Thud! - A Novel Of Discworld Part 40

...and perhaps that, it was said later, was what did it. Against the berserker, there is no defense. They had sworn to fight to the death, but not to this this death. The slowest four guards went down to the axe and the sword, the others scattered and ran. death. The slowest four guards went down to the axe and the sword, the others scattered and ran.

And now Vimes paused in front of the cowering old dwarfs, raising the weapons over his head- And halted, rocking like a statue.

Night, forever. But within it, a city, shadowy and only real in But within it, a city, shadowy and only real in certain ways. certain ways.

The ent.i.ty cowered in its alley, where the mist was rising. This could not have happened!

Yet it had. The streets had filled with...things. Animals! Birds! Changing shape! Screaming and yelling! And, above it all, higher than the rooftops, a lamb rocking back and forth in great slow motions, thundering over the cobbles...

And then bars had come down, slamming down, and the ent.i.ty had been thrown back.

But it had been so close! It had saved the creature, it was getting through, it was beginning to have control...and now this...

In the darkness of the inner city, above the rustle of the never-ending rain, it heard the sound of boots approaching.

A shape appeared in the mist.

It drew nearer.

Water cascaded off a metal helmet and an oiled leather cloak as the figure stopped and, entirely unconcerned, cupped its hand in front of its face and lit a cigar.

Then the match was dropped on the cobbles, where it hissed out, and the figure said: "What are you?"

The ent.i.ty stirred, like an old fish in a deep pool. It was too tired to flee.

"I am the Summoning Dark." It was not, in fact, a sound, but had it been, it would have been a hiss. "Who are you?"

"I am the Watchman."

"They would have killed his family!" The darkness lunged, and met resistance. "Think of the deaths they have caused! Who are you to stop me?"

"He created me. Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Who watches the watchmen? Me. I watch him. Always. You will not force him to murder for you." Who watches the watchmen? Me. I watch him. Always. You will not force him to murder for you."

"What kind of human creates his own policeman?"

"One who fears the dark"

"And so he should," said the ent.i.ty, with satisfaction.

"Indeed. But I think you misunderstand. I am not here to keep darkness out. I'm here to keep it in." There was a clink of metal as the shadowy watchman lifted a dark lantern and opened its little door. Orange light cut through the blackness. "Call me...the Guarding Dark. Imagine how strong I must be."

The Summoning Dark backed desperately into the alley, but the light followed it, burning it.

"And now," said the watchman, "get out of town."

-and went down as a werewolf landed on his back.

Angua drooled. The hair along her spine stood out like a saw blade. Her lips curled back like a wave. Her growl was from the back of a haunted cave. All together, these told the brain of anything monkey-shaped that movement meant death. And that stillness, while it also meant death, didn't mean immediate, this actual second this actual second, death, and was therefore the smart-monkey option.

Vimes didn't move. The growl knotted his muscles. Terror was in control.

I salute you, said a thought that was not his, and he felt the sudden absence of something whose presence he had not noticed before. In the blackness behind his eyes, some dark fin swished and vanished.

He heard a whimper, and the weight on him disappeared. He rolled over and saw, fading in the middle of the air, a crude drawing of an eye with a tail. It dwindled into nothing, and the all-enveloping darkness slowly gave way to flames and the light of the vurms. Blood had been spilled; they were pouring down the walls. He felt...

A certain amount of time pa.s.sed. Vimes jerked awake.

"I read it for him!" he said, mostly to rea.s.sure himself.

"You did, sir," said the voice of Angua, behind him. "Very clearly, too. We were more than two hundred yards away. Well done, sir. We thought you ought to have a rest."

"What have have I done well?" said Vimes, trying to sit up. The movement filled his world with pain, but he managed a brief glimpse before slumping back. I done well?" said Vimes, trying to sit up. The movement filled his world with pain, but he managed a brief glimpse before slumping back.

There was a lot of smoke in the cave, but there were actual torches flickering here and there. And a great many dwarfs, some distance away, some sitting down, some standing around in groups.

"Why are there so many dwarfs here, Sergeant?" he asked, looking up at the cavern roof. "That is, why are there so many dwarfs here that aren't actually trying to kill us?"

"They're from the Low King, sir. We're their prisoners...sort of...er...but not exactly..."

"Of Rhys? b.u.g.g.e.r that!" said Vimes, trying to get to his feet again. "I saved his b.l.o.o.d.y life once!" He managed to get upright, but then the world pivoted around him, and he would have fallen if Angua hadn't caught him and lowered him onto a rock. Well, at least he was sitting up now...

"Not exactly exactly prisoners," Angua said. "We can't go anywhere. But since we wouldn't know where to go even it we could go anywhere, it's all a bit moot. Sorry I'm only in a shift, sir, you know how it is. The dwarfs have promised to fetch my gear. Er...it's all gone political, sir. The dwarf in command seems a decent sort but he's way out of his depth, so he's sticking with what he knows, sir. And, er, he doesn't know a lot. Do you remember prisoners," Angua said. "We can't go anywhere. But since we wouldn't know where to go even it we could go anywhere, it's all a bit moot. Sorry I'm only in a shift, sir, you know how it is. The dwarfs have promised to fetch my gear. Er...it's all gone political, sir. The dwarf in command seems a decent sort but he's way out of his depth, so he's sticking with what he knows, sir. And, er, he doesn't know a lot. Do you remember anything anything about what happened? You've been out for a good twenty minutes." about what happened? You've been out for a good twenty minutes."

