Jingo (Discworld 21)

'We have tradition,' said Jabbar. 'A man who is a guest in your tent, even if he is your worst enemy, you owe him hospitality for tree dace.'

'Tree dace, eh?' said Vimes. 'I learn language on...' Jabbar waved a hand vaguely, 'you know, wooden ting, a camel of the sea–'

'Boat?'

'Right! But too many water!' He slapped Vimes on the back again, so that hot fat spilled into his lap. 'Any road up, lots speaking Morporkian these dace, offendi. It is language of... merchant.' He put an inflection on the word that suggested it was the same as 'earthworm'. 'So you have to know how to say things like “Give us all your money”?' said Vimes. 'Why ask?' said Jabbar. 'We take it anyway. But now...' he spat at the fire with amazing accuracy '... they say, we got to stop, this is wrong. What harm do we do?'

'Apart from killing people and taking all their merchandise?' said Vimes. Jabbar laughed again. 'Wali said you were a big diplomatic! But we don't kill merchants, why should we kill merchants? What is the sense? How foolish to be killing gift horse that lays the golden egg!'

'You could make money exhibiting it, certainly,' said Vimes. 'We kill merchants, we rob too much, they never come back. Dumb. We let them go, they get rich again, our sons rob them. Such is wisdom.'

'Ah... it's a sort of agriculture,' said Vimes. 'Right! But if you plant merchants, they don't grow so good.' Vimes realized that it was getting colder as the sun went down. In fact, a lot colder. He inched closer to the fire. 'Why is he called 71–hour Ahmed?' he said. The murmur of conversation stopped. Suddenly all eyes were on Jabbar, except the one that had ended up in the shadows. 'Not so diplomatic,' said Jabbar. 'We chase him up here, then suddenly we're ambushed by you. That seems–'

'I know nothing,' said Jabbar. 'Why won't you–?' Vimes began.

'Er, sir,' said Carrot urgently. 'That would be very unwise, sir. Look, I had a bit of a talk with Jabbar while you were... resting. It's a bit political, I'm afraid.'

'What isn't?'

'Prince Cadram is trying to unite the whole of Klatch, you see.'

'Dragging it kicking and screaming into the Century of the Fruitbat?'

'Why, yes, sir, how did–?'

'Just a lucky guess. Go on.'

'But he has been having trouble,' said Carrot. 'What kind?' said Vimes. 'Us,' said Jabbar proudly. 'None of the tribes like the idea, sir,' Carrot went on. 'They've always fought among themselves, and now most of them are fighting him. Historically, sir, Klatch isn't so much an empire as an argument.' ,He say, you must be educated. You must be learning to pay taxes. We do not wish to be educated about taxes,' said Jabbar. 'So you think you're fighting for your freedom?' said Vimes. Jabbar hesitated, and looked at Carrot. There was a brief exchange in Klatchian. Then Carrot said: 'That's a rather difficult question for a D'reg, sir. You see, their word for “freedom” is the same as their word for “fighting”.'

'They certainly make their language do a lot of work, don't they... ?' Vimes was feeling better in the caller air. He took out a crushed and damp packet of cigars, pulled a coal out of the fire, and took a deep drag. 'So... Prince Charming's got a lot of troubles at home, has he? Does Vetinari know this?'

'Does a camel shit in the desert, sir?'

'You're really getting the hang of Klatch, aren't you?' said Vimes. Jabbar rumbled something. There was more laughter. 'Er... Jabbar says a camel certainly does shit in the desert, sir, otherwise you wouldn't have anything to light your cigar with, sir.' Once again, there was one of those moments when Vimes felt that he was under close scrutiny. Be diplomatic, Vetinari had told him. He took another deep draw. 'Improves the flavour,' he said. 'Remind me to take some home.' In Jabbar's eyes, the judges held up at least a couple of grudging eights. 'A man on a horse came and said we must fight the foreign dogs–'

imes, I don't think–'

'Do it!' The D'reg looked into his eyes while Carrot hawked his way through the demand. The man was still grinning Vimes couldn't risk shifting his gaze, but he sensed some puzzlement and confusion among the tribesmen. Then, as one man, they charged. A Klatchian fishing boat, whose captain knew which way the wind was blowing, made its way back to the harbour of Al–Khali It seemed to the captain that, despite the favourable wind, he wasn't making quite the speed he should. He put it down to barnacles.

Vimes awoke with a noseful of camel. There are far worse awakenings, but not as many as you might think By turning his head, which took some effort, he ascertained that the camel was sitting down. By the sound of things, it was digesting something explosive. Now, how had he got here... Oh, gods... But it should have worked... It was classic. You threatened to cut off the head and the body just folded up. That was how everyone reacted, wasn't it? That was practically how civilization worked... Put it down to cultural differences, then. On the other hand, he wasn't dead. According to Carrot, knowing the D'regs for five minutes and still being alive at the end of it meant that they really, really liked you. On the other other hand, he'd just given their head man a Handshake, which influenced people without making friends. Well, no sense lying over this saddle bound hand and foot and dying of sunstroke all day. He ought to start being a leader of men again, and would do so just as soon as he could get this camel out of his mouth. 'Bingeley–bingeley beep?'

'Yes?' said Vimes, struggling with his bonds. 'Would you like to know about the appointments you missed?'

'No! I'm hying to get these damn ropes untied!'

'Do you want me to put that on your To Do list?'

'Oh, you've woken up, sir.' It sounded like Carrot's voice and it was the sort of thing he'd say. Vimes tried to turn his head. What he saw was mainly a white sheet, but it then became Carrot's face, upside down. 'They asked if they should untie you but I said you hadn't been getting enough rest lately,' Carrot went on. 'Captain, my arms and legs have gone to sleep . . Vimes began. 'Oh, well done, sir! That's a start, at least.'

'Carrot?'

'Yes, sir?'

'I want you to listen very carefully to the order I am about to give you.'

'Certainly, sir.'

'The point I'm making is that it won't be a request or a suggestion or some sort of hint.'