"The Low King will see you now," said one of them.

"Er..."

"We will have to be officially presented," Lady Sybil hissed.

"What, even Detritus?"

"Yes!"

"But he's a troll!" It had seemed amusing at the time.

Vimes was aware of a drift in the crowds across the floor of the huge cave. There was a certain movement to them, a flow in the current of people toward one end of the cave. There was really no option but to join it.

The Low King was on a small throne under one of the chandeliers. There was a metal canopy over it, already encrusted with marvelous stalact.i.tes of wax.

Around him, watching the crowd, were four dwarfs, tall for dwarfs, and looking rather menacing in their dark gla.s.ses. Each one was holding an ax. They spent all their time staring very hard at people.

The king was talking to the Genuan amba.s.sador. Vimes looked sideways at Cheery and Detritus. Suddenly, bringing them here wasn't such a good idea. In his official robes, the king looked a lot more...distant, and a lot harder to please.

Hang on, he told himself. They are are Ankh-Morpork citizens. They're not doing anything Ankh-Morpork citizens. They're not doing anything wrong wrong.

And then he argued: They're not doing anything wrong in Ankh-Morpork in Ankh-Morpork.

The line moved along. Their party was almost in the presence. The armed dwarfs were all watching Detritus now, and holding their axes in a slightly less relaxed way.

Detritus appeared not to notice.

"Dis place is even more cult'ral than the op'ra house," he said, gazing around respectfully. "Dem chandeliers must weigh a ton."

He reached up and rubbed his head, and then inspected his fingers.

Vimes glanced up. Something warm, like a b.u.t.tered raindrop, hit his cheek.

As he brushed it away, he saw the shadows move...

Things happened with treacle slowness. He saw it as if he were watching himself from a little way away.

He saw himself push Cheery and Sybil roughly, heard himself shout something, and watched himself dive toward the king, s.n.a.t.c.hing the dwarf up as an ax clanged into his backplate.

Then he was rolling, with the angry dwarf in his arms, and the chandelier was halfway through its fall, candle flames streaming, and there was Detritus, raising his hands with a calculating look on his face...

There was a moment of stillness and silence as the troll caught the descending mountain of light. And then physics returned, in an exploding cloud of dwarfs, debris, molten wax and tumbling, flaring candles.

Vimes woke up in utter darkness. He blinked and touched his eyes to make sure that they were open.

Then he sat up and his head thumped against stone, and then then there was light, vicious yellow and purple there was light, vicious yellow and purple lights lights, filling his life very suddenly. He lay back until they went away.

He took a personal itinerary. His cloak, helmet, sword and armor had all gone. He was left in his shirt and breeches, and while this place was not freezing, it had a clamminess that was already working its way through to his bones.

Right...

He wasn't sure how long it took him to get a feel for the cell, but a feel it was. He moved by inches, waving his arms ahead of him like a man practicing a very slow martial art against the darkness.

Even then, the senses became unreliable in the total black. He followed the wall carefully, followed another wall, followed a wall which yielded, under his fingertips, the outline of a small door with a handle, and found the wall which had the stone slab against it on which he'd awoken.

What made this all the harder was having to do this with his head sunk against his chest. Vimes wasn't a very tall man. If he had been, he'd probably have cracked his skull when he woke up.

Without any other aids to rely on, he walked the length of the walls using his copper's pace. He knew exactly how long it took him, swinging his legs easily, to walk across the Bra.s.s Bridge back home. A little bit of muzzy mental arithmetic was needed, but eventually he decided that the room was ten feet square.

One thing that Vimes did not do was shout "Help! Help!" He was in a cell. Someone had put put him in a cell. It was reasonable to a.s.sume, therefore, that whoever had done this wasn't interested in his opinions. him in a cell. It was reasonable to a.s.sume, therefore, that whoever had done this wasn't interested in his opinions.

He groped his way to the stone slab again and lay down. As he did so, something rattled.

His patted his pockets and brought out what felt and sounded very much like a box of matches. There were only three left.

So...resources = the clothes he stood up in, and a few matches.

Now to work out what the h.e.l.l was going on.

He remembered seeing the chandelier. He thought thought he remembered seeing Detritus actually catch the thing. And there had been a lot of screaming and shouting and running around, while in his arms the king swore at Vimes as only a dwarf could swear. Then someone had hit him. he remembered seeing Detritus actually catch the thing. And there had been a lot of screaming and shouting and running around, while in his arms the king swore at Vimes as only a dwarf could swear. Then someone had hit him.

There was also an ache across his back where an ax had been turned aside by his armor. He felt a twitch of national pride at that thought. Ankh-Morpork armor had stood up to the blow! Admittedly, it was was probably made in Ankh-Morpork by dwarfs from Uberwald, using steel smelted from Uberwald iron, but it d.a.m.n well was Ankh-Morpork armor, just the same. probably made in Ankh-Morpork by dwarfs from Uberwald, using steel smelted from Uberwald iron, but it d.a.m.n well was Ankh-Morpork armor, just the same.

There was a pillow on the slab, made in Uberwald.

As Vimes turned his head, the pillow went, very faintly, clink clink. This was a sound he didn't a.s.sociate with feathers.

In the darkness, he picked up the sack and, after resorting to his teeth, managed to rip a hole in the heavy material.

