Thud

`Quite. The cocktail is known as Fluff, I believe. As to the trolls, one might speculate that it would be very hard to find anything to make their beer even more dangerous than it palpably is, but I wonder if you have heard, Vimes, that an admixture of various metallic salts produces a drink known as luglarr, or "Big Hammer"?

'Can't say I have, sir:

`Vimes, some of the flagstones in the plaza have actually been etched by the stuff!'

`Sorry about that, sir:

Vetinari drummed his fingers on the table. `What would you do

if I asked you an outright question, Vimes?'

`I'd tell you a downright lie, sir:

`Then I will not do so,' said Vetinari, smiling faintly. `Thank you, sir. Nor will I' `Where are your prisoners?'

`We spread them around the Watch House yards,' said Vimes. `As

they wake up we hose 'em clean, take their names, give 'em a receipt

for their weapon and a hot drink and push 'em out into the street.' `Their weapons are culturally very important to them, Vimes,' said Vetinari.

`Yeah, Sir, I know. I myself have a strong cultural bias against

getting my brains bashed in and my knees cut off,' said Vimes,

stifling a yawn and wincing as his ribs objected.

`Indeed. Were there any casualties in the battle?'

`None that won't heal.' Vimes grimaced. `I have to report that

Mr A. E. Pessimal sustained a broken arm and multiple bruises,

though.'

Vetinari actually looked taken aback. `The inspector? What was

he doing?'

`Er, attacking a troll, sir:

I'm sorry? Mr A. E. Pessimal attacked a troll?' `Yessir.'

`A. E. Pessimal?' Vetinari repeated. `That's the man, sir.' `A whole troll?'

`Yessir. With his teeth, sir:

`Mr A. E. Pessimal? You are sure? Small man? Very clean shoes?' `Yessir.'

Vetinari grabbed a helpful question from the gathering throng. `Why?'

Vimes coughed. `Well, Sir...'

The troll mob was a tableau. Trolls stood or sat or lay where they had been when the Big Hammer had struck. There were a few slow imbibers who put up a bit of a fight, and one who had stuck with a bottle of looted sherry put up a spirited last-drop stand until golem Constable Dorfl picked him up bodily and bounced him on his head.

Vimes walked through it all, as the squad dragged or rolled slumbering trolls into neat lines to await the wagons. And then

The day was not improving for Brick. He'd drunk a beer. Well, maybe more'n one. Where was der harm in dat?

And now, there, right in front of him, wearing one o' dem helmets an' everyt'ing, was, yeah, could be a dwarf, insofar as the fizzing, sizzling pathways of his brain were capable of deciding anything at all. What der hell, they decided, it wasn't a troll and dat was what it was all about, right? An' here was his club, right here in his han'

Instinct caused Vimes to turn as a troll opened red eyes, blinked and began to swing a club. Too slowly, too slowly in the suddenly frozen time, he tried to dive away, and he felt the club smash into his side and lift him, lift him up and tip him on to the ground. He could hear shouting 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 at his right knee. Some little gnome or somethin' was attackin' him wi' a blunt sword and kickin' an' scream in' like a mad fing. He put it down to the drink, like der feelin' that his ears were givin' off flames, an' brushed the 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 in hand. But Detritus, arriving behind it now, pulled it round with one shovel-sized hand and here came Detritus's fist, like the wrath of gods. For Brick, everything went dar-

`You 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 semi-conscious 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 enquire, 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 the look which said: if you take this

any further I will have to lie.

Vetinari returned one which 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 which said: broken ribs, I'm certain of it.

Vimes returned one which 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.