“I don't know. Is the captain here?”
“That's it, sarge,” said Snouty. “A runner come last night with an envelope for the captain, and I took it up and there was the captain waiting, so I thought, this is funny, haha, I thought, he's not normally in this early—”
“Faster please, Snouty,” said Vimes, as the man started to watch the oscillating spoon again.
“Well, when I took him up his cocoa later on he was jus' sittin' there, hnah, starin' right at nothing. He said ‘thank you, Snouty’ when I give him the cocoa, hnah, though. Always very polite in that, hnah, respect. But when I went up just now he was gone.”
“He's an old man, Snouty, you can't expect him to be here all—”
“So's his inkwell, sarge. He never took it home before.” And Vimes saw that Snouty's eyes were more red-rimmed than usual.
He sighed. “Any sign of the envelope?”
“No, sarge,” said Snouty, glancing again at the spoon in Nobby's hand. It was a very cheap one, Vimes noted, made of some pot metal.
“In that case we just keep the peace, Snouty,” he said.
“Not a lot of that about, sarge.”
“We'll have to see what we can find. Come with me.”
Snouty looked reluctant. “Just want to keep an eye on the spoon, sarge; we've only got five left and kids like that one'll pinch the—”
“He can
Nobby downed the last scalding mouthful, stuck the spoon in his pocket, stuck out a porridge-laden tongue at Snouty, dropped the bowl on the ground and took to his heels.
Vimes strode back into the office, picked up the porridge ladle and rattled it on the sides of the empty cauldron. Heads looked up.
“All right, my sons! This is what we're going to do! All married men've got permission to nip home for an hour to stop your wives fretting! The rest of you, you're on unpaid overtime! Anyone surprised?”
Wiglet raised a hand. “We've all got family, sarge,” he said.
“And the best thing you can do for them is make sure there's a bit of law around the place,” said Vimes. “We don't know what's been happening in the other divisions, except that it sounds bad. So this House is staying open, understand? Day and night! Yes, lance-constable?”
“But our mum will be worrying, sarge,” said young Sam.
Vimes hesitated, but only for a moment. “Snouty'll nip out with any messages you have, lad. The same goes for everyone else,” he said. “We're going to go out on patrol soon. Yeah, I know we're Night Watch. So what? It's looking pretty black to me at the moment! Lance-constable, come on out in the yard, will you?”
Vimes walked back out into the morning.
In theory, one of the purposes of the yard was for training. It was seldom used for that. The Night Watch eschewed violence, as a rule. When threats or superior numbers had no effect, they preferred to run.
There were some mouldering targets in a shed, along with some straw men for stabbing practice. Vimes tugged them out on to the cobbles as the lance-constable appeared behind him.
“I thought you said these things were useless, sarge.”
“They are,” said Vimes. “I've put them here for you to land on. You're walking around, Sam, with a weapon you don't know how to use. That's worse than walking around knowing how to use a weapon and not having one. A man with a weapon he doesn't know how to use is likely to have it shoved where the sun does not shine.”
He took off his breastplate and helmet, and tossed his sword belt into a corner.
“All right, attack me,” he said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that some of the men had wandered into the yard and were watching.
“I can't just stab you, sarge!” Sam wailed.
“No, but I'd like you to try.”
Sam hesitated again. I wasn't
“You're grinning, sarge,” said Sam.
“Well?”
“You're just grinning and standing there, sarge,” said Sam. “I know I'm going to get a hiding, 'cos you haven't got a sword and you're grinning.”
“Worried about getting blood on your nice sword, lad? All right, throw it away. Feel better? You were in a gang, right? Of course you were. Everyone was. You're still alive. So you must've learned how to fight.”
“Yeah, sarge, but that was, you know, dirty fighting…”
“We're dirty people. Do your worst,” said Vimes.
“I don't want to hurt you, sarge!”
“That's your first mistake—”
Sam spun and lashed out.
Vimes stepped back, caught the foot and helped it on its journey upwards.
I was quick too, he thought, as Sam landed flat on his back. And not too bad at cunning. But I've learned artful since then.
“It showed in your eyes,” he said to the sprawling Sam. “But you've got hold of the basic idea. There's no rules.”
He sensed the change behind him. It included the very muffled sound of a chuckle. He glanced back at Sam, who was looking past him.
The blow was a neat one, to the back of where the head would have been if Vimes hadn't stepped smartly sideways. As it was, he turned and grabbed the arm and looked into the face of Ned Coates.
“Nice day off, Ned?” he said.
“Yes, sarge, thank you. Just wanted to see how good you were.”
