Chapter 7

Twist

Format note: Footnotes have been placed at the ends of the sub-sections for ease in scrolling. Hats off to whoever thought of that first.

Disclaimer: See previous 6 chapters.

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Commander Vimes was patrolling the streets, deep in thought. So, the Patrician, Downey and his wife had kidnapped Lord Rust's son. That was not an everyday occurrence, even for Ankh-Morpork. Undoubtedly Lord Rust had already had a few words with Lord Vetinari and the matter had been as settled as it was going to get while Frederick Rust was still being held hostage. That wasn't what was bothering the Commander, however. What was really bothering him was the question "How long are they going to be able to keep this a secret?"

--

Corporal Nobbs was on desk duty. Things were relatively quiet in the Psuedopolis Yard at the moment, which was good. That meant there was a quiet place where Nobby could put his feet up and have a smoke. Sitting behind the desk next to Nobby, was Corporal Ping. Ping was working very industriously on writing a report, when an extremely angry noble stormed into the yard. Ping and Nobby both looked up, their Enraged Superior Alarms blaring at full scale. Lord Rust was standing in the doorway, his calm façade giving away immediately that everybody better do exactly what he said or it wasn't going to be pretty. Even the watchmen at the back of the room snapped to attention. Rust glanced at the two desks, wrote Nobby out of the scene, and swooped down onto the unfortunate Ping.

"Listen to me, watchman. I want every watchman in this Yard on Scoone Avenue in thirty minutes."

"Yessir." Had Ping shrunk any further into his chair, he would have fallen through the hole in the back and melded into the floor.

"I mean every watchman. Even the grit - the dwarves and the trolls."

"Yessir."

"There will be consequences if there are members of this watch elsewhere."

"Yessir," Ping squeaked. Rust nodded, glared at the assembled company, and left. Ping gave Nobby a terrified look. "What ought we to do? We can't have /every/ watchman on Scoone Avenue! Some are on patrol!"

Corporal Nobbs had a very well-developed survival instinct. And what he saw in Rust's threat was certain death. "Send out Buggy* to find every watchman on patrol. Have them all on Scoone Avenue. Have him tell them if tell if they're not there in half an hour -" Corporal Nobbs paused. Being only a corporal, he did not have the rank to punish some of the officers out on patrol. He knew Sergeant Angua was out and Captain Carrot and . . .

What about Mister Vimes?

"- they'll have Lord Rust to answer to," he said finally. "And have Captain Carrot tell Mister Vimes."

[*Corporal Buggy Swires is a gnome who patrols the streets of Ankh-Morpork on the back of a starling. When messages need to be delivered quickly and en masse, even the clacks was no match for Swires' rather . . . aggressive method of delivering messages. Being assaulted by a starling is certainly not fun.]

--

Commander Vimes was staring hard at a point somewhere above the Patrician's left ear. Captain Carrot was standing at attention next to him. In front of them, Vetinari was riffling through several police reports. "On the matter of the arrest of Harold 'Chuckie' Martin last week, Commander -" There was a knock at the door. Vetinari gave Vimes a quizzical look. The Duke shrugged. "Enter."

"Captain Carrot needed in the hall, sir!" A voice yelled through the mahogany.

"Swires," Carrot said. "If I may be excused . . .?" Vetinari gave a nod and Carrot exited into the hall.

"There have been several charges brought against Sergeant Detritus in the manner he handled the arrest, Commander."

"Sir?"

"Witnesses said that your Sergeant unnecessarily broke down the wall of the house, Commander. The whole Widdershins wall of the building, really," Vetinari said, looking at the iconographs.

"I'm sure Detritus did what he felt necessary, sir."

"Doubtless." The door to the Office cracked open and Carrot leaned in, his big faced creased in worry.

"Er, there seems to be a bit or trouble sir. Lord Rust had demanded all officers on Scoone Avenue in thirty minutes, sir. Under penalty of consequences." Carrot glanced at the two men, both of whom looked, if not slightly annoyed then extremely angry. Or as angry as Vetinari ever got close to looking. Vimes turned to face the Patrician, very slowly.

"Sir?"

Vetinari flashed one of those lightening-fast smiles. "Do what you feel necessary, Commander. I'll meet you there."

--

Sybil Vimes stood behind the bay window in the front of the Ramkin mansion. There was quite an interesting spectacle outside. Almost every day watchman in the force was milling around in front of the Vimes mansion on the cobbles of Scoone Avenue. Corporal Nobbs was in the middle of it all, making a valiant attempt to restore some sort of order. Dorfl and Colon were at his side, Colon shouting things at people and Dorfl merely looking at all the watchman. Sybil knew watchman well enough to see that they were almost at the point of deciding that there was no immediate danger and that they would decide to keep it that way. A few were already pulling dogends out from behind their ears. The presence of her husband, however, was absent. That was slightly odd. She could only assume he'd be along in a few moments.

"What's happening, mummy?" young Sam demanded, appearing at her side, banana in hand.

