'Um. Because it's my badge.'
'But you're resigning anyway when you get married.'
'Right.'
Their eyes met.
'How much does it mean to you?'
Vimes stared. He couldn't find the right words. It was just that he'd always been a man with a badge. He wasn't sure he could be one without the other.
Finally Lord Vetinari said: 'Very well. I believe you're getting married at noon tomorrow.' His long fingers picked up the gilt-embossed invitation from the desk 'Yes. You can keep your badge, then. And have an honourable retirement. But I'm keeping the sword. And the Day Watch will be sent down to the Yard shortly to disarm your men. I'm standing the Night Watch down, Captain Vimes. In due course I might appoint another man in charge – at my leisure. Until then, you and your men can consider yourselves on leave.'
'The Day Watch? A bunch of—'
'I'm sorry?'
'Yes, sir.'
'One infraction, however, and the badge is mine. Remember.'
Cuddy opened his eyes.
'You're alive?' said Detritus.
The dwarf gingerly removed his helmet. There was a gouge in the rim, and his head ached.
'It looks like a mild skin abrasion,' said Detritus.
'A what? Ooooh.' Cuddy grimaced. 'What about you, anyway?' he said. There was something odd about the troll. It hadn't quite dawned on him what it was, but there was definitely something unfamiliar, quite apart from all the holes.
'I suppose the armour was some help,' said Detritus. He pulled at the straps of his breastplate. Five discs of slid out at around belt level. 'If it hadn't slowed down I'd be seriously abraded.'
'What's up with you? Why are you talking like that?'
'Lake what, pray?'
'What happened to the “me big troll” talk? No offence meant.'
'I'm not sure I understand.'
Cuddy shivered, and stamped his feet to keep warm.
'Let's get out of here.'
They trotted to the door. It was shut fast.
'Can you knock it down?'
'No. If this place wasn't troll proof, it'd be empty. Sorry.'
'Detritus?'
'Yes?'
Are you all right? Only there's steam coming off your head.'
'I do feel . . . er . . .'