Men at Arms

probably have given in. Of course, there was a bit of a gap between probably and certainly .
    Nobby was down the end of the row, occasionally squeaking with delight as he found an interesting war hammer or an especially evil-looking glaive. He was trying to hold everything, all at once.
    Then he dropped the lot and ran forward.
    “Oh, wow! A Klatchian fire engine! This is more my meteor!”
    They heard him rummaging around in the gloom. He emerged pushing a sort of bin on small squeaky wheels. It had various handles and fat leathery bags, and a nozzle at the front. It looked like a very large kettle.
    “The leather’s been kept greased, too!”
    “What is it?” said Carrot.
    “ And there’s oil in the reservoir!” Nobby pumped a handle energetically. “Last I heard, this thing had been banned in eight countries and three religions said they’d excommunicate any soldiers found using it! * Anyone got a light?”
    “Here,” said Carrot, “but what’s—”
    “Watch!”
    Nobby lit a match, applied it to the tube at the front of the device, and pulled a lever.
    They put out the flames eventually.
    “Needs a bit of adjustment,” said Nobby, through his mask of soot.
    “No,” said Carrot. For the rest of his life he’d remember the jet of fire scorching his face en route to the opposite wall.
    “But it’s—”
    “No. It’s too dangerous.”
    “It’s meant to be—”
    “I mean it could hurt people.”
    “Ah,” said Nobby, “right. You should have said. We’re after weapons that don’t hurt people, right?”
    “Corporal Nobbs?” said Sergeant Colon, who’d been even closer to the flame than Carrot.
    “Yes, sarge?”
    “You heard Corporal Carrot. No heathen weapons. Anyway, how come you know so much about all this stuff?”
    “Milit’ry service.”
    “Really, Nobby?” said Carrot.
    “Had a special job, sir. Very responsible.”
    “And what was that?”
    “Quartermaster, sir,” said Nobby, saluting smartly.
    “ You were a quartermaster?” said Carrot. “In whose army?”
    “Duke of Pseudopolis, sir.”
    “But Pseudopolis always lost its wars!”
    “Ah…well…”
    “Who did you sell the weapons to?”
    “That’s a slander, that is! They just used to spend a lot of time away for polishing and sharpening.”
    “Nobby, this is Carrot talking to you. How much time, approximately?”
    “Approximately? Oh. About a hundred percent, if we’re talking approximately , sir.”
    “Nobby?”
    “Sir?”
    “You don’t have to call me sir.”
    “Yessir.”
    In the end, Cuddy remained faithful to his axe, but added a couple more as an afterthought; Sergeant Colon chose a pike because the thing about a pike, the important thing, was that everything happened at the other end of it, i.e., a long way off; Lance-Constable Angua selected, without much enthusiasm, a short sword, and Corporal Nobbs—
    —Corporal Nobbs was a kind of mechanical porcupine of blades, bows, points and knobbly things on the end of chains.
    “You sure, Nobby?” said Carrot. “There’s nothing you want to leave?”
    “It’s so hard to choose, sir.”
    Detritus was hanging on to his huge bow.
    “That all you’re taking, Detritus?”
    “No sir! Taking Flint and Morraine, sir!”
    The two trolls who had been working in the armory had formed up behind Detritus.
    “Swore ’em in, sir,” said Detritus. “Used troll oath.”
    Flint saluted amateurishly.
    “He said he’d kick our goohuloog heads in if we didn’t join up and do what we’re told, sir,” he said.
    “Very old troll oath,” said Detritus. “Very famous, very traditional.”
    “One of ’em could carry the Klatchian fire engine—” Nobby began hopefully.
    “ No , Nobby. Well…welcome to the Watch, men.”
    “Corporal Carrot?”
    “Yes, Cuddy?”
    “It’s not fair. They’re trolls.”
    “We need every man we can get, Cuddy.”
    Carrot stood back. “Now, we don’t want people to think we’re looking for trouble,” he said.
    “Oh, dressed like this, sir, we won’t have to look for trouble,” said Sergeant Colon despondently.
    “Question, sir ?” said Angua.
    “Yes, Lance-Constable Angua?”
    “Who’s the enemy?”
    “Looking like this, we won’t have any problem finding enemies,” said Sergeant Colon.
    “We’re not looking for enemies, we’re looking for information,” said Carrot. “The best weapon we can use right now is the truth, and to start with, we’re going to the Fools’ Guild to find out why