"Yes. There were...wooly lambs..." Vimes's voice trailed into silence for a while. Somehow, what he'd just said took the ring of veracity and dropped it in a deep, deep hole. "There weren't wooly lambs, right?" he asked hopelessly.

"I didn't see any," said Angua carefully. "I did see a striding, screaming, vengeful maniac, sir. But in a good way," she added.

The internal Vimes looked at memories he didn't remember from the first time around.

"I-" he began.

"Everything's...sort of fine, sir," said Angua quickly. "But come and see this. Bashfullsson said you ought to see everything."

"Bashfullsson...he's the know-it-all dwarf, right?" he said.

"Ah, it's all coming back, sir," said Angua. "Good. He was a bit worried about that."

Vimes was steadier on his feet now, but his right arm hurt like h.e.l.l, and all the other pains that the day had acc.u.mulated were coming back and waving. Angua carefully led him through puddles and across rocks as slippery as wet marble until they reached a stalagmite. It was about eight feet high.

It was a troll. It wasn't a rock shaped like a troll, it was a troll. They only got stonier when they died, Vimes knew, but the lines of this one had been softened by the milky rock dripped on the troll's head.

"But now look at this, sir," said Angua, leading him on. "They were destroying them..."

There was another stalagmite, lying on its side in a pool. It had been smashed off at the base. And it was...a dwarf.

Dwarfs crumble after death, just like humans, but all the armor, mail, chains, and heavy leather mean there's no great change to the eye of the casual observer. The flowing rock had covered it all in a glistening shroud.

Vimes straightened up and looked across the cavern. Shapes loomed in the gloom, all the way to the near wall, where the drip of ages had formed a perfect ivory waterfall, frozen in time.

"There are more?"

"About twenty, sir. Half of them had been smashed before you...arrived. Look at this one over here, sir. You can just make them out. They're sitting back-to-back, sir."

Vimes stared at the figures under the glaze, and shook his head. A dwarf and a troll, together, cemented in rock.

"Is there anything to eat?" he said. It wasn't the most awe-inspired thing to say, but it came from the stomach, with feeling.

"Our rations got lost in the excitement, sir. But the dwarfs will share theirs. They aren't unfriendly, sir. Just cautious."

"Share? They have dwarf bread?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"I thought it was illegal to give that to prisoners. I think I'll wait, thanks. And now, Sergeant, you can tell me about the excitement."

It hadn't exactly been an ambush; the dwarfs just caught up been an ambush; the dwarfs just caught up with them. Their captain had been given rather wide orders to follow Vimes and his party, and there had been a certain chilliness when he found that the party included two trolls. This was still Koom Valley, after all. Vimes felt a pang of sympathy for him; he'd had a simple job to do, and suddenly it was full of politics. Been there, done that, bought the singlet, thought Vimes. with them. Their captain had been given rather wide orders to follow Vimes and his party, and there had been a certain chilliness when he found that the party included two trolls. This was still Koom Valley, after all. Vimes felt a pang of sympathy for him; he'd had a simple job to do, and suddenly it was full of politics. Been there, done that, bought the singlet, thought Vimes.

Fortunately, Grag Bashfullsson had a way with words. Since they were all going the same way- And it had been a long way. The fleeing dwarfs had brought down the ceiling not far from the entrance tunnel, and a journey that had taken Vimes a few minutes had taken the pursuers the best part of a day, even with Sally scouting ahead. Angua spoke of caves even bigger than this, of vast waterfalls in the dark. Vimes said, yes, he knew.

Then the words of Where's My Cow? Where's My Cow? had boomed under Koom Valley, shaking the rock of ages and making the stalact.i.tes hum in sympathy, and the rest had been a matter of running... had boomed under Koom Valley, shaking the rock of ages and making the stalact.i.tes hum in sympathy, and the rest had been a matter of running...

"I can remember reading to Young Sam," said Vimes slowly. "But there were these...strange pictures in my head." He stopped. All that anger, all that red-hot rage, had flowed out of him in a torrent, without thought. "I killed those d.a.m.n soldiers..."

"Most of them, sir," said Angua cheerfully. "And there's a couple of miners who got in the way who'll be aching for months."

It was was all coming back to Vimes now. He wished it wasn't. There was always a part of the human brain that objected to fighting dwarfs. They were child-sized. Oh, they were also at least as strong as a human, and more resilient, and would take any advantage in a fight, and if you were lucky, you learned to overcome that prejudice all coming back to Vimes now. He wished it wasn't. There was always a part of the human brain that objected to fighting dwarfs. They were child-sized. Oh, they were also at least as strong as a human, and more resilient, and would take any advantage in a fight, and if you were lucky, you learned to overcome that prejudice before before you were hacked off at the knees, but it was always there... you were hacked off at the knees, but it was always there...

