The Fifth Elephant

Vimes desperately. “There’s so much to do!”
    “That is exactly why Sybil says you ought to leave the city,” said Vetinari.
    “But there’s the new training school—”
    “Ticking over nicely now, sir,” said Carrot.
    “The whole carrier pigeon network is a complete mess—”
    “More or less sorted out, sir, now that we’ve changed their feed. Besides, the clacks seems to be functioning very well.”
    “We’ve got to get the River Watch set up—”
    “Can’t do much for a week or two, sir, until we’ve dredged up the boat.”
    “The drains at the Chitterling Street station are—”
    “I’ve got the plumbers working on it, sir.”
    Vimes knew that he had lost. He had lost as soon as Sybil was involved, because she was always a reliable siege engine against the walls of his defenses. But there was such a thing as going down fighting.
    “You know I’m no good at diplomatic talk,” he said.
    “On the contrary, Vimes, you appear to have amazed the diplomatic corps here in Ankh-Morpork,” said Lord Vetinari. “They’re not used to plain speech. It confuses them. What was it you said to the Istanzian ambassador last month?” He riffled through the papers on his desk. “Let me see, the complaint is here somewhere…Oh yes, on the matter of military incursions across the Slipnir River, you indicated that further transgressions would involve him, personally, that is to say the ambassador, and I quote ‘going home in an ambulance.’”
    “I’m sorry about that, sir, but it had been a long day and he was really getting on my—”
    “Since when their armed forces have pulled back so far that they are nearly in the next country,” said Lord Vetinari, moving the paper aside. “I have to say that your observation complied only with the general thrust of my view in this matter but was, at least, succinct. Apparently you also looked at the ambassador in a very threatening way.”
    “It was only the way I usually look.”
    “To be sure. Happily, in Uberwald you will only need to look friendly.”
    “Ah, but you don’t want me saying things like ‘how about selling us all your fat really cheap?’ do you?” said Vimes, desperately.
    “You will not be required to do any negotiating, Vimes. That will be dealt with by one of my clerks, who will set up the temporary embassy and discuss such matters with his opposite numbers among the courts of Uberwald. All clerks speak the same language. You will simply be as ducal as you can. And, of course, you will take a retinue. A staff,” Vetinari added, seeing Vimes’s blank look. He sighed. “People to go with you. I suggest Sergeant Angua, Sergeant Detritus and Corporal Littlebottom.”
    “Ah,” said Carrot, nodding encouragingly.
    “Sorry?” said Vimes. “I think there must have been a whole piece of conversation just then that I must have missed.”
    “A werewolf, a troll and a dwarf,” said Carrot. “Ethnic minorities, sir.”
    “…but, in Uberwald, they are ethnic majorities ,” said Lord Vetinari. “All three officers come from there originally, I believe. Their presence will speak volumes.”
    “So far it hasn’t sent me a postcard,” said Vimes. “I’d rather take—”
    “Sir, it will show people in Uberwald that Ankh-Morpork is a multicultural society, you see?” said Carrot.
    “Oh, I see. ‘People like us.’ People you can do business with,” said Vimes, glumly.
    “Sometimes,” Vetinari said, testily, “it really does seem to me that the culture of cynicism in the Watch is…is…”
    “Insufficient?” said Vimes. There was silence. “All right,” he sighed, “I’d better go off and polish the knobs on my coronet, hadn’t I?”
    “The ducal coronet, if I remember my heraldry, does not have knobs on. It is decidedly…spiky,” said the Patrician, pushing across the desk of small pile of papers topped by a gold-edged invitation card. “Good. I will have a…a clacks sent immediately. You will be more fully briefed later. Do give my regards to the duchess. And now, please do not let me detain you further…”
    “He always says that,” muttered Vimes, as the two men hurried down the stairs. “He knows I don’t like being married to a duchess.”
    “I thought you and Lady Sybil—”
    “Oh, being married to Sybil is fine, fine,” said Vimes hurriedly. “It’s just the duchess bit I don’t like. Where is everyone tonight?”
    “Corporal Littlebottom’s on pigeon duty, Detritus is on night