"But it'll slow you down for a while. Now bring out Lady Sybil!"

"Lady Sybil is resting. You are in no position to make demands, Mister Vimes. We are not the criminals here."

As Vimes's mouth dropped open, she went on: "The Game is not against the lore. It has been played for a thousand years. And what else is it that you think we have done? Stolen the dwarfs' pet rock? We-"

"You know know it wasn't stolen," said Vimes. "And I know-" it wasn't stolen," said Vimes. "And I know-"

"You know know nothing! You suspect everything. You have that kind of mind." nothing! You suspect everything. You have that kind of mind."

"Your son said-"

"My son unfortunately has honed to perfection every muscle in his body except the ones for thinking with," said the baroness. "In civilized Ankh-Morpork I daresay you can barge into people's houses and stamp around, but here in our barbaric backwater the lore requires something beyond mere a.s.sertion."

"I can smell the fear," said Angua. "It's pouring off you, Mother."

"Sam?"

They looked up. Lady Sybil was standing at the top of some stone stairs leading to a lower floor, looking bewildered and angry. She was holding an iron bar with a bend in it.

"Sybil!"

"She told me you were on the run and they were all trying to save you...but that wasn't right, was it..." told me you were on the run and they were all trying to save you...but that wasn't right, was it..."

It's a terrible thing to admit to yourself, but when the shoulder blades are pressed firmly against the brickwork then any weapon will do, and right now Vimes saw Sybil loaded and ready to fire.

She got on with people. Practically from the moment she'd been able to talk she'd been taught how to listen. And when Sybil listened to people she made them feel good about themselves. It was probably something to do with being a...a big girl. She tried to make herself seem small, and by default that made those around her feel bigger. She got on with people almost as well as Carrot. No wonder even the dwarfs liked her.

She had pages to herself in Twurp's Peerage Twurp's Peerage, huge ancestral anchors biting into the past, and dwarfs also respected someone who knew their great-great-great-grandfather's full name. And Sybil couldn't lie, you could see her redden when she tried it. Sybil was a rock. She made Detritus look like a sponge.

"We've been having a lovely run in the woods, dear," he said. "Now please come here, because I think we're going to see the king. And I'm going to tell him everything. I've worked it out at last..."

"The dwarfs will kill kill you," said the baroness. you," said the baroness.

"I can probably outrun a dwarf," said Vimes. "And now we're leaving. Angua?"

Angua hadn't moved. Her eyes were still fixed on her mother, and she was still growling.

Vimes recognized the signs. You spotted them in the bars of Ankh-Morpork every Sat.u.r.day night. Hackles rose, and people climbed up them, and then all that was needed was for someone to break a bottle. Or blink.

"We are leaving leaving, Angua," he repeated. The other werewolves were standing up and stretching.

Carrot reached out and took her arm. She turned, snarling. It was over in a fraction of a second, and in reality her head had hardly moved before she got a grip on herself.

"Sor thiz iz therr boy?" said the baroness, her voice slurring. "You betrrray yourrr people for thizz thizz?"

Her ears were lengthening, Vimes was sure. The muscles in her face were moving strangely, too.

"And what else ha.s.s Anrk-Morrporrk taught you?"

Angua shuddered.

"Self-control," she muttered. "Let's go, Mister Vimes."

The werewolves closed in as they backed toward the steps.

"Don't turn your back," said Angua levelly. "Don't run."

"Don't need telling," said Vimes. He was watching Wolfgang, who was moving obliquely across the floor, his eyes fixed on the retreating party.

They'll have to bunch up to follow us through the doorway, he thought. He glanced at Detritus. The giant crossbow was weaving back and forth as the troll tried to keep all the wolves in the field of fire.

"Fire it," said Angua.

"But they're your family!" said Sybil.

"They'll heal soon enough, believe me!"

"Detritus, don't shoot unless you have to," Vimes ordered, as they headed toward the drawbridge.

"He has to now now," said Angua. "Sooner or later Wolfgang will leap, and the others will take-"

"There's something you ought to know, sir," said Cheery. "You really ought to know it, sir. It's really important important."

Vimes looked across the drawbridge. Figures ma.s.sed in the dark. Torchlight glinted off armor and weaponry, blocking the way.

"Well, things couldn't get any worse," he said.

"Oh, they could if there were snakes in here with us," said Lady Sybil.

Carrot turned at the sound of Vimes's snort of laughter.

"Sir?"

"Oh, nothing, Captain. Keep your eyes on the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, will you? We can deal with the soldiers later."

"Just say the word, sir," said Detritus.

"You arrre trrapped now," snarled the baroness. "Watchman! Do yourr duty!"

A figure was walking across the bridge, carrying a torch.

Captain Tantony reached Vimes, and glared at him.

"Stand aside, sir," he said. "Stand aside, or by G.o.ds, amba.s.sador or not, I'll arrest you!"

Their eyes met.

Then Vimes looked away.

"Let's let him through," he said. "The man's decided he's got a duty to do."

Tantony nodded slightly, and then marched on across to the bridge until he was a few feet from the baroness. He saluted.

"Take these people away!" she said.

"Lady Serafine von Uberwald?" said Tantony woodenly.

"You know know who I am, man!" who I am, man!"

