‘They never actually had the Convivium after all that fuss,’ said Lady Sybil, picking some microscopic lint off his doublet. ‘It’s got to be held.’
‘You’d think if I’m a duke I wouldn’t have to wear all this damn silly outfit, wouldn’t you?’
‘Well, I did point out that you could wear the official ducal regalia, dear.’
‘Yes, I’ve seen it. White silk stockings are not me.’
‘Well, you’ve got the calves for them—’
‘I think I’ll stick with the commander’s costume,’ said Vimes quickly.
Archchancellor Ridcully hurried up. ‘Ah, we’re ready for you now, Lord Vi—’
‘Call me Sir Samuel,’ said Vimes. ‘I can just about live with that.’
‘Well, we’ve found the Bursar in one of the attics, so I think we can make a start. If you’d take your place…’
Vimes walked to the head of the procession, feeling every gaze on him, hearing the whispers. Maybe you could get chucked out of the peerage? He’d have to look that up. Although, considering what lords had got up to in the past, it would have to be for something really, really awful.
Still, the drawings of the statue looked good. And he’d seen what was going to go in the history books. Making history, it turned out, was quite easy. It was what got written down. It was as simple as that.
‘Jolly good,’ Ridcully bellowed, above the buzz. ‘Now, if we all step smartly and follow Lor— Com— Sir Samuel we ought to be back here for lunch no later than half past one. Is the choir ready? No one is treading on anyone else’s robes? Then orf we go!’
Vimes set out at the mandatory slow walking pace. He heard the procession start up behind him. There were no doubt problems, as there always are on civic occasions which have to involve the old and deaf and the young and stupid. Several people were probably already walking in the wrong direction.
As he stepped out into Sator Square there were the jeers and various flatulent noises and murmurs of ‘Oozee then, oozee finkee izz?’ that are the traditional crowd responses on these occasions. But there were one or two cheers, too.
He tried to look straight ahead.
Silk stockings. With garters. Well, they were out. There were a lot of things he’d do for Sybil, but if garters figured anywhere in the relationship they weren’t going to be on him. And everyone said he had to wear a purple robe lined with vermine. They could forget that, too.
He’d spent a desperate hour in the library, and all that stuff about the gold knobs and silk stockings was so much marsh gas. Tradition? He’d show them tradition. What the original dukes wore, as far as he could see, was good sensible chain mail with blood on it, preferably other people’s—
There was a scream from the crowd. His head jerked round and he saw a stout woman sitting on the ground, waving her arms.
‘’e stole my bag! And ’e never showed me ’is Thieves’ Guild badge!’
The procession shunted to a halt as Vimes stared at the figure legging it across Sator Square.
‘You stop right there, Sidney Pickens!’ he yelled, and leapt forward.
And, of course, very few people do know how Tradition is supposed to go. There’s a certain mysterious ridiculousness about it by its very nature — once there was a reason why you had to carry a posy of primroses on Soul Cake Tuesday, but now you did it because… that’s what was Done. Besides, the intelligence of that creature known as a crowd is the square root of the number of people in it.
Vimes was running, so the University choir hurried after him. And the people behind the choir saw the gap opening up and responded to the urge to fill it. And then everyone was just running, because everyone else was running.
There were occasional whimpers from those whose heart, lungs or legs weren’t up to this kind of thing, and a bellow from the Archchancellor who had tried to stand firm in the face of the frantic stampede and was now having his head repeatedly trodden into the cobbles.
And apprentice thief Sidney Pickens ran because he’d taken one look over his shoulder and seen the whole of Ankh-Morpork society bearing down on him, and that sort of thing has a terrible effect on a growing lad.
And Sam Vimes ran. He tore off his cloak and whirled away his plumed hat, and he ran and ran.
There would be trouble later on. People would ask questions. But that was later on — for now, gloriously uncomplicated and wonderfully clean, and hopefully with never an end, under a clear sky, in a world untarnished… there was only the chase.
THE END
About the Author
Terry Pratchett is the acclaimed creator of the Discworld series, started in 1983 with The Colour of Magic, and which has now reached 38 novels. Worldwide sales of his books are now 60 million, and they have been translated into 37 languages. Terry Pratchett was knighted for services to literature in 2009.
Books by Terry Pratchett
The Discworld Series is a continuous history of a world not totally unlike our own except that it is a flat disc carried on the backs of four elephants astride a giant turtle floating through space, and that it is peopled by, among others, wizards, dwarves, policemen, thieves, beggars, vampires and witches. Within the history of Discworld there are many individual stories, which can be read in any order, but reading them in sequence can increase your enjoyment through the accumulation of all the fine detail that contributes to the teeming imaginative complexity of this brilliantly conceived world.
Have you read them all?
1. THE COLOUR OF MAGIC
2. THE LIGHT FANTASTIC
3. EQUAL RITES
4. MORT
5. SOURCERY
6. WYRD SISTERS
7. PYRAMIDS
8. GUARDS! GUARDS!
9. ERIC (illustrated by Josh Kirby)
10. MOVING PICTURES
11. REAPER MAN
12. WITCHES ABROAD
13. SMALL GODS
14. LORDS AND LADIES
15. MEN AT ARMS
16. SOUL MUSIC
17. INTERESTING TIMES
18. MASKERADE
19. FEET OF CLAY
20. HOGFATHER
21. JINGO
22. THE LAST CONTINENT
23. CARPE JUGULUM
24. THE FIFTH ELEPHANT
25. THE TRUTH
26. THIEF OF TIME
27. THE LAST HERO (illustrated by Josh Kirby)
28. THE AMAZING MAURICE & HIS EDUCATED RODENTS (for younger readers)
29. NIGHT WATCH
30. THE WEE FREE MEN (for younger readers)
31. MONSTROUS REGIMENT
32. A HAT FULL OF SKY (for younger readers)
33. GOING POSTAL
34. THUD!
35. WINTERSMITH (for younger readers)
36. MAKING MONEY
37. UNSEEN ACADEMICALS
38. I SHALL WEAR MIDNIGHT (for younger readers)
THE SCIENCE OF DISCWORLD (with Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen)
THE SCIENCE OF DISCWORLD II: THE GLOBE (with Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen)
THE SCIENCE OF DISCWORLD III: DARWIN’S WATCH (with Ian Stewart and Jack Cohen)
THE NEW DISCWORLD COMPANION (with Stephen Briggs)
NANNY OGG’S COOKBOOK (with Stephen Briggs, Tina Hannan and Paul Kidby)
THE PRATCHETT PORTFOLIO (with Paul Kidby)
THE DISCWORLD ALMANAK (with Bernard Pearson)
THE UNSEEN UNIVERSITY CUT-OUT BOOK (with Alan Batley and Bernard Pearson)
WHERE’S MY COW? (illustrated by Melvyn Grant)
THE ART OF DISCWORLD (with Paul Kidby)
THE WIT AND WISDOM OF DISCWORLD (compiled by Stephen Briggs)