Thud! - A Novel Of Discworld Part 14

It was the same book, every day. The pages of said book were rounded and soft where Young Sam had chewed them, but to one person in this nursery this was the book of books, the greatest story ever told. Vimes didn't need to read it anymore. He knew it by heart.

It was called "Where's My Cow?"

The un-identified complainant has lost their cow. That was the story, really.

Page one started promisingly: Where's my cow?Is that my cow?It goes baa!It is a sheep!No, that's not my cow!

Then the author began to get to grips with their material: Where's my cow?Is that my cow?It goes naaaay!It is a horse!No, that's not my cow!

At this point, the author had reached an agony of creation and was writing from the racked depths of their soul.

Where's my cow?Is that my cow?It goes HRUUUGH!It is a hippopotamus!No, that's not my cow!

This was a good evening. Young Sam was already grinning widely and crowing along with the plot.

Eventually, the cow would be found. It was that much of a page-turner. Of course, some suspense was lent by the fact that all other animals were presented in some way that could have confused a kitten who perhaps had been raised in a darkened room. The horse was standing in front of a hat stand, as they so often did, and the hippo was eating at a trough against which was an upturned pitchfork. Seen from the wrong direction, the tableau might look for just one second like a cow...

Young Sam loved it, anyway. It must have been the most cuddled book in the world.

Nevertheless, it bothered Vimes, even though he'd got really good at the noises and would go up against any man in his rendition of the HRUUUGH! But is this a book for a city kid? When would he he ever hear these noises? In the city, the only sound those animals would make was "sizzle." But the nursery was full of the conspiracy, with bah-lambs and teddy bears and fluffy ducklings everywhere he looked. ever hear these noises? In the city, the only sound those animals would make was "sizzle." But the nursery was full of the conspiracy, with bah-lambs and teddy bears and fluffy ducklings everywhere he looked.

One evening, after a trying day, he'd tried the Vimes street version: Where's my daddy?Is that my daddy?He goes "Bugrit! Millennium hand and shrimp!"He is Foul Ol' Ron!No, that's not my daddy!

It had been going really well when Vimes heard a meaningful little cough from the doorway, wherein stood Sybil. Next day, Young Sam, with a child's unerring instinct for this sort of thing, said "Buglit!" to Purity. And that, although Sybil never raised the subject even when they were alone, was that. From then on Sam stuck rigidly to the authorized version.

He recited it tonight, while wind rattled the windows, and this little nursery world, with its pink-and-blue peace, its creatures who were ever so very soft and wooly and fluffy, seemed to enfold them both. On the nursery clock, a little wooly lamb rocked the seconds away.

When he not quite awoke, in twilight, with ragged strands of dark sleep filling his mind, Vimes stared in incomprehension at the room. Panic filled him. What was this place? Why were there all these grinning animals? What was lying on his foot? Who was this doing the asking, and why was he wrapped in a blue shawl with ducks on it?

Blessed recollection flowed in. Young Sam was fast asleep, with Vimes's helmet clutched like a teddy bear, and Dribble, always on the lookout for somewhere warm to slump, had rested his head on Vimes's boot. Already the leather was covered with goo.

Vimes carefully retrieved his helmet, gathered the shawl around him, and wandered down into the big front hall. He could see a light on under the door of the library, and so, still slightly muzzy, he pushed his way in.

Two watchmen stood up. Sybil turned in her chair by the fire. Vimes felt the ducks slither down his shoulders, slowly, and end up in a heap on the floor.

"I let you sleep, Sam," said Lady Sybil. "You didn't get in this morning until after three."

"Everyone's double-s.h.i.+fting, dear," said Sam, daring Carrot and Sally to even think about telling anyone they'd seen the boss wearing a blue shawl covered in ducks. "I've got to set a good example."

"I'm sure you intend to, Sam, but you look look like a horrible warning," said Sybil. "When did you last eat?" like a horrible warning," said Sybil. "When did you last eat?"

"I had a lettuce, tomato, and bacon sandwich, dear," he said, endeavoring by tone of his voice to suggest that the bacon had been a mere condiment rather than a slab barely covered by the bread.

"I expect you jolly well did," said Sybil, rather more accurately conveying the fact that she didn't believe a word of it. "Captain Carrot has something to tell you. Now, you sit down and I'm going to see what's happened to dinner."

When she bustled out in the direction of the kitchens, Vimes turned to the watchmen and debated for a moment whether to give that sheepish little grin and eye-roll that between men means "Women, eh?" and decided not to, on the basis that the watchmen consisted of Lance Constable von Humpeding, who'd think he was a fool, and Captain Carrot, who wouldn't know what it meant.

He settled instead on "Well?"

"We did the best we could, sir," said Carrot. "I was right. That mine is a very unhappy place."

"Murder scenes usually are, yes."

"Actually, I don't think we found the murder scene, sir."

"Didn't you see the body?"

