Thud! - Terry Pratchett [114]
“But even the rivers moved over the years, and any amount of boulders have rolled down from the mountains,” said Sir Reynold. “I’m told the area looks nothing like that now.”
“Even so,” said Vimes, in the same dreamy voice, “this map will work for thousands of years. It doesn’t mark a rock or a hollow or a cave, it just marks a spot. I can pinpoint it. That is, if I had a pin.”
“I have one!” Sir Reynold said triumphantly, reaching to his lapel. “I spotted it in the street yesterday, and of course hwe all know the old saying: ‘See a pin and pick it up, and all day long—’ ”
“Yes, thank you,” said Vimes, taking it. He walked to the end of the table and picked up one end of the painting, and dragged it back down the length of the table, the heavy paper flapping after him.
He pinned the two ends together, held up the circle he had made, and lowered it over his head.
“The truth is in the mountains,” he said. “For years you’ve been looking at a line of mountains. It’s really a circle of mountains.”
“But I knew that!” said Sir Reynold.
“In a way, sir, but you probably didn’t understand it until now, yes? Rascal was standing somewhere important.”
“hWell, yes. But it hwas a cave, Commander. He specifically mentions a cave. That’s hwhy people have searched along the valley hwalls. The painting’s set right in the middle, near the river.”
“Then there’s something we still don’t know!” said Vimes, annoyed that a big moment had so quickly become a small one. “I’ll find out what it is when I get there!”
There. He’d said it. But he’d known that he was going to go, known for…how long? It seemed like forever, but had it seemed like forever yesterday? This afternoon? He could see the place in his mind’s eye. Vimes at Koom Valley! He could practically taste the air! He could hear the roaring of the river, which ran as cold as ice!
“Sam—” Sybil began.
“No, this has got to be sorted out,” Vimes said quickly. “I don’t care about the stupid secret! Those deep-downers murdered our dwarfs, remember? They think the painting is a map they can use, and that’s why they’re going there. I’ve got to go after them.”
“Look, Sam, if—” Sybil tried.
“We can’t afford a war between the trolls and the dwarfs, dear. That business the other night was just a dumb gang fight. A real war in Ankh-Morpork would wreck the place! And somehow it’s all tied up with this!”
“I agree! I want to come, too!” Sybil screamed.
“Besides, I’ll be perfectly safe if—what?” Vimes gaped at his wife while his mental gears ripped into reverse. “No, it’s too dangerous!”
“Sam Vimes, I’ve dreamed of visiting Koom Valley all my life, so don’t you think for one moment you’re gallivanting off to see it and leave me at home!”
“I don’t gallivant! I’ve never gallivanted. I don’t know how to vant! I don’t even have a galli! But there’s going to be a war there soon!”
“Then I shall tell them we’re not involved!” said Sybil calmly.
“That won’t work!”
“Then it won’t work in Ankh-Morpork, either,” said Sybil, with the air of some player cunningly knocking out four dwarfs in one go. “Sam, you know you’re going to lose this. There’s no point in arguing. Besides, I speak dwarfish. We’ll take Young Sam, too.”
“No!”
“So that’s all sorted, then,” said Sybil, apparently struck by sudden deafness. “If you want to catch up with the dwarfs, I suggest we leave as soon as possible.”
Sir Reynold turned to her with his mouth open.
“But, Ladeah Sybil, armies are already massing there. It’s no place for a ladeah!”
Vimes winced. Sybil had made up her mind. This was going to be like watching that dwarf being flamed by dragons, all over again.
Lady Sybil’s bosom, which she was allowed to have, expanded as she took a deep breath; it seemed to lift her slightly off the ground.
“Sir Reynold,” she said, with a side order of ice. “In the Year of the Lice, my great-grandmother once cooked, personally, a full dinner for eighteen in a military redoubt that was entirely surrounded by bloodthirsty Klatchians, and she