The Fifth Elephant

tunnel. Several guards, with candles on their helmets, stood at each one.
    The well-honed copper’s radar was beeping at him continuously. Something bad was going on. He could smell the tension, the sense of quiet panic. The air was thick with it. Occasionally other dwarfs scuttled past, distracted, on some mission. Something very bad. People didn’t know what to do next, so they were trying to do everything. And, in the middle of this, important officials had to stop what they were doing because some idiot from some distant city had to hand over a piece of paper.
    Eventually a door opened in the darkness. It led into a large, roughly oblong cave that, with its book-lined walls and paper strewn tables, had the look of an office about it.
    “Do be seated, Commander.”
    A match burst into life. One candle was lit, all lost and alone in the dark.
    “We try to make guests feel welcome,” said Dee, scuttling behind his desk. He pulled off his pointed hat and, to Vimes’s amazement, put on a pair of thick smoked glasses.
    “You had papers?” he said. Vimes handed them over.
    “It says here ‘His Grace,’” the dwarf said, after reading them for a while.
    “Yes, that’s me.”
    “And there’s a sir.”
    “That’s me, too.”
    “And an Excellency.”
    “’Fraid so.” Vimes narrowed his eyes. “I was blackboard monitor for a while, too.”
    There was the sound of angry voices from behind a door at the far end of the room.
    “What does a blackboard monitor do?” said Dee, raising his voice.
    “What? Er…I had to clean the blackboard after lessons.”
    The dwarf nodded. The voices grew louder, more intense. Dwarfish was such a good language to be annoyed in.
    “Erasing the teachings when they were learned!” said Dee, shouting to be heard.
    “Er…yes!”
    “A task only given to the trustworthy!”
    “Could be, yes!”
    Dee folded up the letter and handed it back, glancing briefly at Cheery.
    “Well, these seem to be in order,” he said. “Would you care for a drink before you go?”
    “Sorry? I thought I had to present myself to your king.” The swearing from the other side of the door was threatening to burn through the woodwork.
    “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” said Dee. “At the moment he should not be bothered with—”
    “—trivial matters?” said Vimes. “I thought it was how the thing ought to be done. I thought dwarfs always did the thing that ought to be done.”
    “At the moment it…would not be advisable,” said Dee, talking very loudly again in an effort to drown out the noise. “I’m sure you understand.”
    “Let’s assume I’m very stupid,” said Vimes.
    “I assure you, Your Excellency, that what I see the king sees, and what I hear the king hears.”
    “That’s certainly true at the moment, isn’t it?”
    Dee drummed his fingers on his desk.
    “Your Excellency, I have spent only long enough in your…city to gain a general insight into your ways, but I might feel you are making fun of me.”
    “May I speak freely?”
    “From what I have heard of you, Your Monitorship, you usually do.”
    “Have you found the Scone of Stone yet?”
    The expression on Dee’s face told Vimes that he had scored. And that, almost certainly, the next thing the dwarf said would be another lie.
    “What a strange and untruthful thing to say! There is no possibility that the Scone could have been stolen! This has been firmly declared! This is not a lie we wish to hear repeated!”
    “You told me I—” Vimes tried. By the sound of it, there was a fight going on behind the door now.
    “The Scone will be seen by all at the coronation! This is not a matter for Ankh-Morpork or anyone else! I protest this intrusion into our private affairs!”
    “I merely—”
    “Nor do we have to show the Scone to any prying troublemaker! It is a sacred trust and well-guarded!”
    Vimes kept quiet. Dee was better than Done It Duncan.
    “Every person leaving the Scone Cave is carefully watched! The Scone cannot be removed! It is perfectly safe!”
    Dee was shouting now.
    “Ah, I understand,” said Vimes quietly.
    “Good!”
    “So…you haven’t found it yet, then.”
    Dee opened his mouth, shut it again, and then slumped back in his seat.
    “I think, Your Grace, that you had better—”
    The door at the other end of the room rolled back. Another dwarf, cone-shaped in his robes, stamped out, stopped, glared around him, went back to the doorway again to shout some afterthoughts to