Jingo

Vimes moved closer to the wali.

“Huthuthut?” he hissed. “You told me that it meant—”

“I thought it would prove a good example to all if you were in the lead,” Ahmed whispered. “The D'regs will always follow a man who is in a hurry for the fray.”

Lord Rust stepped out into the sunlight and glared at Vimes.

“Vimes? What the hell are you doing?”

“Not turning a blind eye, my lord.”

Vimes pushed past and into the shade. There was Prince Cadram, still seated. And there were a lot of armed men. These, he noted almost in passing, didn't have the look of ordinary soldiers. They had the much tougher look of loyal bodyguards.

“So,” said the Prince, “you come in here armed, under a flag of peace?”

“Are you Prince Cadram?” said Vimes.

“And you, too, Ahmed?” said the Prince, ignoring Vimes.

Ahmed nodded, and said nothing.

Oh, not now, thought Vimes. Tough as leather and vicious as a wasp, but now he's in the presence of his king…

“You're under arrest,” he said.

The Prince made a little sound between a cough and a laugh.

“I'm what?”

“I am arresting you for conspiracy to murder your brother. And there may be other charges.”

The Prince put his hands over his face for a moment and then pulled them down towards his chin, in the action of a tired man endeavouring to come to grips with a dying situation.

“Mr—?” he began.

“Sir Samuel Vimes, Ankh-Morpork City Watch,” said Vimes.

“Well, Mr Samuel, when I raise my hand the men behind me will cut you d—”

“I will kill the first man that moves,” said Ahmed.

“Then the second man that moves will kill you, traitor!” shouted the Prince.

“They'll have to move very fast,” said Carrot, drawing his sword.

“Any volunteers to be the third man?” said Vimes. “Anyone?”

General Ashal moved, but only very gently, holding up a hand. The bodyguards relaxed slightly.

“What was that… lie you uttered about a murder?” he said.

“Have you gone mad, Ashal?” said the Prince.

“Oh, sire, before I can disbelieve these pernicious lies, I do need to know what they are.”

“Vimes, you have gone insane,” said Rust. “You can't arrest the commander of an army!”

“Actually, Mr Vimes, I think we could,” said Carrot. “And the army, too. I mean, I don't see why we can't. We could charge them with behaviour likely to cause a breach of the peace, sir. I mean, that's what warfare is.”

Vimes's face split in a manic grin. “I like it.”

“But in fairness our — that is, the Ankh-Morpork army — are also—”

“Then you'd better arrest them too,” said Vimes. “Arrest the lot of 'em. Conspiracy to cause an affray,” he started to count on his fingers, “going equipped to commit a crime, obstruction, threatening behaviour, loitering with intent, loitering within tent, hah, travelling for the purposes of committing a crime, malicious lingering and carrying concealed weapons.”

“I don't think that one—” Carrot began.

“I can't see 'em,” said Vimes.

“Vimes, I order you to come to your senses this minute!” roared Lord Rust. “Have you been out in the sun?”

“That's one count of offensive behaviour to his lordship as well,” said Vimes.

The Prince was still staring at Vimes.

“You seriously think that you can arrest an army?” he said. “Perhaps you think you have a bigger army?”

“Don't need one,” said Vimes. “Power at a point, that's what Tacticus says. And here it's the one right on the end of Ahmed's crossbow. That wouldn't frighten a D'reg, but you… I reckon you don't think like them. Tell your men to stand down. I want the order to go out right now.”

“Even Ahmed would not shoot his prince in cold blood,” said Prince Cadram.

Vimes snatched the crossbow. “I wouldn't ask him to!” He took aim. “Give that order!”

The Prince stared at him.

“Count of three!” shouted Vimes.

General Ashal leaned down and whispered something to the Prince. The man's expression stiffened and he glanced back at Vimes again.

“That's right,” said Vimes. “It runs in the family.”

“It would be murder!”

“Would it? In wartime? I'm from Ankh-Morpork. Aren't I supposed to be at war with you? Can't be murder if there's a war on. That's written down somewhere.”

The general leaned down and whispered.

“One,” said Vimes.

Now there was a hurried argument.

“Two.”

“Myprincewishesmetosay—” the general began.

“All right, slow down,” said Vimes.

“If it makes you any happier, I will send out the order,” said the general. “Let the messengers leave.”

Vimes nodded and lowered the bow. The Prince shifted uneasily.

“And the Ankh-Morpork army will stand down as well,” said Vimes.

“But, Vimes, you're on our side—” Rust began.

“Bloody hell, I'm going to shoot someone today and it could just be you, Rust,” Vimes snarled.

“Sir?” Lieutenant Hornett tugged at his commander's jacket. “May I have a word?”

Vimes heard them whispering, and then the young man left.

“All right, we are all disarmed,” said Rust. “We are all ‘under arrest’. And now, commander?”

“I ought to read them their rights, sir,” said Carrot.

“What are you talking about?” said Vimes.

“The men out there, sir.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Do it, then.”

Oh gods, I arrested an entire battlefield, Vimes thought. And you can't do that.

But I've done it. And we've only got six cells back at the Yard, and we keep the coal in one of them.

You can't do it.

Was this the army that invaded your country, ma'am? No, officer, they were taller than that…

How about this one? I'm not sure — get them to march up and down a bit…

Carrot's voice could be heard outside, slightly muffled:

“Now… can you all hear me? You gentlemen in the back there? Anyone who can't hear me, please raise… all right, has anyone got a megaphone? Some cardboard I could roll up? In that case I'll shout…”

“What now?” said the Prince.

“I'm taking you back to Ankh-Morpork—”

“I don't think so. That would be an act of war.”

“You are making a mockery of the whole business, Vimes!” said Lord Rust.