Стража! Стража!

           Hewasstillholdingtheersatzcrowninonehand.

           Vimeswatchedtheoldmanlookupwardsintoacoupleofglowingredeyesafewfeetaway.

           "Candragonsreadminds?"whisperedVimes.

           "I’msuremineunderstandeverywordIsay,"hissedLadyRamkin."Oh,no!Thesillyoldfoolisgivingitthecrown!"

           "Butisn’tthatasmartmove?"saidVimes."Dragonslikegold.It’slikethrowingastickforadog,isn’tit?"

           "Ohdear,"saidSybilRamkin."Itmightnot,youknow.Dragonshavesuchsensitivemouths."

           Thegreatdragonblinkedatthetinycircleofgold.

           Then,withextremedelicacy,itextendedonemetre-longclawandhookedthethingoutofthepriest’stremblingfingers.

           "Whatd’youmean,sensitive?"saidVimes,watchingtheclawtravelslowlytowardsthelong,horse-likeface.

           "Areallyincrediblesenseoftaste.They’reso,well,chemicallyorientated."

           "Youmeanitcanprobablytastegold?"whisperedVimes,watchingthecrownbeingcarefullylicked.

           "Oh,certainly.Andsmellit."

           Vimeswonderedwhatthechanceswereofthecrownbeingmadeofgold.Nothigh,hedecided.Goldfoilovercopper,perhaps.Enoughtofoolhumanbeings.Andthenhewonderedwhatsomeone’sreactionwouldbeiftheywereofferedsugarwhichturnedout,onceyou’dputthreespoonfulsinyourcoffee,tobesalt.

           Thedragonremovedtheclawfromitsmouthinonegracefulmovementandcaughtthehighpriest,whowasjustsneakingaway,ablowwhichknockedhimhighintotheair.