The Fifth Elephant

'And what is this event?'

'We'm about to bait a wolf, y'honour.'

'Really? I myself own a wolfhound of unusual strength and prowess. May I test it against the creature?'

There was more mumbling among the bystanders, the general consensus being: why not? Anyway, there was that smile...

'Go ahead, y'honour,' said the deputy mayor.

Carrot stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled. The townspeople watched in astonishment as Gaspode walked out from between their legs and sat down. Then the laughter started.

It died away after a while, because the faint smile didn't.

'Is there a problem?' said Carrot.

'It'll get torn limb from limb!'

'Well? Do you care what happens to a wolf?'

Laughter broke out again. The deputy mayor had a feeling he was being got at.

'It's your dog, mister,' he said, shrugging.

The little dog barked.

'And to make it interesting we'll wager a pound of steak,' said Carrot.

The dog barked again.

'Two pounds of steak,' Carrot corrected himself.

'Oh, I reckon it's going to be interesting enough as it is,' said the deputy mayor. The smile was beginning to prey on his nerves. 'All right, boys, fetch the wolf!'

The creature was dragged into the ring of hurdles, slavering and snarling.

'No, don't tie it up,' said Carrot, as a man went to wrap the halter around a post.

'It'll get away if we don't.'

'It won't have a chance, believe me.'

They looked at the smile, dragged the muzzle from the wolf and leapt to safety.

'Now, just in case you were havin' second thoughts about our agreement,' said Gaspode to the wolf, 'I suggest you look at the face of the bloke on the horse, right?'

The wolf glanced up. It saw the wolverine smile on the face of the rider.

Gaspode barked. The wolf yelped and rolled over.

The crowd waited. And then:

'Is that it?'

'Yes, that's how it normally goes,' said Carrot. 'It's a special bark, you see. All the blood in the victim congeals in an instant, out of sheer terror.'

'It hasn't even worried the body!'

'What,' said Carrot, 'would be the point of that?'

He got down from the horse, pushed his way into the ring, picked up the body of the wolf and flung it across the saddle.

'It grunted! I heard it—' someone began.

'That was probably air being expressed from the corpse,' said Carrot. The smile still hadn't gone, and at that point it suggested very subtly that Carrot had heard the last gasp of hundreds of corpses.

'Yeah, that's right,' said a voice in the crowd. 'Everyone knows that. And now what about the steak for the brave little doggie?'

The people looked around to see who had said this. None of them looked down, because dogs can't talk.

'We can forgo the steak,' said Carrot, mounting up.

'No, w— No you can't,' said the voice. 'A deal's a deal. Who was risking their life here, that's what I'd like to know.'

'Come, Gaspode,' said Carrot.

Whining and grumbling, the little dog emerged from the crowd and trailed after the horse.

It wasn't until they were at the edge of the town square that one of the people said, 'Oh, what the hell happened there?' and the spell broke. But by then both horse and dog were travelling really, really fast.

Vimes hated and despised the privileges of rank, but they had this to be said for them: at least they meant that you could hate and despise them in comfort.

Willikins would arrive at an inn an hour before Vimes's coach and, with an arrogance that Vimes would never dare employ, take over several rooms and install Vimes's own cook in the kitchen. Vimes complained about this to Inigo.

'But you see, your grace, you're not here as an individual but as Ankh-Morpork. When people look at you, they see the city, mhm, mhm.'

'They do? Should I stop washing?'

'That is very droll, sir. But you see, sir, you and the city are one. Mhm, mhm. If you are insulted, Ankh- Morpork is insulted. If you befriend, Ankh-Morpork befriends.'

'Really? What happens when I go to the lavatory?'

'That's up to you, sir. Mmhm, mmph.'

At breakfast next morning Vimes sliced the top off a boiled egg, thinking: this is Ankh-Morpork slicing the top off a boiled egg. If I cut my toast into soldiers we're probably at war.

Corporal Littlebottom entered carefully and saluted.

'Your message came back, sir,' she said, handing him a scrap of paper. 'From Sergeant Stronginthearm. I've deciphered it for you. Er... the Scone from the Museum's been found, sir.'

'Well, that's the other shoe dropped,' said Vimes. 'I was worried there for a moment.'

'Er, in fact Constable Shoe is bothered about it,' said Cheery. 'It's 'a bit hard to follow what he says, but he seems to think someone made a copy of it.'

'What, a fake of a fake? What good's that?'

'I really couldn't say, sir. Your other... surmise was correct.'

Vimes glanced at the paper. 'Hah. Thanks, Cheery. We'll be down shortly.'

'You're humming, Sam,' said Sybil, after a while. 'That means something awful is going to happen to somebody.'

'Wonderful thing, technology,' said Vimes, buttering a slice of toast. 'I can see it has its uses.'

'And when you grin in that shiny sort of way it means that someone's playing silly buggers and doesn't know you've just thrown a six.'

'I don't know what you mean, dear. It's probably the country air agreeing with me.'

Lady Sybil put down her teacup. 'Sam?'

'Yes, dear?'

'This is probably not the best time to mention it, but you know I told you I went to see old Mrs Content? Well, she says—'

There was another knock at the door. Lady Sybil sighed.

This time it was Inigo who entered.

'We should be leaving, your grace, if you don't mind. I would like us to be at Slake by lunchtime and through the pass at Wilinus before dark, mhm, mhm.'

'Do we have to rush so?' sighed Sybil.

'The pass is... slightly dangerous,' said Inigo. 'Somewhat lawless. Mhm, mhm.'

'Only somewhat?' said Vimes.

'I will just feel happier when it is behind us,' said Inigo. 'It would be a good idea if the second coach follows, us closely and your men stay alert, your grace.'

'They teach you tactics in Lord Vetinari's political office, do they, Inigo?' said Vimes.

'Just common sense, mhm, mhm, sir.'

'Why don't we wait until tomorrow before attempting the pass?'

'With respect, your grace, I suggest not. For one thing, the weather is worsening. And I'm sure we're being watched. We must demonstrate that there is no yellow in the Ankh-Morpork flag, mhm, mhm.'