Night Watch

pints.”
    “Let them in, then.”
    “Er…” said Colon.
    “Yes, Fred?”
    “Some of ’em is watchmen. A few of the lads from Dimwell and a lot from Kingsway. I know most of ’em, and those I don’t are known to the ones I do, if you catch my meanin’.”
    “How many?”
    “About twenty. One of ’em’s Dai Dickins, sergeant at Dimwell. He says they were told they’d got to shoot people and most of ’em deserted on the spot.”
    “Quit, Fred,” said Vimes. “We don’t desert. We’re civilians. Now, I want young Vimes and you and Waddy and maybe half a dozen others out here, fully kitted up, in two minutes, understand? And tell Wiglet to organize squads ready to move the barricades forward at my signal.”
    “ Move them, Sarge? I thought barricades stood still!”
    “And tell Snouty he’s got two minutes to find me a bottle of brandy,” said Vimes, ignoring this. “A big one.”
    “Are we taking the law into our own hands again, Sarge?”
    Vimes stared at the entrance to Cable Street, and was aware of the weight of the cigar case in his pocket.
    “Yes, Fred,” he said. “Only this time we’re going to squeeze.”

    The two guards at the Unmentionables’ headquarters watched with interest as the small contingent of watchmen marched up the street and came to a halt in front of them.
    “Oo, look, it’s the army,” said one of them. “What do you want?”
    “Nothing, sir,” said Corporal Colon.
    “Then you can push off!”
    “Can’t do that, sir. I’m under orders.”
    The guards stepped forward. Fred Colon was sweating, and they liked to see things like that. It was a dull job, and most of the Unmentionables were out, on more interesting assignments. They entirely failed to hear the soft tread behind them.
    “Orders to do what, mister,” said one of them, looming over Colon.
    There was a sigh and a soft thud behind him.
    “Be a decoy?” quavered Colon.
    The remaining guard turned and met a Mrs. Goodbody No. 5 “Negotiator” coming the other way.
    As the man slipped to the ground, Vimes winced and massaged his knuckles.
    “Important lesson, ladies,” he said. “It hurts, no matter what you do. You two, drag these into the shadows to sleep it off. Vimes and Nancyball, you come with me.”
    The key to winning, as always, was looking as if you had every right, nay, duty to be where you were. It helped if you could also suggest in every line of your body that no one else had any rights to be doing anything, anywhere, whatsoever. It came easily to an old copper.
    Vimes led the way into the building. There were a couple of guards inside, heavily armed, behind a stone barrier that made them ideally placed to ambush any unwise intruders. They put their hands on the hilts of their swords when they saw Vimes.
    “What’s happening out there?” said one.
    “Oh, people are getting restless,” said Vimes. “Getting very bad across the river, they say. That’s why we’ve come for the prisoners in the cells.”
    “Yeah? On whose authority?”
    Vimes swung his crossbow up.
    “Mr. Burleigh and Mr. Stronginthearm,” he said and grinned.
    The two guards exchanged glances. “Who the hell are they?” said one.
    There was a moment of silence followed by Vimes’s saying, out of the corner of his mouth: “Lance Constable Vimes?”
    “Yessir?”
    “What make are these crossbows?”
    “Er…Hines Brothers, sir. They’re Mark Threes.”
    “Not Burleigh and Stronginthearm?”
    “Never heard of them, sir.”
    Damn. Five years too early, thought Vimes. And it was such a good line, too.
    “Let me put it another way,” he said to the guards. “Give me any trouble and I will shoot you in the head.” It wasn’t a good line, but it did have a certain urgency and the bonus that it was simple enough even for an Unmentionable to understand.
    “You’ve only got one arrow,” said a guard.
    There was a click from beside Vimes. Sam had raised his bow, too.
    “There’s two now, and since my lad here is in training, he might hit you anywhere, ” said Vimes. “Drop your swords on the floor! Get out of the door! Run away! Do it now! Don’t come back!”
    There was a moment of hesitation, just a moment, and then the men ran for it.
    “Fred will watch our backs,” said Vimes. “Come on…”
    All the Watch Houses were pretty much the same. Stone steps led down to the cellars. Vimes hurried down them, swung open a heavy door—
    And stopped.
    Cells never smelled all that good at the