The Fifth Elephant

His progress was a little faster, since the falling werewolf had removed a lot of branches on the way down, but the landing was softer because the werewolf was just getting to its feet.

Vimes's flailing hand grabbed a broken branch.

A weapon.

Thought more or less stopped when his fingers closed. Whatever replaced it in the pathways of his brain was gushing up from somewhere else, thousands of years old.

The werewolf struggled up and turned on him. The branch caught it across the side of the head.

Steam rose off Sir Samuel Vimes as he lurched forward, snarling incoherently. He smacked the club down again. He roared. There were no words there. It was a sound from before words. If there was any meaning in it at all it was a lament that he couldn't cause enough pain...

The wolf whined, stumbled, rolled over... and changed.

The human extended a bleeding hand towards him in supplication. 'Ple-ease...'

Vimes hesitated, club raised.

The red rage drained away. He was on a freezing hillside against a cold sunset, and they'd left him alone, and he might just make it to the tower...

In one movement, changing from man to wolf as it moved, the werewolf sprang. Vimes went backwards into the snow. He could feel the breath and the blood, but not the pain

No talons ripped, no teeth tore.

And the weight was lifted. Hands pulled the body off him.

'Bit of a close one there, sir,' said a voice cheerfully. 'Best not to give them any quarter, really.' There was a spear right through the werewolf.

'Carrot?'

'We'll get a fire going. It's easy if you dip the wood in the fat springs first.'

'Carrot?'

'I shouldn't think you've eaten. There's not much game this close to the town, but we've still got some—'

'Carrot?'

'Er, yes, sir?'

'What the hell are you doing here?'

'It's all a bit complicated, sir. Here, let me help you up—'

Vimes shook him off as he tried to help him to his feet.

'I got this far, thank you, I think I'm capable of standing up,' he said, and forced his legs to support him.

'You seem to have lost your trousers, sir.'

'Yes, it's the famous Ankh-Morpork sense of humour,' growled Vimes.

'Only... Angua will be back soon, and... and...'

'Sergeant Angua's family, captain, are in the habit of running around the woods in the snow stark bol—stark naked!'

'Yes, sir, but... I mean... you know... it's not really...'

'I'll give you five minutes to find a clothes shop, shall I? Otherwise— Look, where the hell are all the werewolves, eh? I was expecting to drop into a heap of snarling jaws, and now you're here, thank you very much, and there's no werewolves!'

'Gavin's people chased them away, sir. You must've heard the howl go up.'

'Gavin's people, eh? Well, that's good! That's very good! I'm pleased about that! Well done, Gavin! Now, who the hell is Gavin?'

A howl went up from a distant hill.

'That's Gavin,' said Carrot.

'A wolf? Gavin's a wolf? I've been saved from werewolves by wolves?'

'It's all right, sir. When you think about it, it's not really any different from being saved from werewolves by people.'

'When I think about it, I think perhaps I was better off lying down,' said Vimes weakly.

'Let's get to the sleigh, sir. I was trying to say we have got your clothes. That's how Angua tracked you.'

Ten minutes later Vimes was sitting in front of a fire with a blanket around him, and the world seemed to make a little more sense. A slice of venison was going down well, and Vimes was far too hungry to bother much that the butcher appeared to have used his teeth.

'The wolves spy on the werewolves?' he said.

'Sort of, sir. Gavin keeps an eye on things for Angua. They're... old friends.'

The moment of silence went on just slightly too long.

'He sounds like a very bright wolf,' said Vimes, in the absence of anything more diplomatic to say.

'More than that. Angua thinks he might be part werewolf, from way back.'

'Can that happen?'

'She says so. Did I tell you that he came all the way into Ankh-Morpork? A big city? Can you imagine what that must have been like?'

Vimes turned at a faint sound behind him.

A large wolf was standing at the edge of the firelight. It was looking at him intently. It wasn't just the look of an animal sizing him up on the level of food/threat/thing. Behind that stare wheels were turning. And there was a small but rather proud mongrel at his side, scratching furiously.

'Is that Gaspode?' said Vimes. 'The dog that's always hanging around the Watch House?'

'Yes, he... helped me get here,' said Carrot.

'I just don't want to ask,' said Vimes. 'Any minute now a door's going to open in a tree and Fred and Nobby are going to step out, am I right?'

'I hope not, sir.'

Gavin lay down a short distance from the fire and started watching Carrot.

'Captain?' said Vimes.

'Yes, sir?'

'You'll notice I haven't pressed you on why you're here as well as Angua.'

'Yes, sir.'