Thud!

they can use, and that’s why they’re going there. I’ve got to go after them.”
    “Look, Sam, if—” Sybil tried.
    “We can’t afford a war between the trolls and the dwarfs, dear. That business the other night was just a dumb gang fight. A real war in Ankh-Morpork would wreck the place! And somehow it’s all tied up with this!”
    “I agree! I want to come, too!” Sybil screamed.
    “Besides, I’ll be perfectly safe if—what?” Vimes gaped at his wife while his mental gears ripped into reverse. “No, it’s too dangerous!”
    “Sam Vimes, I’ve dreamed of visiting Koom Valley all my life, so don’t you think for one moment you’re gallivanting off to see it and leave me at home!”
    “I don’t gallivant! I’ve never gallivanted. I don’t know how to vant! I don’t even have a galli! But there’s going to be a war there soon!”
    “Then I shall tell them we’re not involved!” said Sybil calmly.
    “That won’t work!”
    “Then it won’t work in Ankh-Morpork, either,” said Sybil, with the air of some player cunningly knocking out four dwarfs in one go. “Sam, you know you’re going to lose this. There’s no point in arguing. Besides, I speak dwarfish. We’ll take Young Sam, too.”
    “No!”
    “So that’s all sorted, then,” said Sybil, apparently struck by sudden deafness. “If you want to catch up with the dwarfs, I suggest we leave as soon as possible.”
    Sir Reynold turned to her with his mouth open.
    “But, Ladeah Sybil, armies are already massing there. It’s no place for a ladeah!”
    Vimes winced. Sybil had made up her mind. This was going to be like watching that dwarf being flamed by dragons, all over again.
    Lady Sybil’s bosom, which she was allowed to have, expanded as she took a deep breath; it seemed to lift her slightly off the ground.
    “Sir Reynold,” she said, with a side order of ice. “In the Year of the Lice, my great-grandmother once cooked, personally , a full dinner for eighteen in a military redoubt that was entirely surrounded by bloodthirsty Klatchians, and she felt able to include sorbet and nuts. My grandmother, in the Year of the Quiet Monkey, defended our embassy in Pseudopolis against a mob, with no assistance but that offered by a gardener, a trained parrot, and a pan of hot cooking fat. My late aunt, when our coach was once held up at bowpoint by two desperate highwaymen, gave them such a talking-to that they actually ran away crying for their mothers, Sir Reynold, their mothers . We are no strangers to danger, Sir Reynold. May I also remind you that quite probably half the dwarfs who fought at Koom Valley were ladies? No one told them to stay at home!”
    So that’s settled, then, thought Vimes. We—damn!
    “Captain?” he said. “Send someone to find that dwarf Grag Bashfullsson, will you? Tell him Commander Vimes presents his compliments and will indeed be leaving first thing in the morning.”
    “Er…right, sir. Will do,” said Carrot.
    How did he know I’d be going? Vimes wondered. I suppose it was inevitable? But he could have hung us out to dry if he’d said we’ve mistreated that dwarf. And he’s one of Mr. Shine’s pupils, I’ll bet on it. Good idea to keep an eye on him, perhaps…

W hen did Lord Vetinari sleep? Presumably, the man must get his head down at some point, Vimes had reasoned. Everyone slept. Catnaps could get you by for a while, but sooner or later you need a solid eight hours, right?
    It was almost midnight, and there was Vetinari at his desk, fresh as a daisy and chilly as morning dew.
    “Are you sure about this, Vimes?”
    “Carrot can look after things. They’ve quietened down, anyway. I think most of the serious troublemakers have headed for Koom Valley.”
    “A good reason, one might say, for you not to go. Vimes, I have…agents for this sort of thing.”
    “But you wanted me to hunt them down, sir!” Vimes protested.
    “In Koom Valley? At this time? Taking a force there now could have far-reaching consequences, Vimes!”
    “Good! You told me to drag them into the light! As far as they’re concerned, I am far-reaching consequences!”
    “Well, certainly,” said Vetinari, after staring at Vimes for longer than was comfortable. “And when you have boldly reached so far, you will need friends. I shall make sure the Low King is at least aware of your presence.”
    “Don’t worry, he’ll find out soon enough,” growled Vimes. “Oh, yes.”
    “I have no doubt he will. He has