The Fifth Elephant

mothtly up and about again in no time,” he added brightly.
    “Reincarnation on the installment plan, eh?” said Vimes weakly.
    “Motht amuthing, thir,” said the Igor gravely. “But it’th amathing what people need. Heartth, liverth, handth…we keep a litht, thir, of detherving catheth. By tonight there will be thome very lucky people in thethe parth—”
    “And these parts in some very lucky people?”
    “Well done, thur. I can thee you are a wit. And I’m sure one day thome poor thoul will have a really nathty brain injury, and,” he tapped the chilly box again, “what goeth around, cometh around.”
    He nodded at Cheery, and at Vimes.
    He limped off, but suddenly a very similar voice was behind Vimes. Another Igor came out of the kitchens, carrying a dusty black suit on a hanger and, in his other hand, a pair of boots.
    “A bit worn, but I darethay some poor thoul will be grateful,” he said. “Thorry we’re all ruthing off, thir. Tho much to do, you know how it ith.”
    “I can imagine,” said Vimes, and unfortunately he could. But, then, he thought: The ax of my grandfather, the king called it. You change things around, you replace every bit, but the ax survives. There will always be an Igor.
    “They’re really rather selfless people, sir,” said Cheery, when the last Igor had lurched off. “They do a lot of good work for people.”
    “I know, I know. But—”
    “Yes, sir. I know what you mean, sir. Everyone’s in the drawing room. Lady Sybil said you’d be back. She said anyone with that look in their eye comes back.”
    “We’re all going to the coronation. Might as well see this through. Is that what you’ll be wearing, Cheery?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “But it’s just…ordinary dwarf clothes. Trousers and everything.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “But Sybil said you’d got a fetching little green number and a helmet with a feather in it.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “You’re free to wear whatever you want, you know that.”
    “Yes, sir. And then I thought about Dee. And I watched the king when he was talking to you, and…well, I can wear what I like, sir. That’s the point. I don’t have to wear that dress. I can wear what I like. I don’t have to wear something just because other people don’t want me to. Anyway, it made me look a rather stupid lettuce.”
    “That’s all a bit complicated for me, Cheery.”
    “It’s probably a dwarf thing, sir.”
    “And a female thing,” said Vimes.
    “Well, sir…yes. A dwarf thing and a female thing,” said Cheery. “And they don’t come much more complicated than that.”
    Vimes pushed open the doors to the drawing room.
    “It’s over,” he said, as they turned to look at him.
    “Did you hurt anyone else?” said Sybil.
    “Only Wolfgang.”
    “He’ll be back,” said Angua, flatly.
    “No.”
    “You killed him?”
    “No. I put him down. I see you’re up, Captain.”
    Carrot got to his feet, awkwardly, and saluted.
    “Sorry I haven’t been much use, sir.”
    “You just chose the wrong time to fight fair. Are you well enough to come?”
    “Er…Angua and I want to stay here, if it’s all right with you, sir. We’ve got things to talk about.” Carrot looked down. “And…er…do,” he added.

    It was the first coronation Vimes had attended. He’d expected it to be…stranger, touched somehow by glory.
    Instead it was dull, but at least it was big dull, dullness distilled and honed and cultivated over thousands of years until it had developed an impressive shine, as even grime will if you polish it long enough. It was dullness hammered into the shape and form of ceremony.
    It had also been timed to test the capacity of the average bladder.
    A number of dwarfs read passages from ancient scrolls. There were what sounded like excerpts from the Koboldean Saga, and Vimes wondered desperately if they were in for another opera, but these were over after a mere hour. There were more readings by different dwarfs. At one point the king, who had been standing alone in the center of a circle of candlelight, was presented with a leather bag, a small mining ax, and a ruby. Vimes didn’t catch the meaning of any of this, but by the sounds behind him it was clear that each item was of huge and satisfying significance to the thousands who were standing behind him. Thousands? No, there must be tens of thousands, he thought. The bowl of the cavern was full of tier upon tier of dwarfs. Maybe a hundred thousand…
    …and he was in the