Men at Arms

joined, and as for Nobby, the best he’d ever get to an oath was something like “bugger this for a game of soldiers.”
    “All right, then,” he said. “You’ve all, er, got to take the oath…eh…and Corporal Carrot will show you how. Did you take the, er, oath when you joined us, Carrot?”
    “Oh, yes, sarge. Only no one asked me, so I gave it to myself, quiet like.”
    “Oh? Right. Carry on, then.”
    Carrot stood up and removed his helmet. He smoothed down his hair. Then he raised his right hand.
    “Raise your right hands, too,” he said. “Er…that’s the one nearest Lance-Constable Angua, Lance-Constable Detritus. And repeat after me…” He closed his eyes and his lips moved for a moment, as though he was reading something off the inside of his skull.
    “‘I comma square bracket recruit’s name square bracket comma’…”
    He nodded at them. “You say it.”
    They chorused a reply. Angua tried not to laugh.
    “‘…do solemnly swear by square bracket recruit’s deity of choice square bracket…’”
    Angua couldn’t trust herself to look at Carrot’s face.
    “‘…to uphold the Laws and Ordinances of the city of Ankh-Morpork, serve the public trust comma and defend the subjects of His stroke Her bracket delete whichever is inappropriate bracket Majesty bracket name of reigning monarch bracket…’”
    Angua tried to look at a point behind Carrot’s ear. On top of everything else, Detritus’ patient monotone was already several dozen words behind everyone else.
    “‘…without fear comma favor comma or thought of personal safety semi-colon to pursue evildoers and protect the innocent comma laying down my life if necessary in the cause of said duty comma so help me bracket aforesaid deity bracket full stop Gods Save the King stroke Queen bracket delete whichever is inappropriate bracket full stop.’”
    Angua subsided gratefully, and then did see Carrot’s face. There were unmistakable tears trickling down his cheek.
    “Er…right,…that’s it, then, thank you,” said Sergeant Colon, after a while.
    “— pro-tect the in-no-cent com-ma —”
    “In your own time, Lance-Constable Detritus.”
    The sergeant cleared his throat and consulted the clipboard again.
    “Now, Grabber Hoskins has been let out of jail again, so be on the look out, you know what he’s like when he’s had his celebratory drink, and bloody Coalface the troll beat up four men last night—”
    “— in the cause of said du-ty com-ma —”
    “Where’s Captain Vimes?” demanded Nobby. “He should be doing this.”
    “Captain Vimes is…sorting things out,” said Sergeant Colon. “’S’not easy, learning civilianing. Right.” He glanced at his clipboard again, and back to the guardsmen. Men…hah.
    His lips moved as he counted. There, sitting between Nobby and Constable Cuddy, was a very small, raggedy man, whose beard and hair were so overgrown and matted together that he looked like a ferret peering out of a bush.
    “— me brack-et af-ore-said de-it-y brack-et full stop .”
    “Oh, no,” he said. “What’re you doing here, Here’n’now? Thank you, Detritus— don’t salute —you can sit down now.”
    “Mr. Carrot brings me in,” said Here’n’now.
    “Protective custody, sarge,” said Carrot.
    “ Again? ” Colon unhooked the cell keys from their nail over the desk and tossed them to the thief. “All right. Cell Three. Take the keys in with you, we’ll holler if we need ’em back.”
    “You’re a toff, Mr. Colon,” said Here’n’now, wandering down the steps to the cells.
    Colon shook his head.
    “Worst thief in the world,” he said.
    “He doesn’t look that good,” said Angua.
    “No, I mean the worst ,” said Colon. “As in ‘not good at it.’”
    “Remember when he was going to go all the way up to Dunmanifestin to steal the Secret of Fire from the gods?” said Nobby.
    “And I said ‘but we’ve got it, Here’n’now, we’ve had it for thousands of years,’” said Carrot. “And he said, ‘that’s right, so it has antique value.’” *
    “Poor old chap,” said Sergeant Colon. “OK. What else have we got…yes, Carrot?”
    “Now, they’ve got to take the King’s Shilling,” said Carrot.
    “Right. Yes. OK.” Colon fished in his pocket, and took out three sequin-sized Ankh-Morpork dollars, which had about the gold content of seawater. He tossed them one at a time to the recruits.
    “This is called the King’s Shilling,” he said,