Feet of Clay

women, for the use of…” There was always a snag. If a choir of angels asked for volunteers for Paradise to step forward. Nobby knew enough to take one smart pace to the rear.
    When the call came for Corporal Nobbs, it would not find him wanting. It would not find him at all.
    Nobby avoided a herd of pigs in the middle of the street.
    Even Mr. Vimes never expected him to volunteer . He respected Nobby’s pride.
    Nobby’s head ached. It must’ve been the quail’s eggs, he was sure. They couldn’t be healthy birds to lay titchy eggs like that.
    He sidled past a cow that had got its head stuck in someone’s window.
    Nobby as king? Oh, yes . No one ever gave a Nobbs anything except maybe a skin disease or sixty lashes. It was a dog-eat-Nobbs world, right enough. If there were to be a world competition for losers, a Nobbs would come firs—last.
    He stopped running and went to earth in a doorway. In its welcome shadows he extracted a very short cigarette end from behind his ear and lit it.
    Now that he felt safe enough to think about more than flight he wondered about all the animals that seemed to be on the streets. Unlike the family tree that had borne Fred Colon as its fruit, the creeping vine of the Nobbses had flourished only within city walls. Nobby was vaguely aware of animals as being food in a primary stage and left it at that. But he was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be wandering around untidily like this.
    Gangs of men were trying to round them up. Since they were tired and working at cross-purposes, and the animals were hungry and bewildered, all that was happening was that the streets were getting a lot muddier.
    Nobby became aware that he was not alone in the doorway.
    He looked down.
    Also lurking in the shadows was a goat. It was unkempt and smelly, but it turned its head and gave Nobby the most knowing look he’d ever seen on the face of an animal. Unexpectedly, and most uncharacteristically, Nobby was struck by a surge of fellow-feeling.
    He pinched out the end of his cigarette and passed it down to the goat, which ate it.
    “You and me both,” said Nobby.

    Miscellaneous livestock scattered madly as Carrot, Angua, and Cheri made their way down the Shambles. They especially tried to keep away from Angua. It seemed to Cheri that an invisible barrier was advancing in front of them. Some animals tried to climb walls or scattered madly into side alleys.
    “Why are they so scared?” said Cheri.
    “Can’t imagine,” said Angua.
    A few maddened sheep ran away from them as they walked around the candle factory. Light from its high windows indicated that candlemaking continued all night.
    “They make nearly half a million candles every twenty-four hours,” said Carrot. “I heard they’ve got very advanced machinery. It sounds very interesting. I’d love to see it.”
    At the rear of the premises light blazed out into the fog. Crates of candles were being manhandled on to a succession of carts.
    “Looks normal enough,” said Carrot, as they eased themselves into a conveniently shadowy doorway. “Busy, though.”
    “I don’t see what good this is going to do,” said Angua. “As soon as they see us they can destroy any evidence. And, even if we find arsenic, so what? There’s no crime in owning arsenic, is there?”
    “Er…is there a crime in owning that? ” whispered Cheri.
    A golem was walking slowly up the alley. It was quite unlike any other golem they had seen. The others were ancient and had repaired themselves so many times they were as shapeless as a gingerbread man, but this one looked like a human, or at least like humans wished they could look. It resembled a statue made of white clay. Around its head, part of the very design, was a crown.
    “I was right ,” murmured Carrot. “They did make themselves a golem. The poor devils. They thought a king would make them free.”
    “Look at its legs,” said Angua.
    As the golem walked, lines of red light appeared and disappeared all over its legs, and across its body and arms.
    “It’s cracking,” she said.
    “I knew you couldn’t bake pottery in an old bread oven!” said Cheri. “It’s not the right shape! ”
    The golem pushed open a door and disappeared into the factory.
    “Let’s go,” said Carrot.
    “Commander Vimes told us to wait for him,” said Angua.
    “Yes, but we don’t know what might be going on in there,” said Carrot. “Besides, he likes us to use our initiative. We can’t just hang