Inigo made out the shape that appeared at the very edge of the light, with both hands up.
"Are you all right, Sybil?" said Vimes.
"A bit cold, Sam."
"You"re not hurt?"
"No, Sam."
"Keep your hands where I can see them, Your Grace Vimes!"
"And are you going to promise me you"ll let her go?" said Vimes.
A flame flickered near Vimes"s face, a bright pool in the darkness, as he lit a cigar.
"Now, Your Grace Vimes , whyever should I do that? But I am sure Ankh-Morpork will pay a lot for you!"
"Ah. I thought so," said Vimes. He shook the match out, and the cigar end glowed for a moment. "Sybil?"
"Yes, Sam?"
"Duck."
There was a second filled only with the indrawing of breath, and then as Lady Sybil dived forward Vimes"s hand came around from behind him in an arc, there was a silken sound, and the man"s head was flung back.
Inigo leapt and caught the man"s crossbow as it was dropped, then rolled and came up firing. Another figure staggered.
Vimes was aware of a commotion elsewhere as he grabbed Sybil and helped her back into the coach. Inigo had vanished, but a scream in the dark didn"t sound like anyone Vimes knew.
And then... only the hiss of snow in the fire.
"I... think they"re gone, sir," said Cheery"s voice.
"Not as fast as us! Detritus?"
"Sir?"
"Are you Okay?"
"Feelin" very tactful, sir."
"You two take that coach, I"ll take this, and let"s get the hell out of here, shall we?"
"Where"s Mister Skimmer?" said Sybil.
There was another scream from the woods.
"Forget him!"
"But he"s - "
"Forget him!"
The snow was falling thicker as they climbed the pass. The deep snow dragged at the wheels, and all Vimes could see were the darker shapes of the horses against the whiteness. Then the clouds parted briefly and he wished they hadn"t, because here they revealed that the darkness on the left of him was no longer rock but a sheer drop.
At the top of the pass the lights of an inn glowed out on to the thickening snow. Vimes drove the carriage into the yard.
"Detritus?"