Terry Pratchett - Thud

Axes and clubs were being waved, spears were being pointed, there were charges and countercharges and single combats. Across the whole length of the picture, dwarfs and trolls were locked in ferocious battle, hacking and smashing

He thought: who's missing?

`Sir Reynold, could you help me?' he said quietly, lest the nascent thought turn tail and run.

`Yes, commander?' said the curator, hurrying over. `Doesn't Lady Sybil do the most exquisite-'

`She's very good, yes,' said Vimes. `Tell me ... how did Rascal know all this stuff?'

`There hwere many dwarf songs about it, and some troll stories. Oh, and some humans hwitnessed it.'

`So Rascal could have read about it?'

`Oh, yes. Apart from the fact that he put it in the wrong part of the valleah, he got it down quite accurately.'

Vimes didn't take his gaze off the paper battle.

`Does anyone know why he put it in the wrong place, then?' he said.

`There are several theoreahs. One is that he hwas deceived by the fact that the dead dwarfs hwere cremated at that end of the valley, but after the storm that is hwhere many of the bodies ended up. There hwas also a great deal of dead hwood for bonfires. But I believe he chose that end because the view is so much better. The mountains are so dramatic.'

Vimes sat down, staring at the sketch, willing it to yield its secret. Everyone will know the secret in a few weeks, Mr Shine had said. Why?

`Sir Reynold, was anything going to happen to the painting in the next couple of weeks?' he said.

`Oh, yes, said the curator. `Hwe would have installed it in its new room.

`Anything special about that?'

`I did tell your sergeant, commander,' said the curator a little reproachfully. `It is circular. Rascal always intended it to be seen in the round, as it were. So that the viewer could be there.'

And I'm nearly there, too, Vimes thought.

`I think the cube told the dwarfs something about Koom Valley,' he said, in a faraway voice, because he felt as though he was already in the valley. `It told them that the place where it was found was important. Even Rascal thought it was important. They needed a map, and Rascal painted one, even if he didn't know it. Fred?'

`Yessir?'

`The dwarfs weren't bothered about damaging the bottom of the

painting because it doesn't contain anything important. It's just people. People move around.'

`But, with respect, commander, so do all those boulders,' said Sir Reynold.

`They don't matter. No matter how much the valley has changed, this picture will work,' said Vimes. The glow of understanding lit his brain.

`But even the rivers move over the years, and any amount of rocks have rolled down from the mountains,' said Sir Reynold. `I'm told the area looks nothing like that now.'

`Even so,' said Vimes, in the same dreamy voice, `this map will work for thousands of years. It doesn't mark a rock or a hollow or a cave, it just marks a spot. I can pinpoint it. That is, if I had a pin.

`I have one!' said Sir Reynold triumphantly, reaching to his lapel. `I spotted one in the street yesterday, and of course hwe all know the old saying: "See a pin and pick it up, and all day long-"'

`Yes, thank you,' said Vimes, taking it. He walked to the end of the table, picked up one end of the painting, and dragged it back down the length of the table, the heavy paper flapping after him.

He pinned the two ends together, held up the circle he had made, and lowered it over his head.

`The truth is in the mountains,' he said. `For years you've been looking at a line of mountains. It's really a circle of mountains.'

`But I knew that!' said Sir Reynold.

`In a way, sir, but you probably didn't understand it until now, yes? Rascal was standing somewhere important.'

`Well, yes. But it was a cave, commander. He specifically mentions a cave. That's why people have searched along the valleah walls. The painting's set right in the middle, near the river.'

`Then there's something we still don't know!' said Vimes, annoyed that a big moment had so quickly become a small one. 'I'll find out what it is when I get there!'

There. He'd said it. But he'd known that he was going to go, known for ... how long? It seemed like for ever, but had it seemed like for ever yesterday? This afternoon? He could see the place in his mind's eye. Vimes at Koom Valley! He could practically taste the air! He could hear the roaring of the river, which ran as cold as ice!

`Sam-' Sybil began.

`No, this has got to be sorted out,' Vimes said quickly. `I don't care about the stupid secret! Those deep-downers murdered our dwarfs, remember? They think the painting is a map they can use, and that's why they're going there. I've got to go after them.'

`Look, Sam, if-' Sybil tried.

`We can't afford a war between the trolls and the dwarfs, dear. That business the other night was just a dumb gang fight. A real war in Ankh-Morpork would wreck the place! And somehow it's all tied up with this!'

`I agree! I want to come too!' Sybil screamed.

`Besides, I'll be perfectly safe if- What?' Vimes gaped at his wife while his mental gears ripped into reverse. `No, it's too dangerous!'

`Sam Vimes, I've dreamed of visiting Koom Valley all my life, so don't dare think for one moment you're gallivanting off to see it and leaving me at home!'

`I don't gallivant! I've never gallivanted. I don't know how to vant! I don't even have a galli! But there's going to be a war there soon!'

`Then I shall tell them we're not involved,' said Sybil calmly. `That won't work!'

`Then it won't work in Ankh-Morpork either,' said Sybil, with the air of a player cunningly knocking out four dwarfs in one go. `Sam, you know you're going to lose this. There's no point in arguing. Besides, I speak dwarfish. We'll take Young Sam, too.'

`No!'

`So that's all sorted, then,' said Sybil, apparently struck by sudden deafness. `If you want to catch up with the dwarfs, I suggest we leave as soon as possible.'

Sir Reynold turned to her with his mouth open. `But, Lady Sybil, armies are already massing there. It's no place for a lady!'

Vimes winced. Sybil had made up her mind. This was going to be like watching that dwarf being flamed by dragons all over again.

Lady Sybil's bosom, which she was allowed to have, grew as she took a deep breath; it seemed to lift her slightly off the ground.

`Sir Reynold,' she said, with a side order of ice, `in the Year of the Lice my great-grandmother once cooked, personally, a full dinner for eighteen in a military redoubt that was entirely surrounded by bloodthirsty Klatchians, and she felt able to include sorbet and nuts. My grandmother, in the Year of the Quiet Monkey, defended our embassy in Pseudopolis against a mob, with no assistance but that offered by a gardener, a trained parrot and a pan of hot chip fat. My late aunt, when our coach was once held up at bow-point by two desperate highwaymen, gave them such a talking to that they actually ran away crying for their mothers, Sir Reynold, their mothers. We are no strangers to danger, Sir Reynold. May I also remind you that quite probably half the dwarfs who fought at Koom Valley were ladies? No one told them to stay at home!'

So that's settled, then, thought Vimes. We- Damn!

`Captain,' he said, `send someone to find that dwarf Grag Bashfullsson, will you? Tell him Commander Vimes presents his compliments and will indeed be leaving first thing in the morning.'

`Er, right, sir. Will do,' said Carrot.

How did he know I'd be going? Vimes wondered. I suppose it was inevitable. But he could have hung us out to dry if he'd said we'd mistreated that dwarf. And he's one of Mr Shine's pupils, I'll bet on it. Good idea to keep an eye on him, perhaps ...

When did Lord Vetinari sleep? Presumably the man must get his head down at some point, Vimes reasoned. Everyone slept. Catnaps could get you by for a while, but sooner or later you need a solid eight hours, right?