Snuff
âLook,â he said, âyou really donât want to fight me.â
âI do, indeed I do! You said it yourself. Some ancestor got all of this by fighting for it, yeah? Who said itâs the time to stop fighting?â
âBurleigh and Stronginthearm, sir,â said a polite yet chilly voice behind the big man. To Vimesâs shock it was Willikins. âIâm not cruel, sir, I wonât shoot you in the guts, but I will make you realize how much you took your toes for granted. No, please do not make any sudden movements. Burleigh and Stronginthearm crossbows have notoriously responsive triggers.â
Vimes resumed breathing again when Jethro raised his hands. Somewhere in all that rage there must have been a halfpennyworth of self-preservation. Nevertheless the blacksmith glared at him and said, âYou need to be protected by a hired killer, do you?â
âIn point of fact, sir,â said Willikins smoothly, âI am employed by Commander Vimes as a gentlemanâs gentleman, and I require this crossbow because sometimes his socks fight back.â He looked at Vimes. âDo you have any instructions, commander? and then he shouted, âDonât move, mister, because as far as I know a blacksmith needs two hands to work with.â He turned back to Vimes. âDo excuse that interjection, commander, but I know his sort.â
âWillikins, I rather think you are his sort.â
âYes, sir, thank you, sir, and I wouldnât trust me one little inch, sir. I knows a bad one when I sees them. I have a mirror.â
âNow, I want you to put that bloody thing down, Willikins. People could get hurt!â Vimes said in his formal voice.
âYes, sir, that would have been my intention. I could not face her ladyship if anything had happened to you.â
Vimes looked from Willikins to Jethro. Here was a boil that needed lancing. But you couldnât blame the lad. It wasnât as if he hadnât thought the same way himself, many times. âWillikins,â he said, âplease put that wretched thing down carefully and get out your notebook. Thank you . Now please write down as follows: âI, Samuel Vimes, somewhat reluctantly the Duke of Ankh, do intend to Duke it out, haha, with my friend Jethroâ¦Whatâs your full name again, Jethro?â
âNow look here, mister, I didnâtââ
âI asked you your damn name, mister! Jiminy, whatâs his surname?â
âJefferson,â said the landlord, holding his truncheon like a security blanket. âBut look, your grace, you donât want to goâ¦â
Vimes ignored him and went on, âNow where was I? Oh, yes: âmy friend Jethro Jefferson, in a friendly fight for the ownership of the Manor and environs, whatever the hell they are, which will go to the which of us that does not first cry âuncle,â and should it be myself that utters the same, there will be no repercussions of any sort upon my friend Jethro, or on my man Willikins, who pleaded with me not to engage in this friendly bout of fisticuffs.â Got that, Willikins? Iâll even give you a get-out-of-jail-free card to show to her ladyship if I get bruised. Now give it to me to sign.â
Willikins handed over the notebook with reluctance. âI donât think itâll work on her ladyship, sir. Look, dukes arenât expected to go aroundââ His voice faltered in the face of Vimesâs smile.
âYou were going to say that dukes shouldnât fight, werenât you, Willikins? And if you had, I would have said that the word âdukeâ absolutely means that you do fight.â
âOh, very well, sir,â said Willikins, âbut perhaps you ought to warn himâ¦?â
Willikins was interrupted by the pubâs customers pushing their way out at speed and running through the village, leaving Jethro standing alone and bewildered. Halfway toward the man, Vimes turned to look back at Willikins and said, âYou may think you see me lighting a cigar, Willikins, but on this occasion, I think, your eyes may turn out to be at fault, do you understand?â
âYes, and in fact I am deaf as well, commander.â
âGood lad. Now letâs get outside where thereâs less glass and a better view.â
Jethro looked like a man who had had the ground cut from under his feet but didnât know how to fall down.
Vimes lit his cigar
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