And so he didn't bother to stop as the cart appeared at the end of the alley. It was a heggler's wagon, probably trying to take a short cut and escape the “no one being able to move because of everyone else” chaos in the main streets. The man, the back of his wagon piled ten feet high with boxes, his vehicle scraping the walls, looked in horror at the stampede heading for him. No one had any brakes and absolutely no one was going to go backwards.

Vimes, in the rear, watched the group flow over and under the wagon, to the splintering of boxes and the pop of exploding eggs. The horse danced in the shafts and men dived through its legs or clear over its back.

When Vimes reached it he clambered on to the box just as an arrow hit the woodwork. He grinned desperately at the driver.

“Jump,” he suggested, and smacked the horse on the flank with the flat of his sword. Both men were thrown back as it reared and sent the remains of the stricken load sliding off the wagon.

Vimes hauled the driver upright as soon as the debris stopped falling. He was covered in egg.

“Sorry about that, sir. Watch business. Ask for Sergeant Keel. Got to rush!”

Behind them the wagon rattled up the alley, wheel rims knocking sparks off the walls. There were doorways and side alleys to escape into, but Carcer's crew would certainly be slowed down.

The rest of his crew had stopped when they heard the noise, but Vimes piled into them and forced them on until they reached a road, blocked with carts and thronged with people.

“Well, you got your soldiers covered in egg, sarge,” said Sam, with a worried grin. “What's all that about?”

“It's some of the Unmentionables,” said Vimes. “Probably want to settle the score.” Well, that was close enough.

“But I saw watchmen and soldiers with 'em,” said Fred Colon.

“Sarge, it's me, sarge! Please, sarge!” Nobby elbowed his way through the men.

“Is this a good time, Nobby?” said Vimes.

“There's men after you, sarge!”

“Well done, Nobby!”

“Carcer, sarge! He's got a job with Snapcase! Captain of the Palace Guard, sarge! And they gonna get you! Snapcase told 'em to, sarge! My mate Scratch'n'Sniff is the under-bootboy at the palace and he was in the yard and heard 'em talking, sarge!”

I should have known, Vimes thought. Snapcase was a devious devil. And now Carcer's got his feet under another bastard's table. Captain of the Guard…

“I haven't been making a lot of friends lately,” said Vimes.

“Okay, gentlemen, I'm going to run. If you lot melt away into the crowd you'll be fine, I expect.”

“No fear, sarge,” said Sam, and there was a general murmur of agreement.

“We had an amnesty,” said Dickins. “They can't do this!”

“Anyway, they were shooting at everyone,” said one of the soldiers. “Bastards! They need a good going-over!”

“They've got bows,” said Vimes.

“So we ambush 'em, sarge,” said Dickins. “Choose your ground and fight up close and a crossbow's just a piece of wood.”

“Did any of you hear me?” said Vimes. “They're after me. Not you. You do not want to mix it with Carcer. You, Snouty, you shouldn't be doing this at your time of life.”

The old jailer glared at him through runny eyes. “That's a hell of a thing for you, hnah, to say to me, sarge,” he said.

“How do we know he won't decide to come after us anyway?” said Dickins. “An amnesty's an amnesty, right? They can't do this!” There was a general chorus on the lines of “Yeah, that's right!”

It's happening, Vimes thought. They are talking themselves right into it. But what can I do? We've got to face 'em. I've got to face 'em. I've got to face Carcer. The thought of leaving him here, with all he knows…

“How about if we head down Cable Street?” said Dickins. “Lots of little alleyways off there. They'll go rushing along, thinking we've bolted for the Watch House, and we'll 'ave 'em! We ain't standing for this, sarge.”

Vimes sighed. “Okay,' he said. Thank you. You're of one mind?”

There was a cheer.

“Then I won't make a speech,” said Vimes. “There isn't time. I'll just say this. If we don't win this, if we don't see them off…well, we've got to, that's all. Otherwise it'll be…very bad for this city. Very bad.”

“That's right,” Dickins cut in, insistently. “There was an amnesty.”

“But, look,” said one of the soldiers. “I don't know half the men here. If we're going to close in, we want to know who's on our side…”

“That's right, hnah,” said Snouty. “I mean, some of them chasing us was watchmen!”

Vimes raised his eyes. The wide alley in front of them, known as Lobsneaks, stretched all the way to Cable Street. It was lined with gardens, and there were purple flowers on the bushes.

The morning air smelled of lilac.

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