The Fifth Elephant

'We've been having a lovely run in the woods, dear,' he said. 'Now please come here, because I think we're going to see the King. And I'm going to tell him everything. I've worked it out at last.'

'The dwarfs will kill you,' said the Baroness.

'I can probably outrun a dwarf,' said Vimes. 'And now we're leaving. Angua?'

Angua hadn't moved. Her eyes were still fixed on her mother, and she was still growling.

Vimes recognized the signs. You spotted them in the bars of Ankh-Morpork every Saturday night. Hackles rose, and people climbed up them, and then all that was needed was for someone to break a bottle. Or blink.

'We are leaving, Angua,' he repeated. The other werewolves were standing up and stretching.

Carrot reached out and took her arm. She turned, snarling. It was over in a fraction of a second, and in reality her head had hardly moved before she got a grip on herself.

'Sor thiz iz the boy?' said the Baroness, her voice slurring. 'You betrrray yourrr people for thizz?'

Her ears were lengthening, Vimes was sure. The muscles in her face were moving strangely, too.

'And what else hass Ankh-Morrporrk taught you?'

Angua shuddered. 'Self-control,' she muttered. 'Let's go, Mister Vimes.'

The werewolves closed in as they backed towards the steps.

'Don't turn your back,' said Angua levelly. 'Don't run.'

'Don't need telling,' said Vimes. He was watching Wolfgang, who was moving obliquely across the floor, his eyes fixed on the retreating party.

They'll have to bunch up to follow us through the doorway, he thought. He glanced at Detritus. The giant crossbow was weaving back and forth as the troll tried to keep all the wolves in the field of fire.

'Fire it,' said Angua.

'But they're your family!' said Sybil.

'They'll heal soon enough, believe me!'

'Detritus, don't shoot unless you have to,' Vimes ordered, as they headed towards the drawbridge.

'He has to now,' said Angua. 'Sooner or later Wolfgang will leap, and the others will take—'

'There's something you ought to know, sir,' said Cheery. 'You really ought to know it, sir. It's really important.'

Vimes looked across the drawbridge. Figures massed in the dark: Torchlight glinted off armour and weaponry, blocking the way.

'Well, things couldn't get any worse,' he said.

'Oh, they could if there were snakes on here with us,' said Lady Sybil.

Carrot turned at the sound of Vimes's snort of laughter.

'Sir?'

'Oh, nothing, captain. Keep your eyes on the bastards, will you? We can deal with the soldiers later.'

'Just say the word, sir,' said Detritus.

'You arrre trrapped now,' snarled the Baroness. 'Watchman! Do yourr duty!'

A figure was walking across the bridge, carrying a torch. Captain Tantony reached Vimes and glared at him.

'Stand aside, sir,' he said. 'Stand aside, or by gods, ambassador or not, I'll arrest you!'

Their eyes met. Then Vimes looked away.

'Let's let him through,' he said. 'The man's decided he's got a duty to do.'

Tantony nodded slightly and then marched on across the bridge until he was a few feet from the Baroness. He saluted.

'Take these people away!' she said.

'Lady Serafine von Uberwald?' said Tantony woodenly.

'You know who I am, man!'

'I wish to talk to you concerning certain charges made in my presence.'

Vimes closed his eyes. Oh, you poor dumb idiot... I didn't mean you to actually—

'You what?' said the Baroness.

'It has been alleged, my lady, that a member or members of your family have been involved in a conspiracy to—'

'How darrre you!' screamed Serafine.

And Wolfgang leapt, and the future became a series of flickering images.

In mid-air he changed into a wolf.

Vimes grabbed the bottom of Detritus's bow and forced it upwards at the same time as the troll pulled the trigger.

Carrot was running before Wolfgang landed on Captain Tantony's chest.

The sound of the bow echoed around the castle, above the noise of a thousand whirring fragments scything through the sky.

Carrot reached Wolfgang in a flat dive. He hit the wolf with his shoulder, and the two of them were bowled over.

Then, like some moving magic lantern show coming back up to speed, the scene exploded.

Carrot got to his feet and—

It must be because we're abroad, thought Vimes. He's trying to do things properly.

He'd squared up to the werewolf, fists balled, a stance taken straight from Fig. l of The Noble Art of Fisticuffs, which looked impressive right up to the point when your opponent broke your nose with a quart mug.

Carrot had a punch like an iron bar, and he landed a couple of heavy blows on Wolfgang as he got up.

The werewolf seemed more puzzled than hurt. Then he changed shape, caught a fist in both hands and gripped it hard. To Vimes's horror he stepped forward, without apparent effort, forcing Carrot back.

'Don't try anything, Angua,' said Wolf, grinning happily. 'Or else I'll break his arm. Oh, perhaps I'll break his arm anyway! Yes!'

Vimes even heard the crack. Carrot went white. Someone holding a broken arm has all the control they need. Another idiot, thought Vimes. When they're down you don't let them get back up! Damn the Marquis of Fantailler! Policing by consent was a good theory, but you had to get your opponent to lie still first.

'Ah! And he has other bones!' said Wolfgang, pushing Carrot away. He glanced towards Angua. 'Get back, get back. Or I'll hurt him some more! No, I shall hurt him some more anyway!'

Then Carrot kicked him in the stomach.

Wolfgang went over backwards, but turned this into a backflip and a mid-air spin. He landed lightly, leapt back at the astonished Carrot and punched him twice in the chest.

The blows sounded like shovels hitting wet concrete.

Wolfgang grabbed the falling man, lifted him over his head with one hand and hurled him down on to the bridge in front of Angua. 'Civilized man!' he shouted. 'Here he is, sister!'

Vimes heard a sound down beside him. Gavin was watching intently, making urgent little noises in his throat. A tiny part of Vimes, the little rock-hard core of cynicism, thought: all right for you, then.

Steam was rising off Wolfgang. He shone in the torchlight. The blond hair across his shoulders gleamed like a slipped halo.

Angua knelt down by the body, face impassive. Vimes had been expecting a scream of rage.

He heard her crying.

Beside Vimes, Gavin whined. Vimes stared down at the wolf. He looked at Angua trying to lift Carrot, and then he looked at Wolfgang. And then back again.

'Anyone else?' said Wolfgang, dancing back and forth on the boards. 'How about you, Civilized?'

'Sam!' hissed Sybil. 'You can't—'

Vimes drew his sword. It wouldn't make any difference now. Wolfgang wasn't playing now, he wasn't punching and running away. Those arms could push a fist through Vimes's ribcage and out the other side.