Стража! Стража!

           Hiseyesswivelledbackandforthintheirsockets,liketworodentstryingtofindawayout."Can’taffordtobewithoutit,"hehissed."Anti-dragoncream.Personalguarantee:ifyou’reincineratedyougetyourmoneyback,noquibble."

           "Whatyou’resaying,"saidVimesslowly,"ifIunderstandthewordingcorrectly,isthatifIambakedalivebythedragonyou’llreturnthemoney?"

           "Uponpersonalapplication,"saidCut-me-own-Throat.HeunscrewedthelidfromajarofvividgreenointmentandthrustitunderVimes’snose."Madefromoverfiftydifferentrarespicesandherbstoarecipeknownonlytoabunchofancientmonkswhatliveonsomemountainsomewhere.Onedollarajar,andI’mcuttingmyownthroat.It’sapublicservice,really,"headdedpiously.

           "You’vegottohandittothoseancientmonks,brewingitupsoquickly,"saidVimes.

           "Cleverbuggers,"agreedCut-me-own-Throat."Itmustbeallthatmeditationandyakyogurt."

           "Sowhat’shappening,Throat?"saidVimes."Who’realltheguyswiththebigswords?"

           "Dragonhunters,Cap’n.ThePatricianannouncedarewardoffiftythousanddollarstoanyonewhobringshimthedragon’shead.Notattachedtothedragon,either;he’snofool,thatman."

           "What?"

           "That’swhathesaid.It’sallwrittenonposters."

           "Fiftythousanddollars!"

           "Notchickenfeed,eh?"

           "Morelikedragonfodder,"saidVimes.It’dbringtrouble,youmarkhiswords."I’mamazedyou’renotgrabbingaswordandjoiningin."