Snuff

hundreds of goblins, Gastric.”
    â€œPay them no mind, sir. Goblins is just goblins.”
    For a moment Vimes stared into the darkness, and the darkness within the darkness, and it said to him, “You’re having fun, aren’t you, commander! This is Sam Vimes being Sam Vimes in the dark and the rain and the danger and because you’re a copper you’re not going to believe that Stratford is dead until you see the corpse. You know it. Some people take a devil of a lot of killing. You know you saw him go out of the cabin, but there’s all kinds of ropes and handholds on the boat, and the bugger was wiry and limber, and you know, just as day follows night, that he’ll be back. Double jeopardy, Commander Vimes, all the pieces on the board, goblins to save, a murderer to catch—and all the time, when you remember, there is a wife and a little boy waiting for you to come back.”
    â€œI always remember!”
    â€œOf course you do, Commander Vimes,” the voice continued, “of course you do. But I know you, and sometimes a shadow passes every sun. Nevertheless, the darkness will always be yours, my tenacious friend.”
    And then reality either came back or went away and Vimes was saying, “We bring the goblins aboard, Gastric, because they…Yes, they are evidence in an important police investigation!”
    There was a further surge, and this time Vimes landed up on the deck, which was a little bit softer now because of the ragged carpet of leaves and branches. As he got up Mr. Sillitoe said, “Police investigation, you say? Well, the Fanny has always been a friend of the law but, well, sir, they stink like the pits of hell, and that’s the truth of it! They’ll frighten the oxen something terrible!”
    â€œDo you think they aren’t frightened already?” said Vimes. “Er, small logjam ahead on the right. All clear on the left.” Vimes sniffed. “Trust me, sir, by the smell of it they’re pretty nervous as it is. Can’t you just stop and tie us up to the bank?”
    Sillitoe’s laugh was brittle. “Sir, there are no banks now, none that I’d try to get to. I know this river and it’s angry and there’s a damn slam coming. Can’t stop it any more than I could stop the storm. You signed up for the long haul, commander: either we race the river or we fold our hands, pray to the gods and die right now.” He saluted. “Nevertheless, I can see you’re a man, sir, who does what he sees needs doing, and, by hokey, I can’t argue with that! You’ve done a man’s job as it is, Commander Vimes, and may the gods go with you. May they go with all of us.”
    Vimes ran down the steps and grabbed Feeney in passing as he danced over the heaving floor to the cowshed. “Come on, lad, it’s time to ditch the barges. There’s too much of a drag. Mr. Ten Gallons? Let’s get those doors open, shall we? Mr. Sillitoe has put me in charge down here. If you want to argue, feel free!”
    The huge man didn’t even attempt an argument, and punched the doors open.
    Vimes swore. Mr. Sillitoe had been right. There was roaring not far behind them and a river of lightning and blue fire was sweeping down the valley like a tide. For a moment he was hypnotized, and then got a grip. “Okay, Feeney, you start getting the goblins on board and I’ll fetch our chicken farmer! The bloody iron ore can sink for all I care.”
    In the glaring light of the damn slam Vimes jumped twice to land on the barge from which was already coming the squawking of terrified birds. Water poured off him as he dragged open the hatch and shouted, “Mr. False! No, don’t start grabbing the chickens! Better off farmer with no chickens than a load of chickens with no farmer! Anyway, they’ll probably float, or fly, or something!”
    He coaxed the frightened man on to the next barge to find that it was still full of bewildered goblins. Feeney was looking out from the open door at the rear of the Fanny , and above the roar and hissing Vimes heard him shout, “It’s Mr. Ten Gallons, sir! He says no goblins!”
    Vimes glanced behind them, and then turned back to Feeney. “Very well, Mr. Feeney, keep an eye on the goblins’ barge while I discuss matters with Mr. Ten Gallons, understand?”
    He flung Mr. False on to the deck of the Fanny and looked around for Ten Gallons.