‘Which bit, sir?’
‘Practically all of it, really. Why should AnkhMorpork dwarfs object if someone says they’re not dwarfs? They know they’re dwarfs.’
‘They won’t be subject to dwarf law, sir.’
‘I didn’t know they were.’
‘I mean, it’s like … how you live your life, sir. Marriages, burials, that sort of thing. Marriages won’t be legal. Old dwarfs won’t be allowed to be buried back home. And that’d be terrible. Every dwarf dreams of going back home when he’s old and starting up a little mine.’
‘Every dwarf? Even the ones who were born in AnkhMorpork?’
‘Home can mean all sorts of things, sir,’ said Cheery. ‘There’s other things, too. Contracts won’t be valid. Dwarfs like good solid rules, sir.’
‘We’ve got laws in AnkhMorpork, too. More or less.’
‘Between themselves dwarfs prefer to use their own, sir.’
‘I bet the Copperhead dwarfs won’t like it if that happens.’
‘Yes, sir. There’ll be a split. And another war.’ She sighed.
‘But why was she going on about drink?’
‘I don’t know, sir.’
‘I don’t like ‘em. Never have done, never will.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Did you see that rat?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I think she was laughing at me.’
The coach rolled through the streets of Bonk once more.
‘How big a war?’
‘A worse one than the one fifty years ago, I expect,’ said Cheery.
‘I don’t recall people talking about that one,’ said Vimes.
‘Most humans didn’t know about it,’ said Cheery. ‘It mostly took place underground. Undermining passages and digging invasion tunnels and so on. Perhaps a few houses fell into mysterious holes and people didn’t get their coal, but that was about it.’
‘You mean dwarfs just try to collapse mines on other dwarfs?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘I thought you were all law-abiding?’
‘Oh, yes, sir. Very law-abiding. Just not very merciful.’
Ye gods, thought Vimes, as the coach rolled over the bridge in the centre of the town, I haven’t been sent to a coronation. I’ve been sent to a war that hasn’t started yet.
He glanced up. Tantony was watching him intently, but looked away quickly.
Lady Margolotta watched the coach until it reached the gates of the town. She stood back a little from the window. There was a slight overcast, but habits of preservation died hard.
‘Vhat a very angry man, Igor.’
‘Yeth, mithtreth.’
‘You can see it piling up behind his patience. I vonder how far he can be pushed?’
‘I’ve brought the hearthe around, mithtreth.’
‘Oh, is it that late? We’d better be going, then. Everyvun feels despondent if I miss a meeting, you know.’
The castle on the other side of the valley was much more rugged than Lady Margolotta’s confectionery item. Even so, the gates were wide open and didn’t look as though they were often closed.
The main door was tall and heavy-looking. The only thing that suggested it hadn’t been ordered from the standard castle catalogue was the smaller, narrow door, a few feet high, set into it.
‘What’s that for?’ said Vimes. ‘Even a dwarf would bump their head.’
‘I suppose it depends on what shape you are when you go in,’ said Cheery darkly.
The main door opened as soon as Vimes had laid his hand on the wolf’s-head knocker. But he was ready this time. .
‘Good morning, Igor,’ he said.
‘Good day, your exthellenthy,’ said Igor, bowing.
‘Igor and Igor send their regards, Igor.’
‘Thank you, your exthellenthy. Thinthe you mention it, could I put a parthel on your coach for Igor?’
‘You mean the Igor at the embassy?’
‘That’th who I thaid, thur,’ said Igor patiently. ‘He athked me if I could lend him a hand.’
‘Yes, no problem there.’
‘Good. It’th well wrapped up and the ithe will keep it nithe and freth. Would you thtep thith way? The marthter ith changing at the moment.’
Igor shambled into a wide hall, one side of which was mostly fireplace, and bowed out.
‘Did he say what I thought he said?’ said Vimes. ‘About the hand and ice?’
‘It’s not what it sounds like, sir,’ said Cheery.
‘I hope so. My gods, look at that damned thing!’
A huge red flag hung from the rafters. In the middle of it was a black wolf’s head, its mouth full of stylized flashes of lightning.
