Men at Arms

by Terry Pratchett

Page 31

  All right, no-one panic, just stop what youre doing, stop what youre doing, please. Im Corporal Nobbs, Ankh-Morpork City Ordnance Inspection City Audit— The piece of paper was waved in front of the mans eyes at vision-blurring speed, and Nobbys voice faltered a bit as he contemplated the end of the sentence, —Bureau . . . Special . . . Audit . . . Inspection. How many people work here?

  Just me—

  Nobby pointed at the trolls.

  What about them?

  The man spat on the floor.

  Oh, I thought you said people.

  Carrot stuck out his hand automatically and it slammed against Detritus breastplate.

  OK, said Nobby, lets see what weve got here . . . He walked fast along the racks, so that everyone else had to run to keep up. Whats this?

  Er—

  Dont know, eh?

  Sure . . . its . . . its . . .

  A triple-stringed 2,000lb carriage-mounted siege crossbow with the double-action windlass?

  Right.

  Isnt this a Klatchian reinforced crossbow with the goat-leg cocking mechanism and the underhaft bayonet?

  Er . . . yeah?

  Nobby gave it a cursory examination, and then tossed it aside.

  The rest of the Night Watch looked on in astonishment. Nobby had never been known to wield any weapon beyond a knife.

  Have you got one of those Hershebian twelve-shot bows with the gravity feed? he snapped.

  Eh? What you see is what we got, mister.

  Nobby pulled a hunting crossbow from its rack. His skinny arms twanged as he hauled on the cocking lever.

  Sold the bolts for this thing?

  Theyre right there!

  Nobby selected one from the shelf and dropped it into its slot. Then he sighted along the shaft. He turned.

  I like this inventory, said Nobby. Well take it all.

  The man looked down the sights at Nobbys eye and, to Anguas horrified admiration, didnt faint.

  That little bow dont scare me, he said.

  This little bow scare you? said Nobby. No. Right. This is a little bow. A little bow like this wouldnt scare a man like you, because its such a little bow. Itd need a bigger bow than this to scare a man like you.

  Angua would have given a months pay to see the quartermasters face from the front. Shed watched as Detritus had lifted down the siege bow, cocked it with one hand and a barely audible grunt, and stepped forward. Now she could imagine the eyeballs swivelling as the coldness of the metal penetrated the back of the armourers fleshy red neck.

  Now, the one behind you, thats a big bow, said Nobby.

  It wasnt as if the six-foot iron arrow was sharp. It was supposed to smash through doorways, not do surgery.

  Can I pull the trigger yet? Detritus rumbled, into the mans ear.

  You wouldnt dare fire that thing in here! Thats a siege weapon! Itd go right through the wall!

  Eventually, said Nobby.

  What this bit for? said Detritus.

  Now, look—

  I hope you keep that thing maintained, said Nobby. Them things were a bugger for metal fatigue. Especially on the safety catch.

  What are a safety catch? said Detritus.

  Everything went quiet.

  Carrot found his voice, a long way off.

  Corporal Nobbs?

  Yessir?

  Ill take over from this point, if you dont mind.

  He gently pushed the siege bow away, but Detritus hadnt liked the crack about people and it kept swinging back again.

  Now, said Carrot, I dont like this element of coercion. Were not here to bully this poor man. Hes a city employee, just like us. Its very wrong of you to put him in fear. Why not just ask?

  Sorry, sir, said Nobby.

  Carrot patted the armourer on the shoulder.

  May we take some weapons? he said.

  What?

  Some weapons? For official purposes?

  The armourer looked unable to cope with this.

  You mean I got a choice? he said.

  Why, certainly. We practise policing by consent in Ankh-Morpork. If you feel unable to agree to our request, you only have to say the word.

  There was a faint bong as the tip of the iron arrow once again bounced on the back of the armourers skull. He sought in vain for something to say, because the only word he could think of right now was Fire!

  Uh, he said. Uh. Yeah. Right. Sure. Take what you want.

  Fine, fine. And Sergeant Colon will give you a receipt, adding of course that you release the weapons of your own free will.

  My own free will?

  You have absolute choice in the matter, of course.

  The mans face screwed up in the effort of desperate cogitation.

  I reckon . . .

  Yes?

  I reckon its OK for you to take em. Take em right away.

  Good man. Do you have a trolley?

  And do you happen to know what it is they say about dwarfs? said Cuddy.

  It crept over Angua once again that Carrot had no irony in his soul. He meant every word. If the man had really held out, Carrot would probably have given in. Of course, there was a bit of a gap between probably and certainly.

  Nobby was down the end of the row, occasionally squeaking with delight as he found an interesting war hammer or an especially evil-looking glaive. He was trying to hold everything, all at once.

  Then he dropped the lot and ran forward.

  Oh, wow! A Klatchian fire engine! This is more my meteor!

  They heard him rummaging around in the gloom. He emerged pushing a sort of bin on small squeaky wheels. It had various handles and fat leathery bags, and a nozzle at the front. It looked like a very large kettle.

  The leathers been kept greased, too!

  What is it? said Carrot.

  And theres oil in the reservoir! Nobby pumped a handle energetically. Last I heard, this thing had been banned in eight countries and three religions said theyd excommunicate any soldiers found using it![25] Anyone got a light?

