'Really, Nobby?' said Carrot.
'Had a special job, sir. Very responsible.'
'And what was that?'
'Quartermaster, sir,' said Nobby, saluting smartly.
'You were a quartermaster?' said Carrot. 'In whose army?'
'Duke of Pseudopolis, sir.'
'But Pseudopolis always lost its wars!'
'Ah . . . well . . .'
'Who did you sell the weapons to?'
'That's a slander, that is! They just used to spend a lot of time away for polishing and sharpening.'
'Nobby, this is Carrot talking to you. How much time, approximately?'
'Approximately? Oh. About a hundred per cent, if we're talking approximately, sir.'
'Nobby?'
'Sir?'
'You don't have to call me sir.'
'Yessir.'
In the end, Cuddy remained faithful to his axe, but added a couple more as an afterthought; Sergeant Colon chose a pike because the thing about a pike, the important thing, was that everything happened at the other end of it, i.e., a long way off; Lance-Constable Angua selected, without much enthusiasm, a short sword, and Corporal Nobbs—
—Corporal Nobbs was a kind of mechanical porcu- pine of blades, bows, points and knobbly things on the end of chains.
'You sure, Nobby?' said Carrot. 'There's nothing you want to leave?'
'It's so hard to choose, sir.'
Detritus was hanging on to his huge bow.
'That all you're taking, Detritus?'
'No sir! Taking Hint and Morraine, sir!'
The two trolls who had been working in the armoury had formed up behind Detritus.
'Swore 'em in, sir,' said Detritus. 'Used troll oath.'
Flint saluted amateurishly.
'He said he'd kick our goohuloog heads in if we didn't join up and do what we're told, sir,' he said.
'Very old troll oath,' said Detritus. 'Very famous, very traditional.'
'One of 'em could carry the Klatchian fire engine—' Nobby began hopefully.
'No, Nobby. Well . . . welcome to the Watch, men.'