Terry Pratchett - Thud

`Excuse me!' said Vimes loudly. The babble of voices stopped.

`Awk!' he said.

The blue and green lights ceased their sparkle and, instead, began to move across the metal to form a pattern of blue and green squares.

`I thought the artist knew no dwarfish,' said the King.

`He didn't, but he spoke fluent Chicken,' said Vimes. `I'll explain later...'

`Captain, fetch the grags,' the King snapped. `The prisoners too, even the trolls. All shall hear this!'

The cube's surface seemed to be moving over Vimes's skin. Some of the green and blue squares rose slightly proud of the rest of the metal.

The box began to speak. There was a crackle that sounded like dwarfish, although Vimes couldn't make out a single word. It was followed by a couple of loud knocking noises.

`Second Convocation Hubland Dwarfish,' said Bashfullsson. `That would be right for the time. Whoever is speaking has just said: "Art thys thyng workyng?"'

The voice spoke again. As the cracked old syllables unrolled, Bashfullsson went on: `The first thyng Tak did, he wroten hymself; the second thyng Tak did, he wroten the Laws; the thyrd thyng Tak did, he wroten the World; the fourth thyng Tak did, he wroten ay cave; the fyfth thyng Tak did, he wroten a geode, ay egge of stone; and in the gloamyn of the mouth of the cave, the geode hatched and the Brothers were born; the first Brother walked towards the light, and stood under the open sky-'

`This is just the story of the Things Tak Wrote,' Cheery whispered to Vimes. Vimes shrugged, and watched as some of the bodyguards hustled the old grags into the circle, Ardent among them.

`It's not new or anything?' Vimes said, disappointed. `Every dwarf knows it, sir.'

`-He was the first Dwarf,' Bashfullsson translated. `He found the Laws Tak had written, and he was endarkened-'

The crackling voice went on and then Bashfullsson, who had his eyes closed in concentration, opened them in shock.

`... uh ... Then Tak looked upon the stone and it was trying to come alive, and Tak smiled and wrote: "All things strive",' said the dwarf, raising his voice above the growing commotion around him. `And for the service the stone had given he fashioned it into the first Troll, and delighted in the life that came unbidden. These are the things that Tak wrote!' He was shouting now, because of the noise level.

Vimes felt like an outsider. It seemed that everyone except him was arguing. Axes were being flourished.

`I WHO SPEAK TO YOU NOW AM B'HRIAN BLOODAXE, BY RIGHT OF THE SCONE THE TRUE KING OF THE DWARFS!' Bashfullsson screamed.

The cave went silent, except for the echoing scream returning from distant darkness.

`We were washed into the caves by the flood. We sought one another, voices in the dark. We are dying. Our bodies are broken by the terrible water with teeth ... of stone. We are too weak to climb. Water surrounds all. This testament we will entrust to young Stronginthearm, who is still nimble, in the hope that it will reach the daylight. For the story of this day must not be forgotten. This outcome was not meant! We came to sign a treaty! It was the secret, careful work of many years!'

The box stopped speaking. But there were faint groans, and the rush of water somewhere.

`Sire, I demand that this should not be heard!' shouted Ardent from among the grags. `It is nothing but lies upon lies. There is no truth in it! What proof is there that this is the voice of Bloodaxe?'

Captain Gud is looking a bit uncertain, Vimes thought. The King's bodyguard? Well, they mostly looked like the stolid kind who stayed loyal and didn't pay much attention to politics. The miners? Angry and confused because the old grags are yelling. This is going to go bad really fast.

`City Watch, to me!' he shouted.

The background noises from the cube died and another voice started to speak. Detritus looked up quickly.

'Dat's Old Troll!' he said.

Bashfullsson hesitated for a moment. `... er ... I am Diamond King of Trolls,' he said, looking desperately at Vimes. `Indeed we came to make peace. But the mist came down upon us and when it rose some trolls and dwarfs cried Ambush! They fell to fighting and would not hear our commands. So troll fought troll, and dwarf fought dwarf, and fools made fools of all of us as we fought to stop a war, until the disgusted sky washed us away.

`And yet we say this. Here in this cave at the end of the world peace is made between dwarf and troll and we will march beyond the hand of Death together. For the enemy is not Troll, nor is it Dwarf, but it is the baleful, the malign, the cowardly, the vessels of hatred, those who do a bad thing and call it good. Those we fought today, but the wilful fool is eternal and will say-'

`This is just a trick!' Ardent shouted.

`-say this is a trick,' Bashfullsson continued, `and so we implore: come to the caves under this valley, where you will find us sharing the peace that cannot be braken.'

The rumbling voice from the box stopped speaking. There was, once again, a rustle of half-heard voices, and then silence.

The little squares moved about like a sliding puzzle for a moment, and sound came back. Now what issued from the box was shouts and screams, and the clash of steel ...

Vimes was watching the King's face. Some of this you knew, right. Not all of it, but you didn't look surprised that it was Bloodaxe speaking. Rumours? Old stories? Something in the records? You'll never tell me.

'Had'ra,' said Bashfullsson, and the cube fell silent. `That means stop, commander,' the grag added.

`And so we are under Koom Valley,' sneered Ardent. `And what do we find?'

`We find you,' said Bashfullsson. `We always find you.'

`Dead trolls. Dead dwarfs. And nothing more than a voice,' said Ardent.

'Ankh-Morpork here is here. They are devious. These words could have been spoken yesterday!'

The King was watching Ardent and Bashfullsson. So was every other dwarf. You don't have to stand and argue! Vimes wanted to shout. Just chain the bastards up and we can sort it out later!

But being a dwarf was all about words and laws ...

`These are venerable grags,' said Ardent, indicating the robed figures behind him. `They have studied the Histories! They have studied the Devices! Thousands of years of knowledge stand before you. And you? What do you know?'

`You came to destroy the truth,' said Bashfullsson. `You dared not trust it. A voice is just a voice, but these bodies are proof. You came here to destroy them:

Ardent snatched the axe from a miner and was flourishing it before any of the bodyguards could react. When realization caught up with them, there was a massed move forward.

`No!' said Bashfullsson, holding up his hands. `Sire, please! This is an argument between grags!'

`Why do you carry no axe?' Ardent snarled.

`I need no axe to be a dwarf,' said Bashfullsson. `Nor do I need to hate trolls. What kind of creature defines itself by hatred?'

`You strike at the very root of us!' said Ardent. `At the root!'

`Then strike back,' said Bashfullsson, holding out his empty hands. `And put your sword away, Commander Vimes,' he added, without turning his head. `This is dwarf business. Ardent? I'm still standing. What do you believe in? Ha'ak! Ga strak ja'ada!'

Ardent jerked forward, axe raised. Bashfullsson moved quickly, there was the thud of something hitting flesh, and then a tableau as motionless as the brooding figures around the cavern. There was Ardent, axe raised overhead. There was Bashfullsson, down on one knee with his head resting almost companionably against the dwarf's chest and the edge of one hand pressed hard against Ardent's throat.

Ardent's mouth opened, but all that came out was a croak and a trickle of blood. He took a few steps back, and fell over backwards.