"Yes, sir. I think. Really, sir, you had to be there-"

"I don't think I can don't think I can go through with this," Angua had hissed go through with this," Angua had hissed as she headed along Treacle Street again. as she headed along Treacle Street again.

"What's wrong?" said Carrot. Angua jerked a thumb over her shoulder.

"Her! Vampires and werewolves: not good company!"

"But she's a Black Ribb.o.n.e.r," Carrot protested mildly. "She doesn't-"

"She doesn't have to do do anything! She just is! For one of us, being around a vampire is like the worst bad hair day you can imagine. And believe me, a werewolf knows what a anything! She just is! For one of us, being around a vampire is like the worst bad hair day you can imagine. And believe me, a werewolf knows what a real real bad hair day is!" bad hair day is!"

"Is it the smell?" said Carrot.

"Well, that's not good, but it's more than that. They're so...poised. So perfect. I get near her and I feel...hairy. I can't help it, it goes back thousands of years! It's the image. Vampires are always so...cool, so in control, but werewolves are, well, shambling animals. Underdogs."

"But that's not true. A lot of Black Ribbb.o.n.e.rs are totally neurotic, and you're so sleek and-"

"Not when I'm around vampires! They trigger off something! Look, stop trying to be logical about it, will you? I hate it when you get logical on me. Why didn't Mister Vimes hold out? All right, all right, right, I'm on top of it. But it's hard, that's all." I'm on top of it. But it's hard, that's all."

"I'm sure it's not easy for her, either-" Carrot began.

Angua gave him a Look. But that's him, she thought. He really does does think like that. It's just that he doesn't know when saying something like that is a really bad idea. Not easy for her? When was it ever easy for me? At least think like that. It's just that he doesn't know when saying something like that is a really bad idea. Not easy for her? When was it ever easy for me? At least she she probably doesn't have to stash changes of clothes around the city! Okay, going cold bat can't be nice, but we get cold bat every month. And when do I ever rip out a throat? I hunt chickens! probably doesn't have to stash changes of clothes around the city! Okay, going cold bat can't be nice, but we get cold bat every month. And when do I ever rip out a throat? I hunt chickens! And And I pay for them in advance. Does she suffer from PLT? I don't think so! Oh G.o.ds, and it's already well past Waxing Gibbous tonight. I can I pay for them in advance. Does she suffer from PLT? I don't think so! Oh G.o.ds, and it's already well past Waxing Gibbous tonight. I can feel feel my hair growing! b.l.o.o.d.y vampires! They make such a big thing about not being murderous bloodsuckers anymore. They get all the sympathy! my hair growing! b.l.o.o.d.y vampires! They make such a big thing about not being murderous bloodsuckers anymore. They get all the sympathy!

Even his!

All this flashed past in a second. She said: "Let's just get down there and get it done and get out, shall we?"

There was still a crowd hanging around near the entrance. Among them was Otto Chriek, who gave Carrot a little shrug.

There were still guards on duty, too, but it was clear that someone had been talking to them. They nodded to the squad when they arrived. One of them even opened the door, very politely.

Carrot beckoned the other watchmen closer.

"Everything we say will be overheard, understand?" he said. "Everything. So be careful. And remember-as far as they are concerned, you can't see in the dark."

He led the way inside, to where Helmclever stood, beaming and edgy.

"Welcome, Head Banger," said the dwarf.

"Er, if we are using Morkporkian, I would prefer Captain Carrot," said Carrot.

"As you wish, Smelter," said the dwarf. "The elevator awaits!"

As they descended, Carrot said, "What powers this, please?"

"A Device," said Helmclever, pride breaking out over his nervousness.

"Really? You have many Devices?" said Carrot.

"An axle and an average bar."

"An average bar? I've only every heard of them."

"We are fortunate. I will be happy to show it to you. It is invaluable for food preparation," Helmclever gabbled. "And down below we have a number of cubes, of varying powers. Nothing may be withheld from the Smelter. I am ordered to show you everything you wish to see and tell you everything you wish to know."

"Thank you," said Carrot as the elevator stopped in blackness speckled with the corpse glow of vurms. "How large are your diggings here?"

"I cannot tell you that," said Helmclever quickly. "I do not know. Ah, here is Ardent. I will go back up-"

"No, Helmclever, remain with us, please," said a darker shadow in the gloom. "You should see this, too. Good day to you, Captain Carrot and-" Angua detected an element of distaste "-ladies. Please follow me. I am sorry for the lack of light. Perhaps your eyes will adapt. I will be happy to describe to you any object that you touch. Now I will lead you to the place where the dreadful occurrence...occurred."

Angua looked around as they were led along the tunnel, noting that Carrot had to walk with his knees slightly bent. Head Banger, eh? Funny, you never mention that to the lads! Head Banger, eh? Funny, you never mention that to the lads!

