The Fifth Elephant

stood up, leaning on his knuckles, and shouted, “Oh, I ‘must,’ must I? That’s a nerve and no mistake! ‘Must,’ eh? Most of you lot are lucky anyone even gives you a job! Bunch of zombies and loonies and lawn ornaments and rocks! I’ve had it up to here with you!”
    Shoe leaned back out of range of the spittle.
    “Then I am afraid I must take this up with the Guild of Watchmen, sir,” he said.
    “Guild of Watchmen? Hah! And since when has there been a Guild of Watchmen?”
    “Dunno. What’s the time now?” said Corporal Nobbs, ambling into the room. “Got to be a couple of hours, at least. Morning, Captain.”
    “What are you doing here, Nobby?”
    “That’s Mister Nobbs to you, Captain. And I’m president of the Guild of Watchmen, since you ask.”
    “There’s no such bloody thing!”
    “All legit, Captain. Registered at the Palace and everything. Amazin’ how people rushed to join, too.” He pulled his grubby notebook. “Got a few matters to take up with you, if you have a moment. Well, I say a few—”
    “I’m not putting up with this!” bellowed Colon, his face crimson. “This is high treason! You’re all sacked! You’re all—”
    “We’re all on strike,” said Nobby, calm in the face.
    “You can’t go on strike while I’m sacking you!”
    “Our strike headquarters are in the back room of the Bucket, on Gleam Street,” said Nobby.
    “Here, that’s my boozer! I forbid you to go on strike in my own pub!”
    “We shall be there when you wish to talk terms. Come, brothers. We are now officially in a dispute situation.”
    They marched out.
    “Don’t bother to come back!” Colon shouted after them.

    Bonk wasn’t what Vimes had expected. In fact he’d find it hard to say what he had expected, except that this wasn’t it.
    It occupied a narrow valley with a white-water river winding through it. There were city walls. They were not like those of Ankh-Morpork, which had become at first a barrier to expansion and then a source of masonry for it. These had an inside and an outside.
    There were castles on the hills. There were castles on most hills in these parts. And there were high gates across the road.
    Detritus thumped on the side of the coach. Vimes stuck his head out.
    “Dere’s guys in der road,” said the troll. “Dey got halibuts.”
    Vimes looked out of the windows. There were half a dozen guards, and they did indeed have halberds.
    “What are they after?” he said.
    “I expect they’ll also want to see our papers and make a search of the coaches,” said Inigo.
    “Papers are one thing,” said Vimes, getting out of the coach, “but no one is rummaging in our stuff. I know that trick. They’re not looking for anything, they just want to show us who’s boss. You come along and do the translating.” He added, “Don’t worry, I’ll be diplomatic.”
    The two men barring the way did have helmets and they were holding weapons, but their uniforms did not conform to normal uniformity. No guards, Vimes thought, should be dressed in red, blue and yellow. People would be able to see them coming. Vimes liked a uniform you could lurk in.
    He pulled out his badge and held it up, advancing with an ingratiating smile.
    “Just repeat this, Mister Skimmer,” Vimes raised his voice. “Hello, fellow officer, as you can see I am Commander V—”
    A blade swung around. If Vimes hadn’t stopped, he’d have walked into it.
    Inigo stepped forward, leather case already open, one hand holding several impressive pieces of paper, mouth already framing some suitable sentences. A guard took one of the pieces of paper and stared at it.
    “This is a studied insult,” said Inigo, contriving to speak out of the corner of his mouth while maintaining a smile. “Someone wishes to see how you react, mmm, mhm.”
    “Them?”
    “No. We are being watched.”
    The paper was handed back. There was a terse conversation.
    “The captain of the guard says there are special circumstances and he will search the coaches,” said Inigo.
    “No,” said Vimes, taking in the expression on the captain’s white face. “I know when people are playing silly buggers, ’cos I’ve done it myself.”
    He pointed to the door of his coach.
    “See this?” he said. “Tell him this is an Ankh-Morpork crest. And this is an Ankh-Morpork coach, property of Ankh-Morpork. If they lay hands on it, that will constitute an act of war against Ankh-Morpork. Tell him that.”
    He saw the man lick his