Стража! Стража!

           Hepulledthebowstringbacktohisear,andgrunted.

           "Right,"hewheezed,ashisarmtrembledwiththetensionlikeabranchinagale."SeetheroofoftheAssassins’Guildoverthere?"Theypeeredthroughthegrubbyair.

           "Right,then,"saidColon."Anddoyouseetheweathervaneonit?Doyouseeit?"

           Carrotglancedatthearrowhead.Itwasweavingbackandforthinaseriesoffigure-eights.

           "It’salongwayoff,Sarge,"saidNobbydoubtfully.

           "Neveryoumindme,youkeepyoureyesontheweathervane,"groanedthesergeant.

           Theynodded.Theweathervanewasintheshapeofacreepingmanwithabigcloak;hisoutstretcheddaggerwasalwaysturnedtostabthewind.Atthisdistance,though,itwastiny.

           "Okay,"pantedColon."Now,d’youseetheman’seye?"

           "Oh,comeon,"saidNobby.

           "Shutup,shutup,shutup!"groanedColon."Doyouseeit,Isaid!"

           "IthinkIcanseeit,Sarge,"saidCarrotloyally.

           "Right.Right,"saidthesergeant,swayingbackwardsandforwardswitheffort."Right.Goodlad.Okay.Nowkeepaneyeonit,right?"

           Hegrunted,andloosedthearrow.

           Severalthingshappenedsofastthattheywillhavetoberecountedinstop-motionprose.ProbablythefirstwasthebowstringslappingintothesoftinnerpartofColon’swrist,causinghimtoscreamanddropthebow.Thishadnoeffectonthepathofthearrow,whichwasalreadyflyingstraightandtruetowardsagargoyleontherooftopjustacrosstheroad.