Стража! Стража!

           Perhapsitwassomethingtodowithdoingitbythebook.

           Therewasaclang.Notaparticularlyloudone.Hefeltsomethingbrightandsilverwhirrpasthisearandstrikethewall.

           Wonse’smouthfellopen.Hedroppedtheremnantofhisswordandbackedaway,clutchingTheSummoning.

           "You’llbesorry,"hehissed."You’llallbeverysorry!"

           Hestartedtomumbleunderhisbreath.

           Vimesfelthimselftrembling.Hewasprettycertainheknewwhathadzingedpasthishead,andthemerethoughtwasmakinghishandssweat.He’dcometothepalacereadytokillandthere’dbeenthisminute,justthisminute,whenforoncetheworldhadseemedtobeoperatingproperlyandhewasinchargeofitandnow,nowallhewantedwasadrink.Andaniceweek’ssleep.

           "Oh,giveup!"hesaid."Areyougoingtocomequietly?"

           Themumblingwenton.Theairbegantofeelhotanddry.

           Vimesshrugged."That’sit,then,"hesaid,andturnedaway."Throwthebookathim,Carrot."

           "Right,sir."

           Vimesrememberedtoolate.

           Dwarfshavetroublewithmetaphors.

           Theyalsohaveaverygoodaim.

           TheLawsandOrdinancesofAnkhandMorporkcaughtthesecretaryontheforehead.Heblinked,staggered,andsteppedbackwards.

           Itwasthelongeststepheevertook.Foronething,itlastedtherestofhislife.

           Afterseveralsecondstheyheardhimhit,fivestoreysbelow.

           Afterseveralmoresecondstheirfacesappearedovertheedgeoftheravagedfloor.

           "Whatawaytogo,"saidSergeantColon.

           "That’safact,"saidNobby,reachinguptohisearforadog-end.