"You want I should come?" said Detritus, who could pick up signals.

"No, I think... I think I want to make an arrest. I don"t want to start a war. Anyway, you need to wait here in case he doubles back. But you could lend me your penknife."

Vimes found a sheet in one of the broken boxes and tore off a long strip. Then he took his crossbow from his wife.

"You see, now he"s committed a crime in Ankh-Morpork," he said. "That makes him mine."

"Sam, we"re not - "

"You know, everyone kept telling me I wasn"t in Ankh-Morpork so often that I believed it. But this embassy is Ankh-Morpork and, right now," he hefted the bow, "I am the law."

"Sam?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I know that look. Don"t hurt anyone else, will you?"

"Don"t worry, dear. I"m going to be civilized about it."

There was a cluster of dwarfs in the street outside, surrounding one lying on the snow in a pool of blood.

"Which way?" said Vimes, and if they didn"t understand his words they understood the question. Several of them pointed along the street.

As he walked Vimes cradled the crossbow and lit a thin cigar.

Now this he understood. He was never at ease with politics, where good and bad were just, apparently, two ways of looking at the same thing or, at least, were described like that by the people who were on the side Vimes thought of as "bad".

It was all too complicated and, where it was complicated, it meant that someone was trying to fool you. But on the street, in hot pursuit, it was all so clear. Someone was going to be still standing at the end of the chase, and all you had to concentrate on was making sure it was you.

On a street corner a cart had overturned and its driver was kneeling by a horse that had been ripped open.

"Which way?"

The man pointed.

The new street was wider, busier, and there were a number of elegant coaches moving slowly through the crowds. Of course... the coronation.

But that belonged to the world of the Duke of Ankh and, right now, he wasn"t here. There was only Sam Vimes, who didn"t much like coronations.

There were screams up ahead, and the flow of people was suddenly against Vimes, so that he appeared to be heading up-stream, like a salmon.

The street opened into a large square. People were running now, which suggested to Vimes

that he was still moving in the right direction. It was pretty clear that you"d find Wolfgang somewhere no one else wanted to be.

There was a flurry of movement on one side of him and a squad of the town guard trotted past. They halted. One of them walked back. It was Tantony.

He looked Vimes up and down. "I have you to thank for last night?" he said. There were fresh scars on his face, but they were already healing. We"ve got to get an Igor, Vimes reminded himself.

"Yes," said Vimes. "The good bits and the bad bits."

"And you see what happens when you stand up to a werewolf?"

Vimes opened his mouth to say, "Is that a uniform you"re wearing, captain, or is it fancy dress?" but stopped himself in time. "No, it"s what happens when you"re fool enough to stand up to a werewolf with no back-up and no firepower," he said. "I"m sorry, but we all have to learn that lesson. Integrity makes very poor armour."

The man reddened. "What is your business here?" he said.

"Our hairy friend just murdered someone in the embassy, which is - "

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net