Historical Re-creation, he thought glumly, as they picked their way across, under, over or through the boulders and insectbuzzing heaps of splintered timber, with streamlets running everywhere. Only we do it with people dressing up and running around with blunt weapons, and people selling hot dogs, and the girls all miserable because they can only dress up as wenches, wenching being the only job available to women in the olden days.
But the dwarfs and the trolls ... they fight it again for real. Like, perhaps, if they fight it enough times they'll get it right?
Now there was a hole in the track in front of him, half blocked with the winter's debris, but still managing to swallow a whole streamlet. It poured, foaming, into the depths. There was a booming noise, far below. When he knelt down and touched the water, it was so cold it stung.
`Yes, watch out for sinkholes, commander,' said Bashfullsson. `This is limestone. Water wears it away quite quickly. We'll probably see some much bigger ones. Often they're hidden by rotting debris. Watch where you tread.'
`Don't they get blocked up?'
`Oh, yes, sir. You've seen the size of the rocks that roll down here.' `It must be like a giant game of billiards!'
`Something like that, I expect,' said Bashfullsson carefully.
After ten minutes, Vimes sat down on a log, pulled off his helmet, took out a big red handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
`It's getting hotter,' he said. `And everywhere in this bloody place looks the same- Ow!' He slapped at his wrist.
`The midges can be a bit extreme, sir,' Cheery volunteered. `It's said that when they bite extra hard, there's a storm coming.
They both looked up at the mountains. There was a yellow haze at the far end of the valley, and clouds between the peaks.
`Oh, good,' said Vimes. `Because it feels like that bite went to the bone.'
`I wouldn't worry too much, commander,' said Cheery. `The big Koom Valley storm was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence.'
`It certainly is a lifetime if you were caught in it,' said Vimes. `This damn place is getting to me, I don't mind admitting it.'
By now the rest of the squad had caught up. Sally and Detritus were visibly suffering from the heat. The vampire sat down in the shade of a big rock without saying anything. Brick lay down by the icy stream and stuck his head in it.
`I'm afraid I'm not much help here, sir,' said Angua. `I can smell dwarf, but that's about it. There's just too much damn water everywhere!'
`Maybe we won't need your nose,' said Vimes. He unslung the tube that contained Sybil's sketch, unrolled the drawing and pinned the ends together.
`Give me a hand with this, will you, Cheery?' he said. `Everyone else, get some rest. And don't laugh.'
He lowered the circlet of mountains over his head. There was a cough from Angua, which he pretended to ignore.
`Okay,' said Vimes, turning the stiff paper to get the mountains lined up just above their pencilled outlines. `That's Copperhead over there and Cori Celesti over there ... and they line up pretty well against the drawing. We're practically on top of it already!'
`Not really, commander,' said Bashfullsson, behind him. `They're both almost four hundred miles away. They'd look pretty much the same from anywhere in this part of the valley. You need to look at the nearer peaks.'
Vimes turned. `Okay. What's that one that looks really sheer on the left-hand side?'
`That is The King, sir,' said Cheery. `He's about ten miles away.'
`Really? He looks closer. .
Vimes found the mountain on the drawing. `And that small one over there?' he said. `The one with two peaks?'
`I don't know the name, sir, but I can see the one you mean.'
`They're too small and too close together. .: Vimes muttered.
`Then walk towards them, sir. Mind where you're putting your feet. Only tread on bare rock. Keep off any pile of debris. The grag is right. It could be over an old sinkhole and you might drop right through.'
`O-kay. About halfway between them is that funny-shaped little outcrop. I'll head directly for it. You watch where I'm putting my feet too, will you?'
Trying to keep the paper level, stumbling on rocks and splashing through icy rivulets, Vimes walked the lonesome valley....Damn and blast!'
`Sir?'
Vimes peered over the top of his ring of paper. `I've lost The King. That damn great ridge of boulders is in the way. Hold on ... I can see that mountain with the chunk taken out of it. .
It looked so simple. It would have been simple if Koom Valley had been flat and not littered with rubbish like the ten-pin bowling alley of the gods. In some places they had to backtrack because a rampart of tangled, stinking, gnat-infested timber blocked the way. Or the barrier was a wall of rocks the length of a street. Or a wide, mist-filled, thundering cauldron of white water that elsewhere would have a name like The Devil's Cauldron but here was nameless because this was Koom Valley and for Koom Valley there just weren't enough devils and they didn't have enough cauldrons.