Thud! (Discworld 34)

"She can crack a lobster with her fist," Colon observed. "That"s a very portable talent."

"So I was thinking of speaking to Angua," said Nobby. "She might give me a few hints on how to let Tawneee down gently."

"That"s a good idea, Nobby," said Fred. "No touchin, sir, otherwise I shall have to cut yer fingers orf." This was said, in a friendly tone of voice, to a dwarf who"d been reaching in awe towards the board.

"But we"ll still be friends, of course," said Nobby, as the dwarf backed away. "So long as I can get into the Pink PussyCat Club for free, anyway, I"ll always be there if she needs a helmet to cry on., "That"s very modern of you, Nobby," said Fred. He smiled in the gloom. Somehow, the world was back on course.

Wandering through the world, the eternal troll ...

Brick headed after Detritus, dragging his club.

Well, he wuz goin" up in der worl" an" no mistakin"! Dey said it hurt if you come off of der stuff, but Brick had always hurt, all his life, and right now it wasn"t too bad at all. It wuz, like, weird der way he could fink to the end of a sentence now an" still remember der start of it. An" he wuz bein" given food, which he wuz gettin" to like once he stopped frowing it up. Sergeant Detritus, who knew eveythin" had tole him if"n he stayed clean an" smartened up he could rise as high as Lance-Constable one day, makin" heapo money.

He wuzn"t too sure what had been happnin" to cause all dis. It

looked like he wasn"t in der city any more, an" dere had been some fightin, and Sergeant Detritus had showed him dese kinda dead people and smacked him aroun" der head an" said "Remember!" an" he wuz doin" his best, but he"d been smacked aroun" der head a hole lot harder many, many times and dat one was nuffin". But Sergeant Detritus said it wuz all about not hatin" dwarfs no more and dat was okay cuz really Brick never had der energy to waste hatin". What dey had been doin" down dat hole was makin" der worl" a betterer place, Sergeant Detritus said.

And it seemed to Brick, as he smelled the food, dat Sergeant Detritus had got dat one dead right.

Trolls and dwarfs had raised a huge roundhouse in Koom Valley, using giant boulders for the walls and half a fallen forest for the roof. A fire thirty yards long crackled inside. Ranged around it on long benches were the kings of more than a hundred dwarf mines, and the leaders of eighty troll clans, with their followers and servants and bodyguards. The noise was intense, the smoke was thick, the heat was a wall.

It had been a good day. Progress had been made. The guests were not mixing, that was true, but nor were they trying to kill one another. This was a promising development. The truce was holding.

At the high table, King Rhys leaned back in his makeshift throne and said, "One does not make demands of kings. One makes requests, which are graciously granted. Does he not understand?"

"I don"t think he gives a tra"ka, sir, if I may be coarse," said Grag Bashfullsson, who was standing respectfully beside him. "And the senior dwarfs in the city will be right behind him on this. It"s not my place, sir, but I advise acquiescence."

"And that"s all he wants? No gold, no silver, no concessions?" "That"s all he wants, sire. But I suspect you will be hearing from Lord Vetinari before long."

"Oh, you may be sure of that!" said the King. He sighed. "It"s a new world, Grag, but some things don"t change. Er ... that ... thing has left him, has it?

"I believe so, sire."

"You are not certain?"

The grag smiled a faint, inward smile. "Let"s just say that his reasonable request is best granted, shall we, sire?" "Your point is taken, Grag. Thank you."

King Rhys turned in his seat, leaned across the two empty places and said to the Diamond King: "Do you think something has happened to them? It"s past six o"clock!"

Shine smiled, filling the hall with light. "I suspect they"ve been delayed by matters of great importance."

"More important than this?" said the dwarf king.

... and, because some things are important, the coach stood outside the magistrate"s house, down in the town. The horses stamped impatiently. The coachman waited. Inside, Lady Sybil darned a sock, because some things are important, with a faint smile on her face.

And floating out of an open upstairs window was the voice of Sam Vimes: "It goes, "Hruuugh!" It is a hippopotamus! That"s not my cow!"

Nevertheless, it was close enough for now. ullsson was watching the attempt with a puzzled expression.

"What is the dwarf word for "open"; Mr Bashfullsson?" said Vimes.

"In the sense of "open a book"? That would be "dhwe", commander."

"Hmm. That won"t do. How about... "say"?"

"Why, that would be "aargk", or, in the peremptive form, "cork!", commander. You know, I don"t think-"

"Excuse me!" said Vimes loudly. The babble of voices stopped.