Стража! Стража!

           Therewasaclinkoverbythedrain.Halfadozenratsappeared,draggingsomethingwrappedinacloth.Theyrathandleditpastthegrilleand,withgreateffort,hauledittothePatrician’sfeet.Heleaneddownandundidtheknot.

           "Weseemtohavecheese,chickenlegs,celery,apieceofratherstalebreadandanicebottle,oh,anicebottleapparentlyofMerckleandStingbat’sVeryFamousBrownSauce.Beer,Isaid,Skrp."Theleadingrattwitcheditsnoseathim."Sorryaboutthis,Vimes.Theycan’tread,yousee.Theydon’tseemtogetthehangoftheconcept.Butthey’reverygoodatlistening.Theybringmeallthenews."

           "Iseeyou’reverycomfortablehere,"saidVimesweakly.

           "Neverbuildadungeonyouwouldn’tbehappytospendthenightinyourself,"saidthePatrician,layingoutthefoodonthecloth."Theworldwouldbeahappierplaceifmorepeoplerememberedthat."

           "Weallthoughtyouhadbuiltsecrettunnelsandsuchlike,"saidVimes.

           "Can’timaginewhy,"saidthePatrician."Onewouldhavetokeeponrunning.Soinefficient.WhereashereIamatthehubofthings.Ihopeyouunderstandthat,Vimes.Nevertrustanyrulerwhoputshisfaithintunnelsandbunkersandescaperoutes.Thechancesarethathisheartisn’tinthejob."

           "Oh."

           He’sinadungeoninhisownpalacewitharavinglunaticinchargeupstairs,andadragonburningthecity,andhethinkshe’sgottheworldwherehewantsit.Itmustbesomethingabouthighoffice.Thealtitudesendspeoplemad.