Men at Arms (Discworld 15)

'It Troll New Year,' said Detritus.

'Is it? S'pose we got to learn about this sort of thing now. And says here there's this gritsuc—this dwarf rally or something—'

'Battle of Koom Valley Day,' said Constable Cuddy. 'Famous victory over the trolls.' He looked smug, insofar as anything could be seen behind the beard.

'Yeah? From ambush,' grunted Detritus, glowering at the dwarf.

'What? It was the trolls—' Cuddy began.

'Shut up,' said Colon. 'Look, it says here. . . says here they're marching. . . says here they're marching up Short Street.' He turned the paper over. 'Is this right?'

'Trolls going one way, dwarfs going the other?' said Carrot.

'Now there's a parade you don't want to miss,' said Nobby.

'What's wrong?' said Angua.

Carrot waved his hands vaguely in the air. 'Oh, dear. It's going to be dreadful. We must do something.'

'Dwarfs and trolls get along like a house on fire,' said Nobby. 'Ever been in a burning house, miss?'

Sergeant Colon's normally red face had gone pale pink. He buckled on his sword belt and picked up his truncheon.

e,' she said. 'That's better. Now off you go and keep the streets safe for all of us. And if you want to do something really useful, you could find Chubby.'

'Chubby?'

'He got out of his pen last night.'

'A dragon?'

Vimes groaned, and pulled a cheap cigar out of his pocket. Swamp dragons were becoming a minor nuisance in the city. Lady Ramkin got very angry about it.

People would buy them when they were six inches long and a cute way of lighting fires and then, when they were burning the furniture and leaving corrosive holes in the carpet, the floor and the cellar ceiling underneath it, they'd be shoved out to fend for themselves.

'We rescued him from a blacksmith in Easy Street,' said Lady Ramkin. 'I said, “My good man, you can use a forge like everyoneelse”. Poor little thing.'

'Chubby,' said Vimes. 'Got a light?'

'He's got a blue collar,' said Lady Ramkin.

'Right, yes.'

'He'll follow you like a lamb if he thinks you've got a charcoal biscuit.'

'Right.' Vimes patted his pockets.

'They're a little bit over-excited in this heat.'

Vimes reached down into a pen of hatchlings and picked up a small one, which flapped its stubby wings excitedly. It spurted a brief jet of blue flame. Vimes inhaled quickly.

'Sam, I really wish you wouldn't do that.'

'Sorry.'

'So if you could get young Carrot and that nice Corporal Nobbs to keep an eye out for—'

'No problem.'