Thud

The cellar was large and cool. There were tables everywhere, with a couple of people at each one, bent over a chequered board. A games room? The players were dwarfs, trolls and humans, but what they had in common was concentration. Unconcerned faces glanced towards Vimes, who had paused halfway down the stairs, and then looked back to the game in hand.

Vimes continued down to floor level. This had to be important, right? Mr Shine had wanted him to see it. People - men, trolls, dwarfs - playing games. Occasionally a couple of players would look up at one another, share a glance and shake hands. Then one of them would go off to a new table.

`What do you notice, Mister Vimes?' said a deep voice behind him. Vimes forced himself to turn slowly.

The figure sitting in the shadows beside the stairway was

shrouded entirely in black. He looked a good head taller than Vimes.

`They're all young?' he ventured, and added: `Mr Shine?'

`Exactly! More youngsters tend to come along in the evenings, too. Do take a seat, sir.'

`Why have I come to see you, Mr Shine?' said Vimes, sitting down.

`Because you want to find out why you have come to see me, 'said the dark figure. `Because you're wandering in the dark. Because Mister Vimes, with his badge and his truncheon, is full of rage. More full than usual. Take care of that rage, Mister Vimes.'

Mystic, thought Vimes. `I like to see who I'm talking to,' he said. `What are you?'

`You would not see me if I removed this hood,' said Mr Shine. `As for what I am, I'll ask you this: would it be true to say that Captain Carrot, while very happy to be a Watch officer, is the rightful king of Ankh-Morpork?'

`I have trouble with the term "rightful",' said Vimes.

`So I understand. It may well be that this is one reason why he hasn't yet chosen to declare himself,' said Mr Shine. `But no matter. Well, I am the rightful - excuse me - and indisputable king of the trolls.'

`Really?' said Vimes. It wasn't much of a reply, but the options at this point were limited.

`Yes. And when I say indisputable, I mean what I say, Mister Vimes. Hidden human kings have to resort to magic swords or legendary feats to reclaim their birthright. I do not. I just have to be. You are aware of the concept of metamorphorical rock?'

`You mean the way trolls look like certain types of rock?'

`Indeed. Schist, Mica, Shale, and so on. Even Brick, poor young Brick. No one knows why this is, and they have expended thousands of words in saying so. Oh, to hell with it, as you would say. You deserve a glimpse. Protect your eyes. I, Mister Vimes-'

A black-robed arm was extended, a black velvet glove removed. Vimes shut his eyes in time, but the inside of the lids blazed red.

-am diamond,' said Mr Shine.

The glare faded a little. Vimes risked opening his eyes a fraction, and made out a hand, every flexing finger sparkling like a prism. The players glanced up, but they'd seen this before.

`Frost forms quite quickly,' said Mr Shine. When Vimes dared to peek, the hand glittered like the heart of winter.

`You're hiding out from jewellers?' he managed, taken aback.

`Ha! In fact this city is indeed a very good place for people who don't wish to be seen, Mister Vimes. I have friends here. And I have talents. You'd find me quite hard to see if I wished to be unseen. I am also, frankly, intelligent, and intelligent all the time. I don't need the Pork Futures Warehouse. I can regulate the temperature of my brain by reflecting all heat. Diamond trolls are very rare, and when we do appear, kingship is our destiny.'

Vimes waited. Mr Shine, who was now pulling his glove back on, appeared to have an agenda. The wisest thing was to let him talk until it all made sense.

`And do you know what happens when we become king?' said Mr Shine, now safely shrouded once more.

`Koom Valley?' Vimes suggested.

`Well done. The trolls unite, and we have the same tired old war, followed by centuries of skirmishing. That is the sad, stupid history of the trolls and the dwarfs. And this time, Ankh-Morpork will be caught up in it. You know that the troll and dwarf population here has grown enormously under Vetinari:

`All right, but if you're king, can't you just make peace?'

`Just like that? It'll need much more than that.' The hood of the robe shook sadly. `You really know very little about us, Mister Vimes. You see us down on the plains, shambling around talkin' like dis. You don't know about the history chant, or the Long Dance, or

stone music. You see the hunched troll, dragging his club. That's what the dwarfs did for us, long ago. They turned us, in your minds, into sad, brainless monsters.'

`Don't look at me when you say that,' said Vimes. `Detritus is one of my best officers!'