Стража! Стража!

           Thesundefinitelyhadthelookofaheavenlybodythatwasnearlyatthecrestofitsorbitandlookingforwardtoalong,lazycoastingtowardstheblanketsofdusk...

           "I’mnotbloodywellgoingtohaveit,understand?"Vimesshouted,shakingtheapebackandforth.

           "Oook,"theLibrarianpointedout,patiently.

           "What?Oh.Sorry."Vimesloweredtheape,whowiselydidn’tmakeanissueofitbecauseamanangryenoughtolift300lbsoforangutanwithoutnoticingisamanwithtoomuchonhismind.

           Nowhewasstaringaroundthecourtyard.

           "Anywayoutofhere?"hesaid."Withoutclimbingthewalls,Imean."

           Hedidn’twaitforananswerbutlopedaroundthewallsuntilhereachedanarrow,grubbydoor,andkickeditopen.Ithadn’tbeenlockedanyway,buthekickeditjustthesame.TheLibrariantrailedalongbehind,swingingonhisknuckles.

           Thekitchenontheothersideofthedoorwasalmostdeserted,thestaffhavingfinallylosttheirnerveanddecidedthatallprudentchefsrefrainedfromworkinginanestablishmentwheretherewasamouthbiggerthantheywere.Acoupleofpalaceguardswereeatingacoldlunch.

           "Now,"saidVimes,astheyhalf-rose,"Idon’twanttohaveto-"

           Theydidn’tseemtowanttolisten.Oneofthemreachedforacrossbow.

           "Oh,thehellwithit."Vimesgrabbedabutcher’sknifefromablockbesideitandthrewit.

           Thereisanartinthrowingknivesand,eventhen,youneedtherightkindofknife.Otherwiseitdoesjustwhatthisonedid,whichismisscompletely.