The Fifth Elephant

right hand, un-regarded, he was still holding his crossbow.
    “Bit of trouble on the road,” he said. “Er…you know how it is.”
    No one moved.
    “Oh, good gods…Detritus, put that damn thing down , will you?”
    “Right, sir.”
    The troll lowered his crossbow. Two dozen people all began to breathe again.
    Then the skinny woman stepped around from behind the bar, nodded at Vimes, carefully took Lady Sybil’s hand from his, and pointed toward the wide wooden stairs. The black look she gave Vimes puzzled him.
    Only then did he realize that Lady Sybil was shaking. Tears were running down her face.
    “And…er…my wife is a bit shaken up,” he said weakly. “Corporal Littlebottom!” he yelled, to cover his confusion.
    Cheery stepped through the doorway.
    “Go with Lady Syb—”
    He stopped because of the rising hubbub. One or two people pointed. Someone laughed. Cheery stopped, looking down.
    “What’s up?” Vimes hissed.
    “Er…It’s me, sir. Ankh-Morpork dwarf fashions haven’t really caught on here, sir,” said Cheery.
    “The skirt?” said Vimes.
    “Yes, sir.”
    Vimes looked around at the faces. They seemed more shocked than angry, although he spotted a couple of dwarfs in one corner who were definitely unhappy.
    “Go with Lady Sybil,” he repeated.
    “It might not be a very good id—” Cheery began.
    “Godsdammit!” shouted Vimes, unable to stop himself. The crowd went silent. A ragged bloodstained madman holding a crossbow can command a rapt audience.
    Then he shuddered. What he wanted now was a bed, but what he wanted, before bed, more than anything, was a drink. And he couldn’t have one. He’d learned that long ago. One drink was one too many.
    “All right, tell me,” he said.
    “All dwarfs are men, sir,” said Cheery. “I mean…traditionally. That’s how everyone thinks of it up here.”
    “Well…stand outside the door, or…or shut your eyes or something, okay?”
    Vimes lifted Lady Sybil’s chin.
    “Are you all right, dear?” he said.
    “Sorry to let you down, Sam,” she whispered. “It was just so awful .”
    Vimes, designed by Nature to be one of those men unable to kiss their own wives in public, patted her helplessly on the shoulder. She thought she’d let him down. It was unbearable.
    “You just…I mean, Cheery will…and I’ll…sort things out and be along right away,” he said. “We’ll get a good bedroom, I suspect.”
    She nodded, still looking down.
    “And…I’m just going out for some fresh air.”
    Vimes stepped outside.
    The snow had stopped for now. The moon was half hidden by clouds, and the air smelled of frost.
    When the figure dropped down from the eaves it was amazed at the way Vimes spun and rushed it bodily against the wall.
    Vimes looked through a red mist at the moonlit face of Inigo Skimmer.
    “I’ll damn well—” he began.
    “Look down, Your Grace,” said Skimmer. “Mhm, mhm.”
    Vimes realized he could feel the faintest prick of the knife blade on his stomach.
    “Look down farther,” he said.
    Inigo looked down. He swallowed. Vimes had a knife, too.
    “You really are no gentleman, then,” he said.
    “Make a sudden move and neither are you,” said Vimes. “And now it appears that we have reached what Sergeant Colon persists in referring to as an imp arse. ”
    “I assure you I will not kill you,” said Inigo.
    “I know that,” said Vimes. “But will you try ?”
    “No. I am here for your protection, mhm, mhm.”
    “Vetinari sent you, did he?”
    “You know we never divulge the name of—”
    “That’s true. You people are very honorable ,” Vimes spat the word, “in that respect.”
    Both men relaxed a little.
    “You left me alone surrounded by enemies,” said Inigo, but without much accusation in his tone.
    “Why should I care what happens to a bunch of bandits?” said Vimes. “You are an Assassin.”
    “How did you find out? Mmm?”
    “A copper watches the way people walk. The Klatchians say a man’s leg is his second face, did you know that? And that little clerky, I’m-so-harmless walk of yours is too good to be true.”
    “You mean that just from my walk you—”
    “No. You didn’t catch the orange,” said Vimes.
    “Come now—”
    “No, people either catch or flinch. You saw it wasn’t a danger. And when I took your arm I felt metal under your clothes. Then I just sent a clacks back with your description.”
    He let go of Inigo and walked over to the coach, leaving his back