'Watchmen, sir.'
Vimes stared in puzzlement at the half-dozen assorted guards.
'Who're you?'
'Lance-Constable Hrolf Pyjama, sir.'
And y— Coalface?'
'I never done nuffin.'
'I never done nuffin, sah!' yelled Detritus.
'Coalface? In the Watch?'
Dink. 'Corporal Carrot says there's some good buried somewhere in everyone,' said Detritus.
And what's your job, Detritus.'
Dink. 'Engineer in charge of deep mining operations, sah!'
Vimes scratched his head.
'That was very nearly a joke, wasn't it?' he said.
'It this new helmet my mate Cuddy made me, sir. Hah! People can't say, there go stupid troll. They have to say, who that goodlooking military troll there, acting-constable already, great future behind him, he got Destiny written all over him like writing.'
Vimes digested this. Detritus beamed at him.
'And where is Sergeant Colon?'
'Here, Captain Vimes.'
'I need a best man, Fred.'
'Right, sir. I'll get Corporal Carrot. He's just checking the roofs—'
'Fred! I've known you more than twenty years! Good grief, all you have to do is stand there. Fred, you're good at that!'
Carrot appeared at the trot.
'Sorry I'm late, Captain Vimes. Er. We really wanted this to be a surprise—'
'What? What sort of surprise?'
Carrot fished in his pouch. 'Well, captain . . . on behalf of the Watch . . . that is, most of the Watch—'
'Hold on a minute,' said Colon, 'here comes his lordship.'
The clop of hooves and the rattle of harness signalled the approach of Lord Vetinari's carriage.
Carrot glanced around at it. Then he looked at it again. And looked up.
There was a glint of metal, on the roof of the Tower 'Sergeant, who's on the Tower?' he said.
'Cuddy, sir.'
'Oh. Right.' He coughed. 'Anyway, captain . . . we all clubbed together and—' He paused. 'Acting-Constable Cuddy, right?'