"I remember those old dwarfs," he said. "They were cowering like little maggots. I wanted to smash them..."

"You resisted for almost four seconds, sir, and then I brought you down," said Angua.

"And that was a good thing, was it?" said Vimes.

"Oh, yes. It's why you're still here, Commander," said Bashfullsson, appearing from behind a stalagmite. "I'm glad to see you up and about again. This is a historical day! And you still have a soul, it appears! Isn't that nice?"

"Now you listen to me-" Vimes began.

"No, you listen to me me, Commander. Yes, I knew you'd come to Koom Valley, because the Summoning Dark would come here. It needed you to bring it. No, listen listen to me, because we don't have much time. The Summoning Dark symbol commands an ent.i.ty as old as the universe. But it has no real body and very little physical strength; it can cover a million dimensions in the blink of an eye but could barely make it across a room. It works through living creatures, especially ones it finds...amenable. It found to me, because we don't have much time. The Summoning Dark symbol commands an ent.i.ty as old as the universe. But it has no real body and very little physical strength; it can cover a million dimensions in the blink of an eye but could barely make it across a room. It works through living creatures, especially ones it finds...amenable. It found you you, Commander, a cauldron of anger, and in small, subtle ways it saw that you got it to this place."

"I believe him, sir," said Angua quickly. "It was the one called up as a curse by one of the miners. Remember? The one who drew the sign in his own blood? On a locked door? And you-"

"There was a door that stung when I touched it, I remember..." said Vimes. "Are you telling me that behind behind that door he-oh, no..." that door he-oh, no..."

"He was already dead by then, sir, I'm positive about that," said Angua quickly. "We couldn't have saved him."

"Helmclever said-" Vimes began, and Bashfullsson must have seen the panic rising in his eyes, because he grabbed both his hands and spoke fast and urgently: "No! You didn't kill him! You didn't even touch him! You were afraid that if you did, I'd say you'd used force, remember?"

"He dropped dead! How much force is that?" Vimes shouted. His voice echoed, and heads turned all across the cavern. "There was the symbol, wasn't there?"

"It's true that the...creature tends to leave a, a signature on events, but you would have had to touch him! You did not not! You did not raise a hand! I think you would have resisted even then! Resisted and won! Do you hear me? Calm down. Calm down down. He died of fear and guilt. You must realize that."

"What reason did he have to feel guilty?"

"Every reason, for a dwarf. That mine bore down so heavily on him." The grag turned to Angua. "Sergeant, could you get the commander some water? It's as pure in these pools as anywhere in the world. Well, it is if you pick one without a body floating in it."

"Y'know, you could have avoided that last sentence?" said Vimes. He sat down on a rock. He could feel himself shaking now.

"And then I got the d.a.m.n thing here?" he managed.

"Yes, Commander. And it got you here, too, I suspect. Cheery says she saw you drop into churning water half a mile from where we are now. Even a champion swimmer wouldn't have survived that."

"I woke up on a beach-"

"It got you there. It swam your body for you."

"But I was all knocked about!"

"Oh, it wasn't your friend friend, Commander. It needed to get you here in one piece. It didn't have to be a good-looking piece. And then...you disappointed it, Commander. You disappointed it. Or, perhaps, impressed it. It's hard to tell. You wouldn't strike the helpless, you see. You resisted. I had the sergeant here bring you down because I was frightened that the struggle inside would rip your tendons from your bones."

"They were just frightened old men..."

"And so, it appears to have let you go," said the dwarf. "I wonder why? Historically, anyone subject to the Summoning Dark dies insane."

Vimes reached up and took a mug of water from Angua. It was teeth-aching cold and the best drink he'd ever tasted. And his mind worked fast, flying in emergency supplies of common sense, as human minds do, to construct a huge anchor in sanity and prove that what happened hadn't really happened and, if it had happened, hadn't happened much.

It was all mystic, that's what it was. Oh, it might might all be true, but how could you ever tell? You had to stick to the things you can see. And you had to keep reminding yourself of that, too. all be true, but how could you ever tell? You had to stick to the things you can see. And you had to keep reminding yourself of that, too.

Yeah, that was it. What had really happened, eh? A few signs? Well, anything can look like you want it to, if you're worried and confused enough, yes? A sheep can look like a cow, right? Ha!

As for the rest, well, Bashfullsson seemed a decent lad, but you didn't have to buy into his worldview. Same with Mr. Shine. That sort of thing could spook you.

He'd been wound up about Young Sam, and when he'd seen those devil guards, of course of course he'd gone for them. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately. It seemed like every hour brought some new problem. The mind played funny tricks. he'd gone for them. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately. It seemed like every hour brought some new problem. The mind played funny tricks.

Surviving the underground river? Easy. He must have kept himself afloat. There were a lot of things the body would rather do than die.

There...some logical thought, and the mystic becomes...well, straightforward. You can stop feeling like some puppet and become a man with a purpose once again.

He put down the empty mug and stood up-purposefully.

"I'm going to see how my men are," he announced.