Unless they were remotely fashion conscious, she had to admit. The problem was that the... well, she had to think of them as the new dwarf women, hadn"t quite settled on a look.

Lady Sybil herself usually wore ballgowns of a light blue, a colour often chosen by ladies of a certain age and girth to combine the maximum of quiet style with the minimum of visibility. But dwarf girls had heard about sequins. They seemed to have decided in their bones that if they were going to overturn thousands of years of subterranean tradition they weren"t going to go through all that for no damn twinset and pearls.

"And red is good," said Lady Sybil sincerely. "Red is a very nice colour. It"s a nice red dress. Er. And the feathers. Er. The bag to carry your axe, er - "

"Not glittery enough?" said Cheery.

"No! No... if I was going to carry a large axe on my back to a diplomatic function I think I"d want it glittery too. Er. It is such a very large axe, of course," she finished lamely.

"You think perhaps a smaller one might be better? For evening wear?"

"That would be a start, yes."

"Perhaps with a few rubies set in the handle?"

"Yes," said Lady Sybil weakly. "Why not, after all?"

"What about me, ladyship?" Detritus rumbled.

Igor had certainly risen to the occasion, applying to a number of suits found in the embassy wardrobes the same pioneering surgical skills that he used on unfortunate loggers and other people who may have strayed too close to a bandsaw. It had taken him just ninety minutes to construct something around Detritus. It was definitely evening dress. You couldn"t get away with it in daylight. The troll looked like a wall with a bow tie.

"How does it all feel?" said Lady Sybil, playing for safety.

"It are rather tight around der - what"s dis bit called?"

"I really have no idea," said Lady Sybil.

"It makes me lurch a bit," said Detritus. "But I feel very diplomatic."

"Not the crossbow, however," said Lady Sybil.

"She got her axe," said Detritus accusingly.

"Dwarf axes are accepted as a cultural weapon," said Lady Sybil. "I don"t know the etiquette here, but I suppose you could get away with a club." After all, she added to herself, it"s not as though anyone would try to take it off you.

"Der crossbow ain"t cultural?"

"I"m afraid not."

"I could put, like, glitter on it."

"Not enough, I"m afraid - oh, Sam..."

"Yes, dear?" said Vimes, coming down the stairs.

"That"s just your Watch dress uniform! What about your ducal regalia?"

"Can"t find it anywhere," said Vimes innocently. "I think the bag must have fallen off the coach in the pass, dear. But I"ve got a helmet with feathers in it and Igor"s buffed up the breastplate until he could see his face in it, although I"m not sure why." He quailed at her expression. "Duke is a military term, dear. No soldier would ever go to war in tights. Not if he thought he might be taken prisoner."

"I find this highly suspicious, Sam."

"Detritus will back me up on this," said Vimes.

"Days right, sir," the troll rumbled. "You distinctly said to say dat "

"Anyway, we"d better be goi - good grief, is that Cheery?"

"Yes, sir," said Cheery nervously.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net