Men at Arms

a fight, Skully?”
    Skully looked up at Detritus, and whimpered.
    “The buggers attacked the Watch House!”
    “Who?”
    “Them!”
    Carrot patted him on the shoulder.
    “This isn’t a troll,” he said. “This is Lance-Constable Detritus— don’t salute . Trolls attacked the Day Watch?”
    “They’re chucking cobbles!”
    “You can’t trust ’em,” said Detritus.
    “Who?” said Skully.
    “Trolls. Nasty pieces of work in my opinion,” said Detritus, with all the conviction of a troll with a badge. “They need keeping a eye on.”
    “What’s happened to Quirke?” said Carrot.
    “I don’t know! You lot have got to do something !”
    “We’re stood down,” said Colon. “Official.”
    “Don’t give me that!”
    “Ah,” said Carrot, brightly. He pulled a stub of pencil out of his pocket and made a little tick in his black book. “You still got that little house in Easy Street, Sergeant Muldoon?”
    “What? What? Yes! What about it?”
    “Is the rent worth more than a farthing a month?”
    Muldoon stared at him with his one operating eye.
    “Are you simple or what?”
    Carrot gave him a big smile. “That’s right, Sergeant Muldoon. Is it, though? Worth a farthing, would you say?”
    “There’s dwarfs running around the streets looking for a fight and you want to know about property prices?”
    “A farthing?”
    “Don’t be daft! It’s worth at least five dollars a month!”
    “Ah,” said Carrot, ticking the book again. “That’d be inflation, of course. And I expect you’ve got a cooking pot…do you own at least two-and-one-third acres and more than half a cow?”
    “All right, all right,” said Muldoon. “It’s some kind of joke, right?”
    “I think probably the property qualification can be waived,” said Carrot. “It says here that it can be waived for a citizen in good standing. Finally, has there been, in your opinion, an irreparable breakdown of law and order in the city?”
    “They turned over Throat Dibbler’s barrow and made him eat two of his sausages-inna-bun!”
    “Oh, I say!” said Colon.
    “Without mustard!”
    “I think we can call that a Yes,” said Carrot. He ticked the page again, and closed the book with a definite snap.
    “We’d better be going,” he said.
    “We were told—” Colon began.
    “According to the Laws and Ordinances of Ankh-Morpork,” said Carrot, “ any residents of the city, in times of the irreparable breakdown of law and order, shall, at the request of an officer of the city who is a citizen in good standing—there’s a lot of stuff here about property and stuff, and then it goes on—form themselves into a militia for city defense.”
    “What does that mean?” said Angua.
    “Militia…” mused Sergeant Colon.
    “Hang on, you can’t do that!” said Muldoon. “That’s nonsense!”
    “It’s the law. Never been repealed,” said Carrot.
    “We’ve never had a militia! Never needed one!”
    “Until now, I think.”
    “Now look here,” said Muldoon, “you come back with me to the Palace. You’re men of the Watch—”
    “And we’re going to defend the city,” said Carrot.

    People were streaming past the Watch House. Carrot stopped a couple by the simple expedient of sticking out his hand.
    “Mr. Poppley, isn’t it?” he said. “How’s the grocery business? Hello, Mrs. Poppley.”
    “Ain’t you heard?” said the flustered man. “The trolls have set fire to the Palace!”
    He followed Carrot’s gaze up Broad Way, to where the Palace stood squat and dark in the early evening light. Ungovernable flames failed to billow from every window.
    “My word,” said Carrot.
    “And there’s dwarfs breaking windows and everything!” said the grocer. “A dog’s not safe!”
    “You can’t trust ’em,” said Cuddy.
    The grocer stared at him. “Are you a dwarf?” he said.
    “Amazing! How do people do it,” said Cuddy.
    “Well, I’m off! I’m not stopping to see Mrs. Poppley ravished by the little devils! You know what they say about dwarfs!”
    The Watch watched the couple head off into the crowd again.
    “Well, I don’t,” said Cuddy, to no one in particular. “What is it they say about dwarfs?”
    Carrot fielded a man pushing a barrow.
    “Would you mind telling me what’s going on, sir?” he said.
    “And do you know what it is they say about dwarfs?” said a voice behind him.
    “That’s not a sir, that’s Throat,” said Colon. “And will you look at the color of