Terry Pratchett - Men at Arms

“Anywhere the trolls are,” said Colon. He remembered himself. “Only joking,” he added.

“Very well,” said Carrot. “Everyone follow me.”

The babble stopped as the militia marched, lumbered, trotted and knuckled towards the Day Watch House.

A couple of very large trolls blocked the way. The crowd watched in expectant silence.

Any minute now, Colon thought, someone's going to throw something. And then we're all going to die.

He glanced up. Slowly and jerkily, gargoyle heads were appearing along the gutters. No-one wanted to miss a good fight.

Carrot nodded at the two trolls.

They'd got lichen all over them, Colon noticed.

“It's Bluejohn and Bauxite, isn't it?” said Carrot.

Bluejohn, despite himself, nodded. Bauxite was tougher, and merely glared.

“You're just the sort I was looking for,” Carrot went on.

Colon gripped his helmet like a size #10 limpet trying to crawl up into a size #1 shell. Bauxite was an avalanche with feet.

“You're conscripted,” said Carrot.

Colon peeked out from under the brim.

“Report to Corporal Nobbs for your weapons. Lance-Constable Detritus will administer the oath.” He stood back. “Welcome to the Citizens' Watch. Remember, every lance-constable has a fieldmarshal's baton in his knapsack.”

The trolls hadn't moved.

“Ain't gonna be inna Watch,” said Bauxite.

“Officer material if ever I saw it,” said Carrot.

“Hey, you can't put them in the Watch!” shouted a dwarf from the crowd.

“Why, hello, Mr Stronginthearm,” said Carrot. “Good to see community leaders here. Why can't they be in the militia?”

All the trolls listened intently. Stronginthearm realized that he was suddenly the centre of attention, and hesitated.

“Well… you've only got the one dwarf, for one thing…” he began.

“ I'm a dwarf,” said Carrot, “technically.”

Stronginthearm looked a little nervous. The whole issue of Carrot's keenly embraced dwarfishness was a difficult one for the more politically minded dwarfs.

“You're a bit big,” he said lamely.

“Big? What's size got to do with being a dwarf?” Carrot demanded.

“Um… a lot?” whispered Cuddy.

“Good point,” said Carrot. “That's a good point.” He scanned the faces. “Right. We need some honest, law-abiding dwarfs… you there…”

“Me?” said an unwary dwarf.

“Have you got any previous convictions?”

“Well, I dunno… I suppose I used to believe very firmly that a penny saved is a penny earned—”

“Good. And I'll take… you two… and you. Four more dwarfs, yes? Can't complain about that, eh?”

“Ain't gonna be inna Watch,” said Bauxite again, but uncertainty modulated his tone.

“You trolls can't leave now,” said Detritus. “Otherwise, too many dwarfs. That's numbers, that is.”

“I'm not joining any Watch!” said a dwarf.

“Not man enough, eh?” said Cuddy.

“What? I'm as good as any bloody troll any day!”

“Right, that's sorted out then,” said Carrot, rubbing his hands together. “Acting-Constable Cuddy?”

“Sir?”

“Hey,” said Detritus, “how come he suddenly full constable?”

“Since he was in charge of the dwarf recruits,” said Carrot. “And you're in charge of the troll recruits, Acting-Constable Detritus.”

“I full acting-constable in charge of the troll recruits?”

“Of course. Now, if you would step out of the way, Lance-Constable Bauxite—”

Behind Carrot, Detritus drew a big proud breath.

“Ain't gonna—”

“Lance-Constable Bauxite! You horrible big troll! You standing up straight! You saluting right now! You stepping out of the way of Corporal Carrot! You two troll, you come here! Wurn… two-er… tree… four-er! You in the Watch now! Aaargh, I cannot believe it what my eye it seeing! Where you from, Bauxite?”

“Slice Mountain, but—”

“Slice Mountain! Slice Mountain? Only…” Detritus looked at his fingers for a moment, and rammed them behind his back. “Only two-er things come from Slice Mountain! Rocks… an'… an'…” he struck out wildly, “other sortsa rocks! What kind you, Bauxite?”

“What the hell's going on here?”

The Watch House door had opened. Captain Quirke emerged, sword in hand.

“ You two horrible troll! You raise your hand right now, you repeat troll oath –”

“Ah, captain,” said Carrot. “Can we have a word?”

“You're in real trouble, Corporal Garret,” snarled Quirke. “Who do you think you are?”

“ I will do what I told –”

“Don't wanna be inna—”

Wham!

“ I will do what I told –”

“Just the man on the spot, captain,” said Carrot cheerfully.

“Well, man on the spot, I'm the senior officer here, and you can damn well—”

“Interesting point,” said Carrot. He produced his black book. “I'm relieving you of your command.”

“— otherwise I get my goohuloog head kicked in .”

“— otherwise I get my goohuloog head kicked in .”

“Wha—? Are you mad?”

“No, sir, but I'm choosing to believe that you are. There are regulations laid down for this eventuality.”

“Where is your authority?” Quirke stared at the crowd. “Hah! I suppose you'll say this armed mob is your authority, eh?”

Carrot looked shocked.

“No. The Laws and Ordinances of Ankh-Morpork, sir. It's all down here. Can you tell me what evidence you have against the prisoner Coalface?”

“That damn troll? It's a troll!”

“Yes?”

Quirke looked around.

“Look, I don't have to tell you with everyone here—”

“As a matter of fact, according to the rules, you do. That's why it's called evidence. It means ‘that which is seen’.”

“Listen!” hissed Quirke, leaning towards Carrot. “He's a troll . He's as guilty as hell of something . They all are!”

Carrot smiled brightly.

Colon had come to know that smile. Carrot's face seemed to go waxy and glisten when he smiled like that.

“And so you locked him up?”

“Right!”

“Oh. I see. I understand now.”

Carrot turned away.

“I don't know what you think you're—” Quirke began.

People hardly saw Carrot move. There was just a blur, a sound like a steak being thumped on a slab, and the captain was flat on the cobbles.

A couple of members of the Day Watch appeared cautiously in the doorway.

Everyone became aware of a rattling noise. Nobby was spinning the morningstar round and round on the end of its chain, except that because the spiky ball was a very heavy spiky ball, and because the difference between Nobby and a dwarf was species rather than height, it was more a case of both of them orbiting around each other. If he let go, it was an even chance that the target would be hit by a spiky ball or an unexploded Corporal Nobbs. Neither prospect pleased.

“Put it down, Nobby,” hissed Colon, “I don't think they're going to make trouble…”

“I can't let go, Fred!”

Carrot sucked his knuckles.

“Do you think that comes under the heading of ‘minimum necessary force’, sergeant?” he asked. He appeared to be genuinely worried.

“Fred! Fred! What'll I do?”

Nobby was a terrified blur. When you are swinging a spiky ball on a chain, the only realistic option is to keep moving. Standing still is an interesting but brief demonstration of a spiral in action.

“Is he still breathing?” said Colon.

“Oh, yes. I pulled the punch.”

“Sounds minimum enough to me, sir,” said Colon loyally.

“ Fredddd! ”