Someone behind it said 'Ow.'
The door opened a bit further to reveal a small clown covered in whitewash and custard.
ight, no-one panic, just stop what you're doing, stop what you're doing, please. I'm Corporal Nobbs, Ankh-Morpork City Ordnance Inspection City Audit—' The piece of paper was waved in front of the man's eyes at vision-blurring speed, and Nobby's voice faltered a bit as he contemplated the end of the sentence, '—Bureau . . . Special . . . Audit . . . Inspection. How many people work here?'
'Just me—'
Nobby pointed at the trolls.
'What about them?'
The man spat on the floor.
'Oh, I thought you said people.'
Carrot stuck out his hand automatically and it slammed against Detritus' breastplate.
'OK,' said Nobby, 'let's see what we've got here . . .' He walked fast along the racks, so that everyone else had to run to keep up. 'What's this?'
'Er—'
'Don't know, eh?'
'Sure . . . it's . . . it's . . .'
'A triple-stringed 2,000lb carriage-mounted siege crossbow with the double-action windlass?'
'Right.'
'Isn't this a Klatchian reinforced crossbow with the goat-leg cocking mechanism and the underhaft bayonet?'
'Er . . . yeah?'
Nobby gave it a cursory examination, and then tossed it aside.
The rest of the Night Watch looked on in astonishment. Nobby had never been known to wield any weapon beyond a knife.
'Have you got one of those Hershebian twelve-shot bows with the gravity feed?' he snapped.
'Eh? What you see is what we got, mister.'
Nobby pulled a hunting crossbow from its rack. His skinny arms twanged as he hauled on the cocking lever.
'Sold the bolts for this thing?'
'They're right there!'
Nobby selected one from the shelf and dropped it into its slot. Then he sighted along the shaft. He turned.
'I like this inventory,' said Nobby. 'We'll take it all.'
The man looked down the sights at Nobby's eye and, to Angua's horrified admiration, didn't faint.
'That little bow don't scare me,' he said.
'This little bow scare you?' said Nobby. 'No. Right. This is a little bow. A little bow like this wouldn't scare a man like you, because it's such a little bow. It'd need a bigger bow than this to scare a man like you.'
Angua would have given a month's pay to see the quartermaster's face from the front. She'd watched as Detritus had lifted down the siege bow, cocked it with one hand and a barely audible grunt, and stepped forward. Now she could imagine the eyeballs swivelling as the coldness of the metal penetrated the back of the armourer's fleshy red neck.