Chapter 2 - Ita Erat Quando Hic Adveni

His Grace the Duke of Ankh Commander Sir Samuel Vimes glared menacingly up at the vandalised statue. He somehow doubted that Suffer-Not-Injustice Vimes would stand for something like this.

"Sorry sir, hate to be annoying," Sergeant Angua piped up in a bright, brittle voice, "but I was just wondering, since so many things are genetically inherited patrilinearly, if you and Lady Sybil have ever had any difficul-"

"Somebody wash this off," Vimes grunted, turning on his heel and lighting a cigar in one lacklustre movement.

"Don't you think we should take some iconographs of it first, sir?" Carrot asked, his honest features twisted with concern.

Vimes shot a venomous glance at the vampiric Ankh-Morpork Times iconographer who was sneaking hopefully along the Palace wall, ruffling hurriedly around in his vest pockets for something. "Oh, just buy some off the reporter," he said, rolling his eyes and turning away to smoke.

Carrot took this as his cue. "Excuse me, Mr. Chriek!" he called brightly, walking toward the startled iconographer. "The Watch has a delightful proposition for you!"

Angua gritted her teeth and walked up to her commanding officer. "Er, sir... You know there's been a lot of graffiti in the city lately..."

"Yeah?" Vimes said. "So? There's always a lot of graffiti. This is Ankh-Morpork. You can't stand still for five minutes without getting an expletive painted on you."

"Yes, sir," she said. "But there's been more graffiti of a... specialized nature, I suppose I should say."

Vimes gave her a look. "What sort of specialized nature would this be, then?"

"Er... they seem to be leaning more toward the... er... feminine side of things," she said. "I think it's possible that there's a specific group behind it."

"Yeah, maybe," Vimes said. "But then, when has a little bit of graffiti hurt anyone?" Angua glanced pointedly over her shoulder at the ravaged likeness of the Commander's predecessor. "All right, I understand. You can look into it if you want to, but I seriously doubt there's anything sinister going on here." Vimes chewed thoughtfully on his cigar and stared off into the distance for a moment. "Carrot! What are you doing to that vampire?"

"What happened?" the short Watchmen asked.

"The Commander went spare," the Lance-Constable said drearily. Beside him, the Sergeant winced. The Commander going spare was a sight to see, and not one either of them would forget for quite some time.

"What, banged on the desk and everything?"

"Yeah. And lay across it and..." the Lance-Constable trailed off for a moment.

"And what, Goriff?"

"... And GROANED, Shihab."

Shihab recoiled. "The Commander groaned! Is this TRUE, Dhul-Fiqaar?" he added, spinning around to look at the Sergeant.

Dhul-Fiqaar nodded. "And swore. And lit a cigar. And sent a clacks to the palace."

"Smoked two whole cigars while we were in there," Goriff added miserably. "Sure sign of anxiety, that."

There was silence for a moment. An anxious commander was all fine and good, but the Commander (the capital C slotted automatically into place) was different.

Shihab cleared his throat. "Do you think the Prince-"

"Mayhereignforever," they all said in unison.

"-will blame the Commander for the missing monument?" he asked, voicing their shared thought. "You know how they are."

"Yeah," said Goriff grimly. "The sparks fly."

"It's only the oath that keeps the Commander here, really," the Sergeant observed, avoiding the question.

"What do you know, Dhul-Fiqaar?" Shihab grunted incredulously.

"More about the oath than you do, Constable Shihab," Dhul-Fiqaar said. "I'm slow, but I've been around a long time. The oath was made back before the Commander came, and even the Prince-"

"Mayhereignforever."

"-doesn't have the power to break it. Neither does the Commander, come to that. They'll both have to live out the length of the commission, unless the Commander betrays the state."

"Which won't happen," Shihab put in.

"The Commander IS from-" Goriff started.

"We don't talk about that," Shihab interrupted. "Anyway, so are you."

Goriff bristled, but was cut off mid-huff by a heavy hand on his shoulder. He stopped, gulped and looked around in a large set of very white teeth. The other two watchmen tried to look busy. "I'm sure you weren't just questioning the honor of our esteemed Commander, were you?" Captain Anwaar said, grinning, the words resonating through the room easily.

"Er," said Goriff. "No."

"Very good. Now, Sergeant Dhul-Fiqaar?" The big man scanned the room. "The Commander needs to speak with you."

Goriff grinned. "Good luck, sarge."

To Be Continued