‘Do you want to say a few words?’ said Carrot.
‘You heard the howl last night. That’s how wolves do it,’ said Angua, still looking out across the water. ‘There aren’t any other words.’
‘Perhaps just a moment’s silence, then-‘
She spun round. ‘Carrot! Don’t you remember last night? Didn’t you wonder what I might become? Didn’t you worry about the future?’
No.
‘Why the hell not?’
‘It hasn’t happened yet. Shall we get back? It’ll be dark soon.’
‘And tomorrow?’
‘I’d like you to come back to AnkhMorpork.’
‘Why? There’s nothing for me there.’
Carrot patted the soil over the grave. ‘Is there anything left for you here?’ he said. ‘Besides, I-‘
Don’t you dare say the words, Angua thought. Not at a time like this.
And then they both became aware of the wolves. They were creeping through the trees, darker shadows in the evening light.
‘They’re hunting,’ said Angua, grabbing Carrot’s arm.
‘Oh, don’t worry. They don’t attack human beings for no reason.’
‘Carrot?’
‘Yes?’ The wolves were closing in.
‘1’m not human!’
‘But last night-‘
‘That was different. They remembered Gavin. Now I’m just a werewolf to them…’
She watched him turn to look at the advancing wolves. The hairs were up on their backs. They were growling. They moved with the strange sidle of those whose hatred could just manage to overcome their fear. And at any moment that balance in one of them was going to tip all the way, and then it would be all over.
There was a leap, and it was Carrot who made it. He grabbed the lead wolf by its neck and tail and held on as it struggled and snapped. Its frantic efforts to escape resulted only in it running in a circle with Carrot in the middle, the other wolves backing away from the whirl of grey. Then, as it stumbled, he bit it on the back of the neck. It screamed.
Carrot let go and stood up. He looked at the
circle of wolves. They shied away. from his gaze.
‘Hmmm?’ he said.
The wolf on the ground whined and got to its feet awkwardly.
‘Hmmm?’
It tucked its tail between its legs and backed off, but it still seemed to be attached to Carrot by an invisible lead.
‘Angua?’ said Carrot, still watching it carefully.
‘Yes?’
‘Can you speak wolf? I mean, in this shape?’
‘A bit. Look, how did you know what to do?’
‘Oh, I’ve watched animals,’ said Carrot, as if that was an explanation. ‘Please tell them- … tell them if they go away now I won’t harm them.’
She managed to bark out the words. It had all changed, in such a tiny handful of seconds. Now Carrot wrote the script.
‘And now tell them that although I’m going away I may be back. What’s the name of this one?’ He nodded at the cowering wolf.
‘That’s Eats Wrong Meat,’ Angua whispered. ‘He was … he’s the leader now Gavin’s gone.’
‘Then tell them that I’m quite happy that he should go on leading. Tell them all that.’
They watched her intently. She knew what they were thinking. He’d beaten the leader. It was all Sorted Out. Wolves did not have a lot of mental space for uncertainty. Doubt was a luxury for species that did not live one meal away from starvation. They still had a Gavin-shaped hole in their minds and Carrot had stepped into it. Of course, it wouldn’t last long. But it didn’t need to.
He always, always finds a way in, she thought. He doesn’t think about it, he doesn’t plot, he simply slides in. I saved him because he couldn’t save himself, and Gavin saved him because … because … because he had some reason … and I’m almost, almost certain that Carrot doesn’t know how he manages to wrap the world around him. Almost certain. He’s good and kind and born to be a king of the ancient sort that wore oak leaves and ruled from a seat under a tree, and though he tries hard he never had a cynical thought.
I’m almost certain.
‘Let’s go now,’ said Carrot. ‘The coronation will be over soon, and I don’t want Mister Vimes to worry.’
‘Carrot! I’ve got to know something.’
‘Yes?’
‘That might happen to me. Have you ever thought about that? He was my brother, after all. Being two things at the same time, and never quite being one … we’re not the most stable of creatures.’
‘Gold and muck come ‘out of the same shaft,’ said Carrot.