‘Their new flag, I think,’ said Cheery.
‘I thought it was just a crest with the doubledheaded bat?’
‘Perhaps they thought it was time for a change, sir-‘
‘Ah, your excellency! Isn’t Sybil with you?’
The woman who had entered was Angua, but padded somewhat with years. She was wearing a long, loose green gown, very old fashioned by AnkhMorpork standards, although there are some styles that never go out of date on the right figure. She was brushing her hair as she walked across the floor.
‘Er, she’s staying at the embassy today. We had rather a difficult journey. You would be the Baroness Serafine von Uberwald?’
‘And you’re Sam Vimes. Sybil’s letters are all about you. The Baron won’t be long. We were out hunting and lost track of time.’
‘I expect it’s a lot of work, seeing to the horses,’ said Vimes politely.
Serafine’s smile went strange for a moment. ‘Hah. Yes,’ she said. ‘Can I get Igor to fetch you a drink?’
‘No, thank you.’
She sat down on one of the overstuffed chairs and beamed at him. ‘You’ve met the new king, your excellency?’
‘This morning.’
‘I believe he’s having trouble.’
‘What makes you think that?’ said Vimes.
Serafine looked startled. ‘I thought everyone knew?’
‘Well, I’ve hardly been here five minutes,’ said Vimes. ‘I probably don’t count as everyone.’
Now, he was pleased to note, she looked puzzled.
‘We … just heard there was some problem,’ she said.
‘Oh, well … a new king, a coronation to organize … A few problems are bound to occur,’ he said. Well, he thought, so this is diplomacy. It’s like lying, only to a better class of people.
‘Yes. Of course.’
‘Angua is well,’ said Vimes.
‘Are you sure you won’t have a drink?’ said Serafine quickly, standing up. ‘Ah, here is my husband-‘
The Baron entered the room like a whirlwind that had swept up several dogs. They bounded ahead of him and danced around him.
‘Hello! Hello!’ he boomed.
Vimes looked at an enormous man – not fat, not tall, just built to perhaps one-tenth over scale. He didn’t so much have a face with a beard as a beard with, peeking over the top in that narrow gap between the moustache and the eyebrows, small remnants of face. He bore down on Vimes in a cloud of leaping bodies, hair and a smell of old carpets.
Vimes was ready for the handshake when it came, but even so had to grimace as his bones were ground together.
‘Good of you to come, hey? Heard so much about you!’
But not enough, Vimes thought. He wondered if he’d ever have the use of his hand again. It was still being gripped. The dogs had transferred their attention to him. He was being sniffed.
‘Greatest respect for AnkhMorpork, hey?’ said the Baron.
‘Er … good,’ said Vimes. Blood was getting no further than his wrist.
‘Have seat!’ the Baron barked. Vimes had been trying to avoid the word, but that was exactly how the man spoke – in short, sharp sentences, every one an exclamation.
He was herded towards a chair. Then the Baron let go of his hand and flung himself on to the huge carpet, the excited dogs piling on top of him.
Serafine made a noise somewhere between a growl and the ‘Tch!’ of wifely disapproval. Obediently the Baron pushed the dogs aside and flung himself into a chair.
‘You’ll have to take us as you find us,’ said Serafine, smiling with her mouth alone. ‘This has always been a very informal household.’
‘It’s a very nice place,’ said Vimes weakly, staring around the enormous room. Trophy heads lined the walls, but at least there were no trolls. No weapons, either. There were no spears, no rusty old swords, not even a broken bow, which was practically against the law of castle furnishing. He stared at the wall again, and then at the carving over the fireplace. And then his gaze travelled down.
One of the dogs, and Vimes had to be clear about this – he was using the term dogs merely because they were indoors and that was a place where the word wolf was not usually encountered – was watching him. He’d never seen such an appraising look on a creature’s face. It was weighing him up.
There was something familiar about the pale gold hair that was a sort of mane. In fact it looked quite like Angua, but heavier set. And there was another difference, which was small yet horribly significant. Like Angua, it had this sense of movement stilled; but whereas Angua always looked as if she was poised to flee, this one looked poised to leap.