The Librarian thought about it. 'Oook,' he said.
'Oh. Really?' said Vimes.
It was the next day. The room was wall-to-wall with civic dignitaries. The Patrician sat on his severe chair, surrounded by the Council. Everyone present was wearing the shiny waxen grins of those bent on good works.
Lady Sybil Ramkin sat off to one side, wearing a few acres of black velvet. The Ramkin family jewels glittered on her fingers, neck and in the black curls of today's wig. The total effect was striking, like a globe of the heavens.
Vimes marched the rank to the centre of the hall and stamped to a halt with his helmet under his arm, as per regulations. He'd been amazed to see that even Nobby had made an effort — the suspicion of shiny metal could be seen here and there on his breastplate. And Colon was wearing an expression of almost constipated importance. Carrot's armour gleamed.
Colon ripped off a textbook salute for the first time in his life.
'All present and correct, sah!' he barked.
'Very good, Sergeant,' said Vimes coldly. He turned to the Patrician and raised an eyebrow politely.
Lord Vetinari gave a little wave of his hand.
'Stand easy, or whatever it is you chaps do,' he said. 'I'm sure we needn't wait on ceremony here. What do you say, Captain?'
Вы читаете Guards! Guards!
