“You are removed from authority, commander. And the Watch will come under the direct command of this council. Is that understood?”
Rust turned to Carrot. “Captain Carrot, many of us here have heard… good reports about you, and by due authority I hereby appoint you acting Commander of the Watch—”
Vimes shut his eyes.
Carrot saluted smartly. “No! Sir!”
Vimes opened his eyes wide.
“Really?” Rust stared at Carrot for a few moments, and then gave a little shrug.
“Ah, well… loyalty is a fine thing. Sergeant Colon?”
“Sir!”
“In the circumstances, and since you are the most experienced noncommissioned officer and have an exemp— and have a military record, you will take command of the Watch for the duration of the… emergency.”
“Nossir!”
“That was an instruction, sergeant.”
Beads of sweat began to form on Colon's brow. “Nossir!”
“
“You can put it where the sun does not shine, sir!” said Colon desperately.
Once again, Vimes saw Rust's milky-blue stare. Rust never looked surprised. And since he knew that a mere sergeant would never dare offer cheeky defiance, he erased Sergeant Colon from the immediate universe.
The gaze turned briefly to Detritus.
And he doesn't know how to speak to a troll, Vimes thought. And he was once again impressed, in the same dark way, by the manner in which Rust dealt with the problem. He dealt with it by making it not be there.
“Who is the senior corporal in the Watch, Sir Samuel?”
“That would be Corporal Nobbs.”
The committee went into a huddle. There was a rush of whispering, in which the words “—an absolute little
“And the next in seniority?”
“Let me see… that would be Corporal Stronginthearm,” said Vimes. He felt oddly light-headed.
“Perhaps
“He's a dwarf, you idiot!”
Not a muscle moved on Rust's face. There was a
“I don't have to take this,” Vimes said calmly.
“Oh, so you'd rather be a civilian, would you?”
“
Rust's brain erased the sounds that his ears could not possibly have heard.
“And the keys to the armoury, Sir Samuel,” he said.
They jangled as they landed on the table.
“And do the rest of you have any empty gestures to make?” said Lord Rust.
Sergeant Colon took his grimy badge out of his pocket and was a little disappointed that it didn't make a defiant tinkle when he threw it on the table but instead bounced and smashed the water jug.
“I got my badge carved on my arm,” Detritus rumbled. “Someone c'n try an' take it off if dey likes.”
Carrot laid his badge down very carefully.
Rust raised his eyebrows. “You too, captain?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I would have thought that
He stopped and looked up in annoyance as the doors opened. A couple of the palace guards ran in, with a group of Klatchians behind them.
The council got to their feet in a hurry.
Vimes recognized the Klatchian in the centre of the group. He'd seen him around at official functions and, if it hadn't been for the fact that the man was a Klatchian, would have marked him down as a shifty piece of work.
“Who's he?” he whispered to Carrot.
“Prince Kalif.{52} He's the deputy ambassador.”
“Another prince?”
The man came to a halt in front of the table, glanced at Vimes with no show of recognition and bowed to Lord Rust.
“Prince Kalif,” said Lord Rust. “Your arrival is unannounced but nevertheless—”
“I have grave news, my lord.” Even in his stunned state, a part of Vimes registered that the voice was different. Khufurah had learned his second language on the street, but this one had had tutors.
“At a time like this, what news isn't?” said Rust.
“There have been developments on the new land. Regrettable incidents. And indeed in Ankh-Morpork, too.” He glanced at Vimes again. “Although here, I must say, reports are confused. Lord Rust, I have to tell you we are, technically, at war.”
“
“I am afraid events are carrying us forward,” said Kalif. “The situation is delicate.”
They know they're going to fight, Vimes thought. This is just like the start of a dance, where you hang around looking at your partner…
“I must tell you that you are being given twelve hours to remove all your citizens from Leshp,” said Kalif. “If that is done, matters will be happily resolved. For the present.”
“Our response is that
Kalif bowed slightly. “We understand one another. A formal document will be with you shortly and, no doubt, we will be receiving one from you.”
“Indeed.”
“Here, hang on, you can't just—” Vimes began.
“Sir Samuel, you are no longer Commander of the Watch and you have no place at these proceedings,” said Rust sharply. He turned back to the Prince.
“It is unfortunate that things have come to this,” he said stiffly.
“Indeed. But there comes a time when words are no longer sufficient.”
“I must agree with you. And then it is time to test one's strength.”
Vimes stared in fascinated horror from one face to the other.
“We will, of course, allow you time to quit your embassy. Such of it as remains.”
“So kind. And of course we will extend to you the same courtesy.” Kalif bowed slightly.
So did Rust.
“After all, just because our countries are at war is no reason why we should not respect one another as friends,” said Lord Rust.
“What? Yes, it bloody well is!” said Vimes. “I can't
“War, Vimes, is a continuation of diplomacy by other means,”{53} said Lord Rust. “As you would know, if you were really a gentleman.”
“And you Klatchians are as bad,” Vimes went on. “It's that green mouldy mutton Jenkins sells. You've all got Foaming Sheep Disease.{54} You can't just stand there and—”
“Sir Samuel, you are, as you are at pains to point out, a civilian,” said Rust. “As such, you have no place here!”
Vimes didn't bother with a salute but just turned away and walked out of the room. The rest of the squad followed him in silence back to Pseudopolis Yard.
“I told him he could put it where the sun didn't shine,” said Sergeant Colon, as they crossed the Brass