‘That’s just a dwarf saying!’
‘It’s true, though. You’re not him.’
‘Well, if it happened … if it did … would you do what Vimes did? Carrot? Would it be you who picked up a weapon and came after me? I know you won’t lie. I’ve got to know. Would it be you?’
A little snow slid down from the trees. The wolves watched. Carrot looked up for a moment at the grey sky and then nodded.
‘Yes.’
She sighed. ‘Promise?’ she said.
Vimes was surprised at how quickly the coronation became a working day. There was a flourish of echoing horns, a general flow of the crowd and, gradually, a queue in front of the King.
‘They haven’t even given him time to get comfy!’ said Lady Sybil as they headed towards the exit.
‘Our kings are … working kings,’ said Cheery, and Vimes detected the pride in her voice. ‘But now is the time when the King awards favours.’
A dwarf caught up with Vimes and tugged his cloak respectfully.
‘The King wishes to see you now, your excellency,’ he said.
‘There’s an almighty queue!’
‘Nevertheless,’ the dwarf gave a polite cough, ‘the King wishes to see you now. All of you.’
They were led to the front of the queue. Vimes felt many eyes boring into the small of his back.
The King dismissed the previous supplicant with a regal nod as the AnkhMorpork party was deftly inserted at the top of the line, supplanting a dwarf whose beard went down to his knees.
The King looked at them for a moment, and then the internal filing system threw up a card.
‘Ah, it’s yourselves, good as new,’ he said. ‘Now, what was it I was going to do? Oh, I remember … Lady Sybil?’
She curtsied.
‘Classically, we give rings at this time,’ said the King. ‘Between ourselves, many dwarfs consider this a bit … well, bath salts, see. But I believe they are still welcome and so this, Lady Sybil, is, perhaps, a token of things to come.’
It was a thin silver ring. Vimes was taken aback at this parsimony, but Sybil could accept a bunch of dead rats graciously.
‘Oh, how wond-‘
‘We normally give gold,’ the King went on. ‘Very popular, and of course you can sing about it. But this has … rarity value, see. It is the first silver that has been mined in Uberwald in hundreds of years.’
‘I thought there was a rule that-‘ Vimes began.
‘I ordered the mines re-opened last night,’ said the King pleasantly. ‘It seemed an auspicious time. We shall soon have ore for sale, your excellency, but if Lady Sybil doesn’t get involved in the negotiations and bankrupt us, I for one shall be very grateful,’ the King added. ‘Miss Littlebottom, I see, has not graced us with a sartorial extravaganza today?’
Cheery stared.
‘You’re not wearing a dress,’ said the King.
‘No, sire.’
‘Although I do note a few unobtrusive touches of mascara and lipstick.’
‘Yes, sire,’ squeaked Cheery, on the point of death through shock.
‘There’s nice. Do be sure to let me know the name of your dressmaker,’ the King went on. ‘I may have some custom for her in the fullness
of time. I’ve thought long and hard-‘
Vimes blinked. Cheery had gone pale. Had anyone else heard that? Had he?
Sybil nudged him in the ribs. ‘Your mouth’s open, Sam,’ she whispered.
So he had heard it …
He heard the King’s voice again. ‘-and a bag of gold is always acceptable.’
Cheery was still staring.
Vimes shook her gently by the shoulder.
‘Th-thank you, sire.’
The King held out his hand. Vimes wobbled Cheery again. Completely hypnotized, she extended her hand. The King took it and shook it.
Shocked whispers were spreading behind Vimes. The King had shaken the hand of a selfdeclared female …
‘And that leaves … Detritus,’ said the King. ‘What a dwarf should give a troll is of course a bit of a puzzle, but it occurs to me that what I should give you is what I would give a dwarf. A bag of gold, then, for whatever purpose you choose to use it, and-‘
He stood up. He held out his hand.
Dwarfs and trolls were still fighting in the further regions of Uberwald, Vimes knew. Elsewhere, there was at best the sort of peace you got when both sides were busy re-arming.