The Fifth Elephant

Nobby and Colon appeared again, breathless and pink. There were a few bits of tissue stuck on Colon's face where the shaving had been too enthusiastic, but he was nevertheless looking better. He was a sergeant again. Someone was giving him orders. His brain was moving. The world was the right side up once more.

'Fred?' said Carrot.

'Yessir?'

'You've got a bit of bird doings on your shoulder.'

'I'll see to that right now, sir!' said Nobby, leaping sideways. He dragged a handkerchief from his pocket, spat on it, and rubbed hurriedly at Colon's temporary pip. 'All gone now, Fred!' he said.

'Well done,' said Carrot.

He got up and went over to the window. It did not, in fact, offer much in the way of a view. But he looked out of it as if he could see to the end of the world.

Colon and Nobby shifted uneasily. Right now they did not like the sound of silence. When Carrot did speak they blinked as if struck in the face by a cold flannel.

'What I believe there has been here,' he said, 'is a confused situation.'

'That's right, that's right,' said Nobby quickly. 'We was very confused. Fred?'

He jabbed Fred Colon with his elbow, waking him from a reverie of terror.

'Uh? Oh. Right. Oh, yeah. Confusion,' he mumbled.

'And I'm afraid I know where the blame ultimately lies,' Carrot went on, still apparently engrossed in the spectacle of a man sweeping the Opera House steps.

In the silence Nobby's lips moved in prayer. Only the whites of Fred Colon's eyes could be seen.

'It was my fault,' said Carrot. 'I blame myself: Mister Vimes left me in charge, and I rushed off with no thought of my duty and put everyone in an impossible position.'

Fred and Nobby were both wearing the same expression. It was the face of a man who has seen the light at the end of the tunnel and it has turned out to be the twinkle of the Fairy of Hope.

'I feel almost embarrassed to ask you two to get me out of this pit I have dug for myself,' said Carrot. 'I can't imagine what Mister Vimes is going to say.'

The light at the end of the tunnel winked out for Fred and Nobby. They could imagine what Mister Vimes would say.

'However,' said Carrot. He returned to the desk and pulled open the bottom drawer, extracting a few grubby pages that were clipped together.

They waited.

'However, each of these men took the King's Shilling and swore an oath to defend the King's Peace,' said Carrot, tapping the paper. 'An oath, in fact, to the King.'

'Yeah, but that was only—aargh!' said Fred Colon.

'Sorry, sir,' said Nobby. 'I inadvertently trod heavily on Fred's toe while standing to attention.'

There was a long-drawn-out silken sound. Carrot was drawing his sword from its sheath. He laid it on the desk. Nobby and Colon leaned away from its accusatory point.

'They are all good lads,' said Carrot softly. 'I'm sure if the two of you call on each and every one of them and explain the situation, they will see where their duty lies. Tell them... tell them there is always an easy way, if you know where to look. And then we can get on with our jobs, and when Mister Vimes returns from his well-earned holiday the somewhat confused events of the past will be merely—'

'Confusin'?' suggested Nobby, hopefully.

'Exactly,' said Carrot. 'But I'm glad to see you made so much headway with the paperwork, Fred.'

Colon stood nailed to the spot until Nobby, saluting desperately with the other hand, dragged him out of the office.

Angua could hear them arguing all the way down the stairs.

Carrot stood up, dusted off the chair and placed it carefully under the desk.

'Well, we're home,' he said.

'Yes,' said Angua, and she thought: you do know how to do nasty, don't you? But you use it like a claw; it slides out when you need it, and when you don't there's no sign that it's there. He reached over and took her hand. 'Wolves never look back,' he whispered.

The End

Not rock and iron in their dead form, as they are now, but living rock and iron. The dwarfs have quite an inventive mythology about minerals.

Vampires evolve long names. It's something to do to pass the long years.

At least, of the sort she normally wore.

And, just lately, Corporal Nobbs.

They couldn't bring themselves to utter the word 'her'.

At least by proper explorers. Just living there doesn't count.

At least, if you hit them hard enough.

Especially if it was green, and bubbled.

Except that the ones around it were not good stones to tread on if it was a Tuesday.

As a member of the dead community Reg Shoe naturally thought of himself as an ethnic majority.

Miles and Miles of Bloody Uberwald.

One that no other creature in the world would ever adopt.

After all, this made it so much harder for the hand to feed you tomorrow.

Detritus's silicon-based brain was, as with most trolls, highly sensitive to changes in temperature. When the thermometer was very low he could be dangerously intellectual.

A kind of pastry made from curtains.

Buckwheat dumplings stuffed with stuff.