The Fifth Elephant - Terry Pratchett [58]
He counted the lumps again.
There were twenty-six, and there was a knock at the door.
This caused it to swing inward, and Colon to jump up in evil triumph.
“Ah-ha! Burst in on me, eh?…oh…”
The “oh” was because the knocker was Constable Dorfl, the golem. He was taller than the doorway and strong enough to tear a troll in half; he’d never done this, since he was an intensely moral being, but not even Colon was going to pick an argument with someone who had glowing red holes where his eyes should be. Ordinary golems would not harm a human because they had magic words in their head that ordered them not to. Dorfl had no magic words, but he didn’t harm people because he’d decided that it wasn’t moral. This left the worrying possibility that, given enough provocation, he might think again.
Beside the golem was Constable Shoe, saluting smartly.
“We’ve come to pick up the wages chitty, sir,” he said.
“The what?”
“The wages chitty, sir. The monthly chitty, sir. And then we take it to the palace and bring back the wages, sir.”
“I don’t know anything about that!”
“I put it on your desk yesterday, sir. Signed by Lord Vetinari, sir.”
Colon couldn’t hide the flicker in his eyes. The black ash in the fireplace was, by now, overflowing.
Shoe followed his gaze.
“I haven’t seen any such thing,” said Colon, while the color drained from his face like a sucked popsicle.
“I’m sure I did, sir,” said Constable Shoe. “I wouldn’t forget a thing like that, sir. In fact, I distinctly remember saying to Constable Visit, ‘Washpot, I’m just going to take this—’”
“Look, you can see I’m a busy man!” snapped Colon. “Get one of the sergeants to sort it out!”
“There’s no sergeants left except Sergeant Flint, sir, and he spends all his time going around asking people what he should be doing,” said Constable Shoe. “Anyway, sir, it’s the senior officer who must sign the chitty—”
Colon stood up, leaning on his knuckles, and shouted, “Oh, I ‘must,’ must I? That’s a nerve and no mistake! ‘Must,’ eh? Most of you lot are lucky anyone even gives you a job! Bunch of zombies and loonies and lawn ornaments and rocks! I’ve had it up to here with you!”
Shoe leaned back out of range of the spittle.
“Then I am afraid I must take this up with the Guild of Watchmen, sir,” he said.
“Guild of Watchmen? Hah! And since when has there been a Guild of Watchmen?”
“Dunno. What’s the time now?” said Corporal Nobbs, ambling into the room. “Got to be a couple of hours, at least. Morning, Captain.”
“What are you doing here, Nobby?”
“That’s Mister Nobbs to you, Captain. And I’m president of the Guild of Watchmen, since you ask.”
“There’s no such bloody thing!”
“All legit, Captain. Registered at the Palace and everything. Amazin’ how people rushed to join, too.” He pulled his grubby notebook. “Got a few matters to take up with you, if you have a moment. Well, I say a few—”
“I’m not putting up with this!” bellowed Colon, his face crimson. “This is high treason! You’re all sacked! You’re all—”
“We’re all on strike,” said Nobby, calm in the face.
“You can’t go on strike while I’m sacking you!”
“Our strike headquarters are in the back room of the Bucket, on Gleam Street,” said Nobby.
“Here, that’s my boozer! I forbid you to go on strike in my own pub!”
“We shall be there when you wish to talk terms. Come, brothers. We are now officially in a dispute situation.”
They marched out.
“Don’t bother to come back!” Colon shouted after them.
Bonk wasn’t what Vimes had expected. In fact he’d find it hard to say what he had expected, except that this wasn’t it.
It occupied a narrow valley with a white-water river winding through it. There were city walls. They were not like those of Ankh-Morpork, which had become at first a barrier to expansion and then a source of masonry for it. These had an inside and an outside.
There were castles on the hills. There were castles on most hills in these parts. And there were high gates across the road.
Detritus thumped on the side of the coach. Vimes stuck his head