Thud!

as the troll lumbered forward, club raised again to make Vimes at one with the bedrock.
    Brick became aware that he was being attacked. He stopped what he was doing and, with sparks going fwizzle! in his brain, looked down his right knee. Some little gnome or somethin’ was attacking him wi’ a blunt sword and kickin’ an’ screamin’ like a mad t’ing. He put it down to the drink, like der feelin’ that his ears were givin’ off flames, an’ brushed der fing away with a flip of his hand.
    Vimes, helpless, saw A. E. Pessimal tumble across the plaza, and watched the troll turn back to the clubbing at hand. But Detritus, arriving behind it now, pulled it around with one shovelsized hand and here came the Detritus fist, like the wrath of gods.
    For Brick, everything went dar—

“Y ou wish me to believe,” said Lord Vetinari, “that Mr. A. E. Pessimal single-handedly attacked a troll?”
    “Both hands, sir,” said Vimes. “And feet, too. And tried to bite it, we think.”
    “Isn’t that certain death?” said Vetinari.
    “That didn’t seem to worry him, sir.”
    Vimes had last seen A. E. Pessimal being bandaged by Igor and smiling in a semiconscious way. Watchmen were dropping in all the time to say things like “Hi, big man!” and slap him on the back. The world had turned for A. E. Pessimal.
    “Might I inquire, Vimes, why one of my most conscientious and most decidedly civilian clerks was in a position to do this?”
    Vimes shifted uncomfortably. “He was inspecting. Learning all about us, sir.”
    He gave Vetinari a look that said: If you take this any further, I will have to lie.
    Vetinari returned one that said: I know.
    “You yourself are not too badly injured?” the Patrician said aloud.
    “Just a few scratches, sir,” said Vimes.
    Vetinari gave him a look that said: Broken ribs, I’m certain of it.
    Vimes returned one that said: Nothing.
    Vetinari wandered over to the window and stared down at the waking city. He didn’t speak for some time, and then let out a sigh.
    “Such a shame, I think, that so many of them were born here,” he said.
    Vimes stuck with saying nothing. It generally sufficed.
    “Perhaps I should have taken action against that wretched dwarf,” Vetinari went on.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “You think so? A wise ruler thinks twice before directing violence against someone because he does not approve of what they say.”
    Once again, Vimes did not comment. He himself directed violence daily and with a certain amount of enthusiasm against people, because he didn’t approve of them saying things like “Give me all your money” or “What are you going to do about it, copper?” But perhaps rulers had to think differently. Instead, he said: “Someone else didn’t, sir.”
    “Thank you for that, Vimes,” said the Patrician, turning around sharply. “And have you found out who they are yet?”
    “Investigations are continuing, sir. Last night’s affair got in the way.”
    “Is there any evidence that it was a troll?”
    “There is…puzzling evidence, sir. We are…assembling a jigsaw, you might say.” Except that we haven’t got any of the edges and it’d help if we had the lid of the box, he added to himself. And, because Vetinari’s face bore a hungry look, Vimes continued aloud: “If you’re expecting me to pull a magic rabbit out of my helmet, sir, it’ll be a cooked one. The dwarfs are certain it was a troll. There’s a thousand years of history telling them. They don’t need proof. And the trolls don’t think it was a troll but probably wish it was. This isn’t about a murder, sir. Something inside ’em’s gone click, and it’s time for all good men—well, you know what I mean—to fight Koom Valley all over again. Something else is going on in that mine, I know it. Something bigger than murder. All those tunnels…what are they for? All those lies…I can smell lies, and the place is full of them.”
    “Much hangs on this, Vimes,” said Vetinari. “It’s bigger than you know. I have this morning had a clacks from the Rhys Rhysson, the Low King. All politicians have their enemies, of course. There are, shall we say, factions that disagree with him, his policy toward us, his conciliatory approaches to the troll clans, his stance on the whole wretched Ha’ak thing…And now there are stories about a troll killing a grag and, yes, rumors that the Watch has threatened the dwarfs…”
    Vetinari held up a pale hand as Vimes opened his mouth