The Fifth Elephant

strange sidle of those whose hatred could just manage to overcome their fear. And at any moment that balance in one of them was going to tip all the way, and then it would be all over.
    There was a leap, and it was Carrot who made it. He grabbed the lead wolf by its neck and tail and held on as it struggled and snapped. Its frantic efforts to escape resulted only in it running in a circle with Carrot in the middle, the other wolves back away from the whirl of gray. Then, as it stumbled, he bit it on the back of the neck. It screamed.
    Carrot let go, and stood up. He looked at the circle of wolves. They shied away from his gaze.
    “Hmmm?” he said.
    The wolf on the ground whined, and got to its feet awkwardly.
    “Hmmm?”
    It tucked its tail between its legs and backed off, but it still seemed to be attached to Carrot by an invisible lead.
    “Angua?” said Carrot, still watching it carefully.
    “Yes?”
    “Can you speak wolf? I mean, in this shape?”
    “A bit. Look, how did you know what to do?”
    “Oh, I’ve watched animals,” said Carrot, as if that was an explanation. “Please tell them…tell them if they go away now, I won’t harm them.”
    She managed to bark out the words. It had all changed, in such a tiny handful of seconds. Now Carrot wrote the script.
    “And now tell them that although I’m going away, I may be back. What’s the name of this one?” He nodded at the cowering wolf.
    “That’s Eats Wrong Meat,” Angua whispered. “He was…he’s the leader now that Gavin’s gone.”
    “Then tell them that I’m quite happy that he should go on leading. Tell them all that.”
    They watched her intently. She knew what they were thinking. He’d beaten the leader. It was all Sorted Out. Wolves did not have a lot of mental space for uncertainty. Doubt was a luxury for species that did not live one meal away from starvation. They still had a Gavin-shaped hole in their minds and Carrot had stepped into it. Of course, it wouldn’t last long. But it didn’t need to.
    He always, always finds a way in, she thought. He doesn’t think about it, he doesn’t plot, he simply slides in. I saved him because he couldn’t save himself, and Gavin saved him because…because…because he had some reason…and I’m almost, almost certain that Carrot doesn’t know how he manages to wrap the world around him. Almost certain. He’s good and kind and born to be a king of the ancient sort that wore oak leaves and ruled from a seat under a tree, and though he tries hard he never has a cynical thought.
    I’m almost certain.
    “Let’s go now,” said Carrot. “The coronation will be over soon, and I don’t want Mister Vimes to worry.”
    “Carrot! I’ve got to know something…”
    “Yes?”
    “ That might happen to me. Have you ever thought about that? He was my brother, after all. Being two things at the same time, and never quite being one…we’re not the most stable of creatures…”
    “Gold and muck come out of the same shaft,” said Carrot.
    “That’s just a dwarf saying!”
    “It’s true, though. You’re not him.”
    “Well…if it happened…if it did…would you do what Vimes did? Carrot? Would it be you who picked up a weapon and came after me? I know you won’t lie. I’ve got to know. Would it be you ?”
    A little snow slid down from the trees. The wolves watched. Carrot looked up for a moment, at the gray sky, and then nodded.
    “Yes.”
    She sighed.
    “Promise?” she said.

    Vimes was surprised at how quickly the coronation became a working day. There was a flourish of echoing horns, a general flow of the crowd and, gradually, a queue in front of the king.
    “They haven’t even given him time to get comfy!” said Lady Sybil, as they headed toward the exit.
    “Our kings are…working kings,” said Cheery, and Vimes detected a dash of pride in her voice. “But now is the time when the king awards favors.”
    A dwarf caught up with Vimes and tugged his cloak respectfully.
    “The king wishes to see you now, Your Excellency,” he said.
    “There’s an almighty queue!”
    “Nevertheless,” the dwarf gave a polite cough, “the king wishes to see you now. All of you.”
    They were led to the front of the queue. Vimes felt many eyes boring into the small of his back.
    The king dismissed the previous supplicant with a regal nod as the Ankh-Morpork party was deftly inserted at the top of the line, supplanting a dwarf whose beard went down to his knees.
    He looked at