"I wish to talk to you concerning certain charges made in my presence."

Vimes closed his eyes. Oh, you poor dumb idiot...I didn't mean you to actually- "You what what?" said the baroness.

"It has been alleged, my lady, that a member or members of your family have been involved in a conspiracy to-"

"How darrre darrre you!" screamed Serafine. you!" screamed Serafine.

And Wolfgang leapt, and the future became a series of flickering images.

In midair he changed into the wolf.

Vimes grabbed the bottom of Detritus's bow and forced it upward at the same time as the troll pulled the trigger.

Carrot was running before Wolfgang landed on Captain Tantony's chest.

The sound sound of the bow echoed around the castle, above the noise of a thousand whirring fragments scything through the sky. of the bow echoed around the castle, above the noise of a thousand whirring fragments scything through the sky.

Carrot reached Wolfgang in a flat dive. He hit the wolf with his shoulder, and the two of them were bowled over.

Then, like some moving magic lantern show coming back up to speed, the scene exploded.

Carrot got to his feet and- It must be because we're abroad, thought Vimes. He's trying to do things properly properly.

He'd squared up to the werewolf, fists balled, a stance taken straight from Fig. 1 of The n.o.ble Art of Fisticuffs The n.o.ble Art of Fisticuffs, which looked impressive right up to the point when your opponent broke your nose with a quart mug.

Carrot had a punch like an iron bar, and landed a couple of heavy blows on Wolfgang as he got up. The werewolf seemed more puzzled than hurt.

Then he changed shape, caught a fist in both hands and gripped it hard. To Vimes's horror he stepped forward, without apparent effort, forcing Carrot back.

"Do not try anything, Angua," said Wolf, grinning happily. "Or else I will break his arm. Oh, perhaps I will break his arm anyway! Yes!"

Vimes even heard the crack. Carrot went white. Someone holding a broken arm has all the control they need. Another idiot, thought Vimes. When they're down you don't let them get back up! d.a.m.n the Marquis of Fantailler! Policing by consent was a good theory, but you had to get your opponent to lie still first.

"Ah! And he has other bones!" said Wolfgang, pushing Carrot away. He glanced toward Angua. "Get back, get back. Or I'll hurt him some more! No, I shall hurt him some more anyway anyway!"

Then Carrot kicked him in the stomach.

Wolfgang went over backward, but turned this into a backflip and a midair spin. He landed lightly, leapt back at the astonished Carrot, and punched him twice in the chest.

The blows sounded like shovels. .h.i.tting wet concrete.

He grabbed the falling man, lifted him over his head with one hand and hurled him down onto the bridge in front of Angua.

"Civilized man!" he shouted. "Here he is, sister!"

Vimes heard a sound down beside him. Gavin was watching intently, making urgent little noises in his throat. A tiny part of Vimes, the little rock hard core of cynicism, thought: All right for you, then.

Steam was rising off Wolfgang. He shone in the torchlight. The blond hair across his shoulders gleamed like a slipped halo.

Angua knelt down by the body, face impa.s.sive. Vimes had been expecting a scream of rage.

He heard her crying.

Beside Vimes, Gavin whined. Vimes stared down at the wolf. He looked at Angua, trying to lift Carrot, and then he looked at Wolfgang. And then back again.

"Anyone else?" said Wolfgang, dancing back and forth on the boards. "How about you, Civilized?"

"Sam!" hissed Sybil. "You can't-"

Vimes drew his sword. It wouldn't make any difference, now. Wolfgang wasn't playing now, he wasn't punching and running away. Those arms could push a fist through Vimes's rib cage and out the other side- A blur went past at shoulder height. Gavin struck Wolfgang in the throat, knocking him over. They rolled across the bridge, Wolfgang changing back to wolf shape to lock jaw against jaw. They broke, circled, and went for one another again.

Dreamlike, Vimes heard a small voice say: "He wouldn't last five minutes back home fightin' like that. The silly b.u.g.g.e.r's gonna get creamed creamed, fightin' like that! Stuff the Marquis of flamin' Fantailler!"

Gaspode was sitting bolt upright, stubby tail vibrating.

"The daftie! This This is how you win a dogfight!" is how you win a dogfight!"

As the wolves rolled over and over, Wolfgang tearing at Gavin's belly, Gaspode arrived growling and yapping and launched himself in the general direction of the werewolf's hindquarters.

There was a yip. Gaspode's growling was suddenly m.u.f.fled. Wolfgang leapt vertically. Gavin sprang. The three hit the parapet of the bridge together, knocked the crumbling stones aside, hung for a moment in a snarling ball, and then dropped down into the roaring whiteness of the river.

The whole of it, from the moment Tantony had crossed the bridge, had taken much less than a minute.

The baroness was staring down into the gorge. Keeping his eye on her, Vimes spoke to Detritus.

"Are you sure you're werewolf-proof, Sergeant?"

"Pretty much, sir. Anyway, I got the bow wound up again."

"Go into the castle and fetch the resident Igor, then," said Vimes calmly. "If anyone even tries to stop you, shoot them. And shoot anyone standing near them."

"No problem about dat, sir."

"We're not at home to Mister Reasonable, Sergeant."

"I do not hear him knockin', sir."

"Go to it, then. Sergeant Angua?"