Chapter 5 - Initiation Rites

Vimes looked at the three Watchmen drawing up in front of him. Two of them appeared to be limping. In addition, Sergeant Angua had a fat lip, the beginnings of a black eye and a brooding expression on her face. Corporal Littlebottom stood beside her, an egg shaped contusion on her forehead, and a ragged chunk cut out of her beard. Private Bott, hmmm. Private Bott was immaculate, and apparently as fresh as a daisy. It made him tired just to look at her, frankly.

He put down the incident report he had been reading, lit the butt of his cigar, and leant back in his chair. "So," he said, "I've got the official version. I've also got a complaint from Mrs Esmeralda Wiggins of 24 Sheephuggers Lane alleging that five of my Watchmen were involved in an orgy, and responsible for assorted property damage, to whit, one broken window, thirty smashed roof slates, a ripped gutter, a stoved-in water butt, a smashed table lamp, a small oil-based fire, and acid burns on the front hall parquet. Anyone want to explain that, in detail?"

Cheery shifted, a little uncomfortably. She looked at Angua, who did not respond. "Well, sir, I suppose it all started yesterday afternoon after Private Bott here was sworn in. Nobb... that is, the lads thought it might be a good idea to take her along to the Mended Drum, have a few drinks to celebrate. It's traditional for new recruits, he says. Sergeant Angua and I thought it might be a good idea to go along, just to keep an eye on things, you know. And so we did."

"It was very interesting," said Buffybot brightly. "I've never met anyone who drinks sulphuric acid before. Or beer with lumps in. And I learned several songs. There was one about a hedgehog."

Cheery coughed and continued. "Anyway, along we went. I had a few lemonades with potato spirit, and Angua had a white wine spritzer. And, er, Private Bott had a great deal of everything, really. They kept buying her rounds, though they didn't seem to have much effect - and of course the lads matched her drink for drink. And then time wore on and things got a bit raucous..."

"Corporal Littlebottom threw another dwarf through the window," said Buffybot eagerly. "It was very funny."

Cheery blushed. "There was a remark made, Sir."

"And then this other dwarf threw Corporal Nobbs through the window, even though he had a certificate saying he wasn't a dwarf, and he was waving it."

"At which point I decided it was time for the Watch to leave," said Sergeant Angua, remotely. "Before anyone had to be arrested, or scraped off the walls."

"Very sensible," said Vimes, nodding. "And yet, things do not seem to have ended there." He stared right at Angua. "Let's discuss what happened next, shall we sergeant?"

Angua pursed her lips. "We left the Mended Drum, and Cheery very kindly offered to put the rest of us up at her lodgings - the boarding house run by Mrs Wiggins, Sir - since it was rather late by then. Dorfl took Nobby and Fred home in a cart instead, but Detritus came along with us. We got him as far as the lodging house, but he passed out in the front hall ..."

"...and we couldn't move him, but Sergeant Angua said we should take his helmet off, and tuck it by his feet, in case he accidentally threw up in it and melted the metal." continued Buffybot happily, "so we did."

Angua threw her a look. "And so the three of us went to bed." She drew a breath, "And then, at about two o'clock this morning, I was awoken by a roaring noise, and Private Bott's voice, and I found that there was a vampire was in our bedroom."

Earlier...

Spike blinked and staggered. They've buggered it up, oh of course they've buggered it up, the useless bunch of tossers, he thought savagely. He looked around at the sloping whitewashed wall and the large double bed in front of him, full of young women. So where was he?

"Hello Spike!" said Buffybot. She sprang up in bed and zinged Spike a friendly grin, making him jump back a little. "What are you doing in Cheery's bedroom?" Her two companions in the bed sat up and stared at Spike as well.

He tried a friendly grin in return. "Hello ladies." And then, "Blimey," he added involuntarily. "What's that's on your face? A dead poodle?" For now he could see the faces of all the women. And the one on the right had a ...growth.

Cheery put a defensive hand up to her apricot coloured beard, which was neatly tied up in curlers. "It's the latest look - hey! What's it to you? And what are you doing here?" She reached down into the bedcovers and brought out her handy throwing axe.

"Ah..." said Spike. He balanced on his toes, his eye sliding to the third occupant of the bed, who had slid in a very sinuous manner out from under the bedclothes and disappeared into a dark corner. He heard a nasty wet squelching noise and what sounded like a growl.

"You're under arrest," said Cheery, still smarting from the remark about her beard.