"I don't know Sam," she replied, picking her son up and holding him so that he could better see the spectacle on the street. "But I think it would be a very good idea to be nice to Daddy tonight. I think he'll be in one of his moods." She pushed her son's nose. He giggled.

"I won't put bananananas in your bed."

"Sam?"

"Ooops." Sam jumped out of his mother's arms and fled. Sybil watched her son go, decided that he had far too much of his father in him to be good, and turned her gaze back to the watchman on the street. Lord Rust was standing amid them now. Things were going to get interesting when Sam showed up.

--

Lord Downey was sitting at his desk, grading the written mid-terms of the upperclassmen when there came a rapping, tapping at his chamber window*. He turned from the organized stack of papers to see the Patrician hanging outside from the rope of a grappling hook. Downey motioned for him to open the window. A small circle of glass tinkled to the floor several seconds later. "I really wish you wouldn't do that, Havelock."

"Old habits die hard." The Patrician unlocked the window, swung the panes open, and dropped into the office. "We might be in a little bit of trouble, Downey." Lord Downey raised an eyebrow. "Lord Rust has the watchman massing on Scoone Avenue."

"What?" Lord Downey jumped to his feet, crossed the office and began pulling on his Assassin's garb. "Why didn't he call in Lord Venturi's infantry, if he's so angry? Why on the Disc did he sink to the level of watchmen?" Vetinari shrugged.

"I have no clue. I think it's something to do with getting at Sybil and me, somehow. Massing our own forces against us, sort of thing." Downey let out an exasperated sigh. "I know, he has no common sense. But the Times is going to go crazy when it gets a hold on this story, and I'll never live that one down. Rulers aren't supposed to take hostages from their own City Council members." Lord Downey slid the final knife into its hidden holster and looked Vetinari up and down.

"Are you wearing green, Havelock?"

"It's better for camouflage," Vetinari snapped indignantly. "And for some reason I'm having trouble thinking that the thing we are worrying most about at the moment is what color I'm wearing." Downey agreed grudgingly and the two Assassins slipped out of the window.

[*This is the Assassin's Guild, remember.]

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Commander Vimes was very, very angry. All of his watchmen were standing around, taking orders from Lord Rust, of all people, when they ought to have been patrolling the city streets. Corporal Nobbs came forward, looking very, very nervous. "What is going on here, Corporal?"

"Lord Rust, sir. He just stormed into Psuedopolis Yard, like, and said that if we didn't show up on Scoone Avenue in half an hour, like, we would suffer consequences." The little man licked his lips and cowered under the Commander's stony glance. "That's all right, isn't it? I we were doing it under penalty of wrath?" Vimes chewed his cigar stub dangerously, and glared at Lord Rust, who was standing in the middle of the crowd of watchmen, trying to make himself heard.

"I think I'll just go and have a word with Lord Rust," Vimes growled, and advanced. "Afternoon, Lord Rust," he said, taking a drag on the cigar. "May I ask you why my force seems to be gathered on the street in front of my house?"

"The Patrician, your wife and Lord Downey have taken my son hostage in that house!" Rust huffed, whirling to point at the dark, hunched frame of the Vetinari mansion. "I demand him returned!"

"And how would that involve my watchmen?" Vimes was dangerously calm. The watchman closest to Rust and the Commander were backing away.

"Hostage situations are your job, aren't they?" Vimes ground his cigar stub between his teeth. At the point where he was nearly ready to slaughter Lord Rust, two Assassins appeared on either side of him. Vimes felt the light pressure of a hand on his shoulder, a pressure that was quite clearly making it known that pressure could be increased quite easily, and perhaps a metallic pressure in the neck area could be arranged.

"I do not think it is the watch's job in this sort of hostage situation," said the Patrician's smooth voice, from under the green hood behind Lord Rust. "Perhaps it would be best to take this inside."

"Tell them to clear off," Downey's voice hissed into Vimes' ear. "They can go back to patrolling."

"Clear off!" Vimes shouted at the assembled watchmen. "This didn't happen! If I find out any of you tell anyone - and I will - there will be consequences! Big ones!" The watchmen, while pretty sure that the show wasn't quite over, decided to air on the side of caution and left Scoone Avenue, wandering off to patrol or do whatever it was they had been doing before. "I think you'd better go back to Psuedopolis Yard, Carrot," Vimes said to the Captain. "Tell DeWorde to get lost if he comes by."

"Yessir," Carrot said, saluting, though obviously puzzled as to how William DeWorde could get lost in Ankh-Morpork. Psuedopolis Yard was right on the Isle of the Gods. It was awfully hard to get lost there. But Carrot respected his Commander and marched off purposefully toward Psuedopolis Yard.

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A/n: One or two more chapters ought to do it. What will happen next? Will Rust actually kill somebody? Do I know? Tune in next time, for the exciting next (final?) chapter of Infinite Secrets of the Sacred Homiehood!