Стража! Стража!

           LadyRamkinmadeherselfacupofcocoaandlistenedtotheraingurglinginthepipesoutside.

           Sheslippedoffthehateddancingshoes,whichevenshewaspreparedtoconcedewerelikeapairofpinkcanoes.Butnobblyessobligay,asthefunnylittlesergeantwouldsay,andasthelastrepresentativeofoneofAnkh-Morpork’soldestfamiliesshe’dhadtogotothevictoryballtoshowwilling.

           LordVetinariseldomhadballs.Therewasapopularsongaboutit,infact.Butnowitwasgoingtobeballsalltheway.

           Shecouldn’tstandballs.Forsheerenjoymentitwasn’tapatchonmuckingoutdragons.Youknewwhereyouwere,muckingoutdragons.Youdidn’tgethotandpinkandhavetoeatsillythingsonsticks,orwearadressthatmadeyoulooklikeacloudfullofcherubs.Littledragonsdidn’tgiveadamnwhatyoulookedlikesolongastherewasafeedingbowlinyourhands.

           Funny,really.She’dalwaysthoughtittookweeks,months,toorganiseaball.Invitations,decorations,sausagesonpoles,ghastlychickenymixturetoforceintothoselittlepastrycases.Butithadallbeendoneinamatterofhours,asifsomeonehadbeenexpectingit.Oneofthemiraclesofcatering,obviously.She’devendancedwiththe,forwantofabetterword,newking,whohadsaidsomepolitewordstoheralthoughtheyhadbeenrathermuffled.

           Andacoronationtomorrow.You’dhavethoughtit’dtakemonthstosortout.

           Shewasstillmusingonthatasshemixedthedragons’latenightfeedofrockoilandpeat,spikedwithflowersofsulphur.