Стража! Стража!

           No-onewaspayinghimmuchattentionatthemoment.

           Hestopped.

           Itwasn’tarock,becauseAnkh-Morporkwasonloam.Itwasjustsomehugeremnantofmortaredmasonry,probablythousandsofyearsold,fromsomewhereinthecityfoundations.Ankh-Morporkwassooldnowthatwhatitwasbuilton,byandlarge,wasAnkh-Morpork.

           Ithadbeendraggedintothecentreoftheplaza,andLadySybilRamkinhadbeenchainedtoit.Sheappearedtobewearinganightieandhugerubberboots.Bythelookofhershehadbeeninafight,andVimesfeltamomentarypangofsympathyforwhoeverelsehadbeeninvolved.Shegavehimalookofpurefury.

           "You!"

           "You!"

           Hewavedthecleavervaguely.

           "Butwhyyou-?"hebegan.

           "CaptainVimes,"shesaidsharply,"youwillobligemebynotwavingthatthingaboutandyouwillstartputtingittoitsproperuse!"

           Vimeswasn’tlistening.

           "Thirtydollarsamonth!"hemuttered."That’swhattheydiedfor!Thirtydollars!AndIdockedsomefromNobby.Ihadto,didn’tI?Imean,thatmancouldmakeamelongorusty!"

           "CaptainVimes!"

           Hefocusedonthecleaver.

           "Oh,"hesaid."Yes.Right!"

           Itwasagoodsteelcleaver,andthechainswereelderlyandratherrustyiron.Hehackedaway,raisingsparksfromthemasonry.

           Thecrowdwatchedinsilence,butseveralpalaceguardshurriedtowardshim.

           "Whatthehelldoyouthinkyou’redoing?"saidoneofthem,whodidn’thavemuchimagination.

           "Whatthehelldoyouthinkyou’redoing?"Vimesgrowled,lookingup.

           Theystaredathim.