Discworld 30 - Thud! by Pratchett Terry

Author:Pratchett, Terry [Terry, Pratchett,]
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Acrobat Distiller 7.0.5 (Windows)
Published: 2010-06-21T04:00:00+00:00

Discworld 30 - Thud!

Discworld 30 - Thud!

'Thank you, sir. Nor will I.' 'Where are your prisoners?' 'We spread them around the Watch House yards,' said Vimes. 'As they wake up we hose 'em clean, take their names, give 'em a receipt for their weapon and a hot drink and push 'em out into the street.' 'Their weapons are culturally very important to them, Vimes,' said Vetinari. 'Yeah, Sir, I know. I myself have a strong cultural bias against getting my brains bashed in and my knees cut off,' said Vimes, stifling a yawn and wincing as his ribs objected. 'Indeed. Were there any casualties in the battle?' 'None that won't heal.' Vimes grimaced. 'I have to report that Mr A. E. Pessimal sustained a broken arm and multiple bruises, though.' Vetinari actually looked taken aback. 'The inspector? What was he doing?' 'Er, attacking a troll, sir.' I'm sorry? Mr A. E. Pessimal attacked a troll?' 'Yessir.' 'A. E. Pessimal?' Vetinari repeated. 'That's the man, sir.' 'A whole troll?' 'Yessir. With his teeth, sir: 'Mr A. E. Pessimal? You are sure? Small man? Very clean shoes?' 'Yessir.' Vetinari grabbed a helpful question from the gathering throng. 'Why?' Vimes coughed. 'Well, Sir...' The troll mob was a tableau. Trolls stood or sat or lay where they had been when the Big Hammer had struck. There were a few slow imbibers who put up a bit of a fight, and one who had stuck with a bottle of looted sherry put up a spirited last-drop stand until golem Constable Dorfl picked him up bodily and bounced him on his head. Vimes walked through it all, as the squad dragged or rolled slumbering trolls into neat lines to await the wagons. And then…

The day was not improving for Brick. He'd drunk a beer. Well, maybe more'n one. Where was der harm in dat? And now, there, right in front of him, wearing one o' dem helmets an' everyt'ing, was, yeah, could be a dwarf, insofar as the fizzing, sizzling pathways of his brain were capable of deciding anything at all. What der hell, they decided, it wasn't a troll and dat was what it was all about, right? An' here was his club, right here in his han'. Instinct caused Vimes to turn as a troll opened red eyes, blinked and began to swing a club. Too slowly, too slowly in the suddenly frozen time, he tried to dive away, and he felt the club smash into his side and lift him, lift him up and tip him on to the ground. He could hear shouting as the troll lumbered forward, club raised again to make Vimes at one with the bedrock. Brick became aware that he was being attacked. He stopped what he was doing and, with sparks going fwizzle! in his brain, looked down at his right knee. Some little gnome or somethin' was attackin' him wi' a blunt sword and kickin' an' scream in' like a mad fing. He put it

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