If what he drew up had ever been part of a bird, it wasn't one Vimes would ever like to meet. It felt felt very much like Inigo's One-Shot. A finger inserted very gingerly into the end told Vimes that it was loaded, too. very much like Inigo's One-Shot. A finger inserted very gingerly into the end told Vimes that it was loaded, too.

Just one shot, he remembered. But it was one people didn't know you had...

On the other hand, the Tooth Fairy probably wasn't responsible for putting it in the pillow, unless she'd been having to face some particularly difficult children lately.

He slipped it back into the bag when he became aware of a light. It was the faintest glow, showing that the door contained a barred window and that there were shadowy figures on the other side of it.

"Are you awake, Your Grace? This is very unfortunate."

"Dee?"

"Yes."

"And you've come to tell me this has all been some terrible mistake?"

"Alas, no. I am convinced of your innocence, of course."

"Really? Me too," growled Vimes. "In fact I'm so so convinced of my innocence I don't even know what it is I'm innocent of! Let me out or-" convinced of my innocence I don't even know what it is I'm innocent of! Let me out or-"

"-or you will stay in, I am afraid," said Dee. "It is a very strong door. You are not in Ankh-Morpork, Your Grace. I will of course communicate your predicament to your Lord Vetinari as soon as possible, but I understand that the message tower has been badly damaged-"

"My predicament predicament is that you've locked me up! Why? I saved your king, didn't I?" is that you've locked me up! Why? I saved your king, didn't I?"

"There is...conflict..."

"Someone let that chandelier down!"

"Yes, indeed. A member of your staff, it appears."

"You know that can't be true! Detritus and Littlebottom were with me when-"

"Mister Skimmer was on your staff?"

"He...Yes, but...I...he wouldn't-"

"I believe you have such a thing in Ankh-Morpork called the Guild of a.s.sa.s.sins?" said Dee, calmly. "Correct me if I am wrong."

"He was up at the tower!"

"The damaged damaged tower?" tower?"

"It was damaged before he-" Vimes stopped. "Why would he smash up one of the towers?"

"I did not say he would," said Dee. The flat calm was still there. "And then, Your Grace, it has been suggested suggested that you gave a signal just before the thing came down..." that you gave a signal just before the thing came down..."

"What?"

"A hand to the cheek, or something. It has been suggested that you antic.i.p.ated the event."

"The thing was swaying! Look, let me talk to Skimmer!"

"Do you have supernatural powers, Your Grace?"

Vimes hesitated.

"He's dead?"

"We believe he became entangled in the winch mechanism in the process of releasing the chandelier. Three dwarfs were dead around him."

"He wouldn't-"

Vimes stopped again. Of course he wouldn't. It's just that he's a member of this Guild we have, and you certainly know that, don't you- Dee must have seen his expression.

"Quite so, quite so. Everything will be investigated thoroughly. The innocent have nothing to fear."

The news that they have nothing to fear is guaranteed to strike fear into the hearts of innocents everywhere.

"What have you done with Sybil?"

"Done, Your Grace? Why...nothing. We are not barbarians. We have heard nothing but good reports of your wife. She is upset, of course."

Vimes groaned. "And Detritus and Littlebottom?"

"Well, of course they were under your command, Your Grace. And one is a troll and the other is...dangerously different. And that is why, and precisely for that reason, that they are under house arrest in your own emba.s.sy. We do respect the traditions of diplomacy, and we will not have it said that we have acted out of malice." Dee sighed. "And then, of course, there is the other other matter-" matter-"

"Are you going to accuse me of stealing the Scone, too?"

"You laid hands on the king."

Vimes stared. "Huh? A ton of candlestick was about to fall on him!"

"This has been pointed out-"

"And I'm imprisoned for saving him from an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt I planned?"

"Are you?"

"No! Look, the thing was coming down, what else should I have done? Tugged at the carpet and try to drag him away?"

"Yes, yes, I understand. But precedent in this area is very clear. In 1345, when the king at the time fell into a lake, not one member of his staff dared touch him because of the ruling, and the subsequent finding was that they had acted correctly. It is forbidden to touch the king. I have of course explained to the conclave that this is not the Ankh-Morpork way, but...this is not Ankh-Morpork."

"I don't need everyone reminding me about that!"

"You will remain...our guest while investigations continue. Food and drink will be brought to you."

"And light?"

"Of course. Excuse our lack of consideration. Stand back from the door, please. The guards with me are armed and they are...uncomplicated people."

The grille on the door was swung back. A glowing wire cage was put on the ledge.

"What's this? A sick glow-worm?"

"It is a kind of beetle, yes. You will find that it will very soon seem quite bright. We are very accustomed to darkness."

"Look," said Vimes, as the grille was shut again, "You know know this is ridiculous! I...don't know what the position is with Mister Skimmer, but I d.a.m.n well intend to find out! And there's the Scone theft, I'm pretty certain I'm close to working that out, too. If you let me return to the emba.s.sy, where else could I go?" this is ridiculous! I...don't know what the position is with Mister Skimmer, but I d.a.m.n well intend to find out! And there's the Scone theft, I'm pretty certain I'm close to working that out, too. If you let me return to the emba.s.sy, where else could I go?"

"We would not wish to find out. You may just feel that life would be more pleasant in Ankh-Morpork."

"Really? And how would we get there?"

"You may have friends in unexpected places."

Vimes thought of the evil little weapon in the pillow.