The trade agreement with Istanzia wasn't in their favor. As the delegation left the room, the head of Istanzia's merchants stopped in front of Drumknott and hooked his cane onto the secretary's shoulder. Drumknott's sharp intake of breath summoned Lord Vetinari, who suddenly had his hand on the merchant's chest. The man gurgled.
"You will leave my staff alone, Lord Yevnovkov," the patrician said calmly.
Yevnovkov gurgled again, and Vetinari removed his hand.
"Good."
Yevnovkov fled the room.
"Thank you, my lord," said Drumknott, rubbing his shoulder.
"I didn't know that still hurt," said Lord Vetinari.
"Only when it's grabbed."
o0o
Moist noticed that Drumknott tended to favor one arm. He always shifted files to his right hand, and Moist learned early on not to approach him from his left side. It was as if he'd been injured. But that didn't make sense. You didn't get war wounds from filing.
Moist asked Adora about it. "What do you know about Drumknott's shoulder?"
"Which shoulder? The one that got stabbed?"
"Stabbed?"
"Winter of 1990," she said. "Ask de Worde about it sometime. He was caught up in the whole mess."
Well. Apparently this city had been exciting even before he got here.