Vimes stepped out into the sunlight, except that there wasn't much of it. Clouds were blowing in from the Hub. And—
'Detritus?'
Dink. 'Captain Vimes, sah!'
'Who're all these people?'
'Watchmen, sir.'
Vimes stared in puzzlement at the half-dozen assorted guards.
'Who're you?'
'Lance-Constable Hrolf Pyjama, sir.'
And y— Coalface?'
'I never done nuffin.'
'I never done nuffin, sah!' yelled Detritus.
'Coalface? In the Watch?'
Dink. 'Corporal Carrot says there's some good buried somewhere in everyone,' said Detritus.
And what's your job, Detritus.'
Dink. 'Engineer in charge of deep mining operations, sah!'
Vimes scratched his head.
'That was very nearly a joke, wasn't it?' he said.
'It this new helmet my mate Cuddy made me, sir. Hah! People can't say, there go stupid troll. They have to say, who that goodlooking military troll there, acting-constable already, great future behind him, he got Destiny written all over him like writing.'
'
'It'd save a lot of trouble if we went to the wizards and asked them—'
'Captain Vimes never had any truck with magic.'
'No, but. . .'
'No magic, sergeant.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Guard of honour all sorted out?'
'Yes, sir. Their cohorts all gleaming in purple and gold, sir.'
'Really?'
'Very important, sir, good clean cohorts. Frighten the life out the enemy.'
'Good.'
'But I can't find Corporal Nobbs, sir.'