Every dozen yards or so, Ardent would stop in front of a round door, invariably with the vurms cl.u.s.tered around it, and turn a wheel. The doors creaked when they opened, and they opened with a ponderousness that suggested they were heavy. Here and there in the tunnels were...things, mechanical things, hanging from the wall and clearly there with a purpose. Vurms glowed around them. She hadn't got a clue what the objects were for, but Carrot greeted them with enthusiastic glee, like a schoolboy.

"You have air bells and water boots, Mr. Ardent! I've only ever heard of them!"

"You were raised in the good rock of Copperhead, were you not, Captain? Mining in this wet plain is like digging tunnels in the sea."

"And the iron doors are quite watertight, are they?"

"Yes, indeed. Airtight, too."

"Remarkable! I should like to visit again, when this wretched business is over. A dwarf mine under the city! It's quite hard to believe!"

"I'm sure that could be arranged, Captain."

And that was Carrot at work. He could sound so innocent, so friendly, so...stupid, in a puppy-dog kind of way, and then he suddenly became this big block of steel and you walked right into it. By the smell of it, Sally was watching him with interest.

Be sensible, Angua told herself. Don't let the vampire get to you. Don't start believing you're stupid and hairy. Think clearly. You do do have a brain. have a brain.

Surely people could go mad, living in this murk? Angua found it easier to close her eyes. Down here, her nose worked better without distraction. Darkness helped. With her eyes shut, various faint colors danced across her brain. Without the stink of the d.a.m.ned vampire, though, she would have been able to pick up a lot more. The stench poisoned every sensation. Hold on, don't think like that, you're just letting your mind do the thinking for you...hang on, that's wrong... Hold on, don't think like that, you're just letting your mind do the thinking for you...hang on, that's wrong...

There was a faint outline in the corner of the next chamber, which was quite large. It looked like...an outline. A chalk outline. A glowing glowing chalk outline. chalk outline.

"I understand this is the approved method?" said Ardent. "You will be aware of night chalk, Captain? It is made of crushed vurm. The glow persists for about a day. On the floor here you will see, or rather, you will feel feel the club that dealt him his deathblow. Just under your hand, Captain. There is blood on it. I regret the darkness, but we kept the vurms out. They would have feasted, you understand." the club that dealt him his deathblow. Just under your hand, Captain. There is blood on it. I regret the darkness, but we kept the vurms out. They would have feasted, you understand."

Angua saw Carrot, outlined in his permanent smell of soap, feel his way across the s.p.a.ce. His hand touched another metal door.

"Where does this go, sir?" he said, tapping it.

"To the outer chambers."

"Was it open at the time the troll attacked the grag?"

You really think a troll did? Angua wondered. Angua wondered.

"I believe so," said Ardent.

"Then I would like it open now, please."

"I cannot agree to that request, Captain."

"I did not intend it to be a request, sir. After it has been opened, I will need to know who was in the mine at the time the troll broke in. I will need to speak to them, and to whoever discovered the body. Hara'g, j'kargra." Hara'g, j'kargra."

For Angua, the smell of Ardent changed. Under all those layers, the dwarf was suddenly uncertain. He'd walked right into it. He hesitated for several seconds before replying.

"I will...endeavor to meet your reque-your requirements, Smelter," he said. "I will leave you now. Come, Helmclever."

"Grz dava'j?" said Carrot. said Carrot. "K'zakra'j? D'j h'ragna ra'd'j!" "K'zakra'j? D'j h'ragna ra'd'j!"

Ardent stepped forward, uncertainty growing, and held out both hands, palms down. For a moment, until his sleeves slipped, Angua saw a faintly glowing symbol on his right wrist. Every deep-downer had a draht draht as unique evidence of ident.i.ty, in a world of shrouded figures. She'd heard they were made by tattooing vurm blood under the skin. It sounded painful. as unique evidence of ident.i.ty, in a world of shrouded figures. She'd heard they were made by tattooing vurm blood under the skin. It sounded painful.

Carrot took his hands for a moment, and then let go.

"Thank you," he said, as if the dwarfish interlude had not taken place. The two dwarfs hurried away.

In the thick darkness, the watchmen were left alone.

"What was all that about?" said Angua.

"Just rea.s.suring him," said Carrot cheerfully. He reached into a pocket. "Now we've arrived, let's have some light in here, shall we?"

Angua smelled his hand move vigorously across the wall once or twice, as if he was painting. There arose an aroma of...pork pie?

"Soon be brighter," he said.

"Captain Carrot, this wasn't where-" Sally began.

"All in good time, Lance Constable," said Carrot firmly. "For now, we just observe."

"But I must tell you-"

"Later on, lance constable," said Carrot a little louder. Vurms were flowing around the open door they'd arrived by, and across the stone. "By the way, er, Sally...will you be all right if we view the body?" lance constable," said Carrot a little louder. Vurms were flowing around the open door they'd arrived by, and across the stone. "By the way, er, Sally...will you be all right if we view the body?"

That's right, Angua thought, think of her her. I've dealt with blood every day. Walk a mile in my my nostrils! nostrils!