Men at Arms - Terry Pratchett [85]
—Corporal Nobbs was a kind of mechanical porcupine of blades, bows, points and knobbly things on the end of chains.
“You sure, Nobby?” said Carrot. “There’s nothing you want to leave?”
“It’s so hard to choose, sir.”
Detritus was hanging on to his huge bow.
“That all you’re taking, Detritus?”
“No sir! Taking Flint and Morraine, sir!”
The two trolls who had been working in the armory had formed up behind Detritus.
“Swore ’em in, sir,” said Detritus. “Used troll oath.”
Flint saluted amateurishly.
“He said he’d kick our goohuloog heads in if we didn’t join up and do what we’re told, sir,” he said.
“Very old troll oath,” said Detritus. “Very famous, very traditional.”
“One of ’em could carry the Klatchian fire engine—” Nobby began hopefully.
“No, Nobby. Well…welcome to the Watch, men.”
“Corporal Carrot?”
“Yes, Cuddy?”
“It’s not fair. They’re trolls.”
“We need every man we can get, Cuddy.”
Carrot stood back. “Now, we don’t want people to think we’re looking for trouble,” he said.
“Oh, dressed like this, sir, we won’t have to look for trouble,” said Sergeant Colon despondently.
“Question, sir?” said Angua.
“Yes, Lance-Constable Angua?”
“Who’s the enemy?”
“Looking like this, we won’t have any problem finding enemies,” said Sergeant Colon.
“We’re not looking for enemies, we’re looking for information,” said Carrot. “The best weapon we can use right now is the truth, and to start with, we’re going to the Fools’ Guild to find out why Brother Beano stole the gonne.”
“Did he steal the gonne?”
“I think he may have, yes.”
“But he died before the gonne was stolen!” said Colon.
“Yes,” said Carrot. “I know that.”
“Now that,” said Colon, “is what I calls an alibi.”
The squad formed up and, after a brief discussion among the trolls as to which was their left foot and which was their right, marched away. Nobby kept looking back longingly to the fire machine.
Sometimes it’s better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness.
Ten minutes later they’d pushed through the crowds and were outside the Guilds.
“See?” Carrot said.
“They back on to each other,” said Nobby. “So what? There’s still a wall between them.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Carrot. “We’ll jolly well find out.”
“Have we got time?” said Angua. “I thought we were going to see the Day Watch.”
“There’s something I must find out first,” said Carrot. “The Fools haven’t told me the truth.”
“Hang on a minute, hang on a minute,” said Sergeant Colon. “This is going altogether just a bit too far by half. Look, I don’t want us to kill anyone, right? I happen to be sergeant around here, if anyone’s interested. Understand, Carrot? Nobby? No shooting or swordplay. It’s bad enough barging into Guild property, but we’ll get into really serious trouble if we shoot anyone. Lord Vetinari won’t stop at sarcasm. He might use”—Colon swallowed—”irony. So that’s an order. What do you want to do, anyway?”
“I just want people to tell me things,” said Carrot.
“Well, if they don’t, you’re not to hurt them,” said Colon. “Look, you can ask questions, fair enough. But if Dr. Whiteface starts getting difficult, we’re to come away, right? Clowns give me the creeps. And he’s worst of all. If he won’t answer, we’re to leave peacefully and, oh, I don’t know, think of something else. That’s an order, like I said. Are you clear about this? It’s an order.”
“If he won’t answer my questions,” said Carrot, “I’m to leave peacefully. Right.”
“So long as that’s understood.”
Carrot knocked on the Fools’ door, reached up, caught the custard pie as it emerged from the slot and rammed it back hard. Then he kicked the door so that it swung inward a few inches.
Someone behind it said “Ow.”
The door opened a bit further to reveal a small clown covered in whitewash and custard.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.
“I just wanted to get into the spirit of the thing,” said Carrot.