Spike didn't need to hear any more. He bounded to the window, and smashed through it head first. The shadows moved, and he felt a hot burning sensation in his ankle, and a sudden drag. He kicked out with full vampire strength as he went through the window. There was a muffled growl, and something bounced on the tiles of the roof beside him, slid down and disappeared over the edge. He began to slide down after it, grabbed at the drainpipe rapidly approaching beneath him, and swung athletically around, to bounce back up on to the roof. Well, that was the theory. Instead, the drainpipe crumbled away in his hand, and he fell head first towards the pavement. That was the shoddiest piece of construction I've met in a century, he thought bitterly, just as he crashed to the ground, hit his head on a large water butt, and collapsed unconscious.

Buffybot gazed anxiously out of the window. "I do hope Spike is all right," she said. "And Sergeant Angua. She's very athletic, isn't she?"

"Come on." Cheery dragged on a rather flouncy dressing gown that was hanging from a hook on the bedroom door, and hurried out, axe in hand. Buffybot followed.

"Of course, falling out of a window doesn't normally do Spike any harm." she said, as they thudded down the stairs.

"It doesn't?" There was an odd note in Cheery's voice. She turned to look at Buffybot, who smiled.

"No, vampires are very tough." She noticed Cheery's look of alarm. "He's a good vampire, don't worry. He hasn't murdered anyone in ages! Well, quite a long time. Well, not this year, anyway."

Cheery clutched her beard in alarm. A vampire! In her bedroom! There were days she wished she was still living down a goldmine, even one without lipstick. She ran down the last few steps, her mind awhirl - and tripped over Detritus lying in the hall. She flew forward, knocking over a lamp, and banging her head on his patent head-cooling helmet, and her knee on her very own throwing axe. After a dazed moment, she opened her eyes to find herself lying beard first in a pool of troll vomit. Her beard began to hiss.

"Oops!" said Buffybot brightly from above her. "Did you forget Sergeant Detritus was there?"

Cheery did not reply for a moment. Because she was opposed to swearing, and to cutting other people's legs off with her axe - unless it was strictly necessary - but there were times when she was sorely tempted.

Buffybot came down the last few steps, and lifted Cheery effortlessly to her feet and looked at her critically. "Your beard's gone a bit frizzy." Then she opened the front door, and peered out. Sergeant Angua brushed past her and came into the hall, her nightgown in her hand. "Right, Private Bott, she said, standing naked in the hall and glaring at the shiny little pinhead in front of her, "you have some explaining to do."

"And that's when Mrs Wiggins appeared," concluded Angua. "And cast the worst possible interpretation upon the presence of two naked women, a pie-eyed dwarf, and an unconscious troll in her front hall." Cheery blushed again, and Buffybot looked grave. She liked to give people the benefit of the doubt, but even she had to admit that Mrs Wiggins had been very unfriendly, and frankly, plain rude.

"And once you had left the premises, with Mrs Wiggins's remarks echoing in your ears, did Private Bott explain the presence of a vampire in your bedroom to your satisfaction, sergeant?" Vimes looked at the report in front of him.

Angua sniffed. "Not entirely, sir, no."

Vimes tapped the paper, thoughtfully. "Apparently, Private Bott, you - and this Spike fellow - are not from Ankh Morpork, but instead from a coastal resort somewhere far west of here, called Sunnydale. Which is a place I have never heard of."

"Yes!" said Buffybot. "It's a pity you haven't been there. It's very nice. You'd like it - despite all the demons, and vampires, and the Hellmouth. Of course it's a very long way away, probably."

"It sounds like a busy little place," said Vimes drily.

"Oh, it is!" Buffybot nodded her head vigorously. "Only this week we found a dragon on the television mast."

Vimes became very still. "A dragon?"

Buffybot nodded again. "Yes, a lady dragon, about 100 feet long. I've got her orb, and I need to give it back, which is why I'm here looking for her. And Spike came looking for me. He's very sweet to be worried!"

"And why," said Vimes, after a long, dangerous pause, "do you think this dragon might be in Ankh Morpork?"

Buffybot looked surprised. "Well, I saw her arrive here." She pointed out of the window to the spire of the Unseen University. "She flew over that funny big tower over there. I expect she's gone off to eat some sheep. Or virgins. My friend Anya says dragons eat virgins."

Everyone looked across at the tower, as it loomed against the grey storm tossed sky.

Another dragon, though Vimes glumly, I might have known we wouldn't get away with only one.