thrust his hands behind his back. “You never know, sir,” he said.

The sergeant had located a miraculously unbroken bottle of spirits in the wreckage and forced a lot of its contents between Carrot's lips.

“What we going to do with all this lot, Captain?” he said over his shoulder.

“I haven't the faintest idea,” said Vimes, sitting down. The Watch jail was just about big enough for six very small people, which were usually the only sort to be put in it. Whereas these-

He looked around him desperately. There was Nork the Impaler, lying under a table and making bubbling noises. There was Big Henri. There was Grabber Sim-mons, one of the most feared bar-room fighters in the city. All in all, there were a lot of people it wouldn't pay to be near when they woke up.

“We could cut their froats, sir,” said Nobby, veteran of a score of residual battlefields. He had found an unconscious fighter who was about the right size and was speculatively removing his boots, which looked quite new and about the right size.

“That would be entirely wrong,” said Vimes. He wasn't sure how you actually went about cutting a throat. It had never hitherto been an option.

“No,” he said, “I think perhaps we'll let them off with a caution.”

There was a groan from under the bench.

“Besides,” he went on quickly, “we should get our fallen comrade to a place of safety as soon as possible.”

“Good point,” said the sergeant. He took a swig of the spirits, for the sake of his nerves.

The two of them managed to sling Carrot between them and guide his wobbling legs up the steps. Vimes, collapsing under the weight, looked around for Nobby.

“Corporal Nobbs,” he rasped, “why are you kicking people when they're down?”

“Safest way, sir,” said Nobby.

Nobby had long ago been told about fighting fair and not striking a fallen opponent, and had then given some creative thought to how these rules applied to someone four feet tall with the muscle tone of an elastic band.

“Well, stop it. I want you to caution the felons,” said the captain.

“How, sir?”

“Well, you-” Captain Vimes stopped. He was blowed if he knew. He'd never done it.

“Just do it,” he snapped. "Surely I don't have to tell you everything?''

Nobby was left alone at the top of the stairs. A general muttering and groaning from the floor indicated that people were waking up. Nobby thought quickly. He shook an admonitory cheese-straw of a finger.

“Let that be a lesson to you,” he said. "Don't do it again.''