  Here, said Carrot, but whats—

  Watch!

  Nobby lit a match, applied it to the tube at the front of the device, and pulled a lever.

  They put out the flames eventually.

  Needs a bit of adjustment, said Nobby, through his mask of soot.

  No, said Carrot. For the rest of his life hed remember the jet of fire scorching his face en route to the opposite wall.

  But its—

  No. Its too dangerous.

  Its meant to be—

  I mean it could hurt people.

  Ah, said Nobby, right. You should have said. Were after weapons that dont hurt people, right?

  Corporal Nobbs? said Sergeant Colon, whod been even closer to the flame than Carrot.

  Yes, sarge?

  You heard Corporal Carrot. No heathen weapons. Anyway, how come you know so much about all this stuff?

  Militry service.

  Really, Nobby? said Carrot.

  Had a special job, sir. Very responsible.

  And what was that?

  Quartermaster, sir, said Nobby, saluting smartly.

  You were a quartermaster? said Carrot. In whose army?

  Duke of Pseudopolis, sir.

  But Pseudopolis always lost its wars!

  Ah . . . well . . .

  Who did you sell the weapons to?

  Thats a slander, that is! They just used to spend a lot of time away for polishing and sharpening.

  Nobby, this is Carrot talking to you. How much time, approximately?

  Approximately? Oh. About a hundred per cent, if were talking approximately, sir.

  Nobby?

  Sir?

  You dont have to call me sir.

  Yessir.

  In the end, Cuddy remained faithful to his axe, but added a couple more as an afterthought; Sergeant Colon chose a pike because the thing about a pike, the important thing, was that everything happened
at the other end of it, i. e. , a long way off; Lance-Constable Angua selected, without much enthusiasm, a short sword, and Corporal Nobbs—

  —Corporal Nobbs was a kind of mechanical porcu- pine of blades, bows, points and knobbly things on the end of chains.

  You sure, Nobby? said Carrot. Theres nothing you want to leave?

  Its so hard to choose, sir.

  Detritus was hanging on to his huge bow.

  That all youre taking, Detritus?

  No sir! Taking Hint and Morraine, sir!

  The two trolls who had been working in the armoury had formed up behind Detritus.

  Swore em in, sir, said Detritus. Used troll oath.

  Flint saluted amateurishly.

  He said hed kick our goohuloog heads in if we didnt join up and do what were told, sir, he said.

  Very old troll oath, said Detritus. Very famous, very traditional.

  One of em could carry the Klatchian fire engine— Nobby began hopefully.

  No, Nobby. Well . . . welcome to the Watch, men.

  Corporal Carrot?

  Yes, Cuddy?

  Its not fair. Theyre trolls.

  We need every man we can get, Cuddy.

  Carrot stood back. Now, we dont want people to think were looking for trouble, he said.

  Oh, dressed like this, sir, we wont have to look for trouble, said Sergeant Colon despondently.

  Question, sir? said Angua.

  Yes, Lance-Constable Angua?

  Whos the enemy?

  Looking like this, we wont have any problem finding enemies, said Sergeant Colon.

  Were not looking for enemies, were looking for information, said Carrot. The best weapon we can use right now is the truth, and to start with, were going to the Fools Guild to find out why Brother Beano stole the gonne.

  Did he steal the gonne?

  I think he may have, yes.

  But he died before the gonne was stolen! said Colon.

  Yes, said Carrot. I know that.

  Now that, said Colon, is what I calls an alibi.

  The squad formed up and, after a brief discussion among the trolls as to which was their left foot and which was their right, marched away. Nobby kept looking back longingly to the fire machine.

  Sometimes its better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness.

  Ten minutes later theyd pushed through the crowds and were outside the Guilds.

  See? Carrot said.

  They back on to each other, said Nobby. So what? Theres still a wall between them.

  Im not so sure, said Carrot. Well jolly well find out.

  Have we got time? said Angua, I thought we were going to see the Day Watch.

  Theres something I must find out first, said Carrot. The Fools havent told me the truth. -

  Hang on a minute, hang on a minute, said Sergeant Colon. This is going altogether just a bit too far by half. Look, I dont want us to kill anyone, right? I happen to be sergeant around here, if anyones interested. Understand, Carrot? Nobby? No shooting or swordplay. Its bad enough barging into Guild property, but well get into really serious trouble if we shoot anyone. Lord Vetinari wont stop at sarcasm. He might use – Colon swallowed – irony. So thats an order. What do you want to do, anyway?

  I just want people to tell me things, said Carrot.

  Well, if they dont, youre not to hurt them, said Colon. Look, you can ask questions, fair enough. But if Dr Whiteface starts getting difficult, were to come away, right? Clowns give me the creeps. And hes worst of all. If he wont answer, were to leave peacefully and, oh, I dont know, think of something else. Thats an order, like I said. Are you clear about this? Its an order.

  If he wont answer my questions, said Carrot, Im to leave peacefully. Right.

  So long as thats understood.

  Carrot knocked on the Fools door, reached up, caught the custard pie as it emerged from the slot and rammed it back hard. Then he kicked the door so that it swung inwards a few inches.

  Someone behind it said Ow.

  The door opened a bit further to reveal a small clown covered in whitewash and custard.