'It's just sitting there,' said Vimes hurriedly. 'Just looking around. As if it's waiting for something to happen.'
The dragon blinked with Jurassic patience.
The roads off the square were packed with people. That's the Ankh-Morpork instinct, Vimes thought. Run away, and then stop and see if anything interesting is going to happen to other people.
There was a movement in the wreckage near the dragon's front talon, and the High Priest of Blind Io staggered to his feet, dust and splinters cascading from his robes. He was still holding the ersatz crown in one hand.
Vimes watched the old man look upwards into a couple of glowing red eyes a few feet away.
'Can dragons read minds?' whispered Vimes.
'I'm sure mine understand every word I say,' hissed Lady Ramkin. 'Oh, no! The silly old fool is giving it the crown!'
'But isn't that a smart move?' said Vimes. 'Dragons like gold. It's like throwing a stick for a dog, isn't it?'
'Oh dear,' said Sybil Ramkin. 'It might not, you know. Dragons have such sensitive mouths.'
The great dragon blinked at the tiny circle of gold.
Вы читаете Guards! Guards!
