‘Oh, sire, before I can disbelieve these pernicious lies, I do need to know what they are.’
‘Vimes, you have gone insane,’ said Rust. ‘You can’t arrest the commander of an army!’
‘Actually, Mr Vimes, I think we could,’ said Carrot. ‘And the army, too. I mean, I don’t see why we can’t. We could charge them with behaviour likely to cause a breach of the peace, sir. I mean, that’s what warfare is.’
Vimes’s face split in a manic grin. ‘I like it.’
‘But in fairness our — that is, the Ankh-Morpork army — are also—’
‘Then you’d better arrest them too,’ said Vimes. ‘Arrest the lot of ’em. Conspiracy to cause an affray,’ he started to count on his fingers, ‘going equipped to commit a crime, obstruction, threatening behaviour, loitering with intent, loitering within tent, hah, travelling for the purposes of committing a crime, malicious lingering and carrying concealed weapons.’
‘I don’t think that one—’ Carrot began.
‘I can’t see ’em,’ said Vimes.
‘Vimes, I order you to come to your senses this minute!’ roared Lord Rust. ‘Have you been out in the sun?’
‘That’s one count of offensive behaviour to his lordship as well,’ said Vimes.
The Prince was still staring at Vimes.
‘You seriously think that you can arrest an army?’ he said. ‘Perhaps you think you have a bigger army?’
‘Don’t need one,’ said Vimes. ‘Power at a point, that’s what Tacticus says. And here it’s the one right on the end of Ahmed’s crossbow. That wouldn’t frighten a D’reg, but you… I reckon you don’t think like them. Tell your men to stand down. I want the order to go out right now.’
‘Even Ahmed would not shoot his prince in cold blood,’ said Prince Cadram.
Vimes snatched the crossbow. ‘I wouldn’t ask him to!’ He took aim. ‘Give that order!’
The Prince stared at him.
‘Count of three!’ shouted Vimes.
General Ashal leaned down and whispered something to the Prince. The man’s expression stiffened and he glanced back at Vimes again.
‘That’s right,’ said Vimes. ‘It runs in the family.’
‘It would be murder!’
‘Would it? In wartime? I’m from Ankh-Morpork. Aren’t I supposed to be at war with you? Can’t be murder if there’s a war on. That’s written down somewhere.’
The general leaned down and whispered.
‘One,’ said Vimes.
Now there was a hurried argument.
‘Two.’
‘Myprincewishesmetosay—’ the general began.
‘All right, slow down,’ said Vimes.
‘If it makes you any happier, I will send out the order,’ said the general. ‘Let the messengers leave.’
Vimes nodded and lowered the bow. The Prince shifted uneasily.
‘And the Ankh-Morpork army will stand down as well,’ said Vimes.
‘But, Vimes, you’re on our side—’ Rust began.
‘Bloody hell, I’m going to shoot someone today and it could just be you, Rust,’ Vimes snarled.
‘Sir?’ Lieutenant Hornett tugged at his commander’s jacket. ‘May I have a word?’
Vimes heard them whispering, and then the young man left.
‘All right, we are all disarmed,’ said Rust. ‘We are all “under arrest”. And now, commander?’
‘I ought to read them their rights, sir,’ said Carrot.
‘What are you talking about?’ said Vimes.
‘The men out there, sir.’
‘Oh. Yeah. Right. Do it, then.’
Oh gods, I arrested an entire battlefield, Vimes thought. And you can’t do that.
But I’ve done it. And we’ve only got six cells back at the Yard, and we keep the coal in one of them.
You can’t do it.
Was this the army that invaded your country, ma’am? No, officer, they were taller than that…
How about this one? I’m not sure — get them to march up and down a bit…
Carrot’s voice could be heard outside, slightly muffled:
‘Now… can you all hear me? You gentlemen in the back there? Anyone who can’t hear me, please raise… all right, has anyone got a megaphone? Some cardboard I could roll up? In that case I’ll shout…’
‘What now?’ said the Prince.
‘I’m taking you back to Ankh-Morpork—’
‘I don’t think so. That would be an act of war.’
‘You are making a mockery of the whole business, Vimes!’ said Lord Rust.
‘So long as I’m doing something right, then.’ Vimes nodded at Ahmed.
‘Then you can answer for your crime here, sire,’ he said.
‘In what court?’ said the Prince.
Ahmed leaned closer to Vimes. ‘What was your plan from here on?’ he whispered.
‘I never thought we’d get this far!’
‘Ah. Well… it has been interesting, Sir Samuel.’
Prince Cadram smiled at Vimes. ‘Would you like some coffee while you are considering your next move?’ he said. He gestured to an ornate silver pot on the table.
‘We’ve got proof,’ Vimes said. But he could feel the world dropping away. The point about burning your boats is that you shouldn’t be standing on them when you drop the match.
‘Really? Fascinating. And to whom will you show this proof, Sir Samuel?’
‘We’ll have to find a court.’
‘Intriguing. A court in Ankh-Morpork, perhaps? Or a court here?’
‘Someone told me that the world watches,’ said Vimes.
There was silence except for the muffled sounds of Carrot, outside, and the occasional buzz of a fly.
‘… bingeley-bingeley beep…’ The Dis-organizer’s voice had lost its chirpy little edge, and sounded sleepy and bewildered.
Heads turned.
‘… Seven eh em… Organize Defenders at River Gate… Seven twenty-five… Hand-to-Hand Fighting in Peach Pie Street… Seven forty-eight eight eight… Rally Survivors in Sator Square… Things To Do Today: Build Build Build Barricades…’
He was aware of surreptitious movement behind him, and then slight pressure. Ahmed was standing back to back with him.
‘What is that thing talking about?’
‘Search me. Sounds like it’s in a different world, doesn’t it…?’
He could feel events racing towards a distant wall. Sweat filled his eyes. He couldn’t remember when he’d last had a proper sleep. His legs twinged. His arms ached, pulled down by the heavy bow.
‘… bingeley… Eight oh two eh em, Death of Corporal Littlebottombottom… Eight oh three eh em… Death of Sergeant Detritus… Eight oh threethreethree eh em and seven seconds seconds… Death of Constable Visit… Eight oh three eh em and nineninenine seconds… Death of death of death of…’
‘They say that in Ankh-Morpork one of your ancestors killed a king,’ said the Prince. ‘And he also came to no good end.’
Vimes wasn’t listening.
‘… Death of Constable Dorfl… Eight oh three eh em and fourteenteenteen seconds…’
The figure in the throne seemed to take up the whole world.
‘… Death of Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson… beep…’
And Vimes thought: I nearly didn’t come. I nearly stayed in Ankh-Morpork.
He had always wondered how Old Stoneface had felt, that frosty morning when he picked up the axe that had no legal blessing because the King wouldn’t recognize a court even if a jury could be found, that frosty morning when he prepared to sever what people thought was a link between men and deity—