Chapter 10 - Final Showdown
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Notes/Disclaimer: The Discworld and all its characters are the sole property of Terry Pratchett. If I could worship him as a God, I would, but I'm not quite sure how he'd take that. At any rate, no money is being made off of this.
Warning: Little bit of Greebo/Vimes, little bit of Greebo/Vetinari.
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As it happened, the "confrontation" did not go as Vimes had expected. To be fair, he thought as they wandered the scorching hot streets of the city in the middle of the afternoon, he wasn't really sure what he had been expecting.
As promised, Greebo had led them directly to the lair of the Beast. It was a dark alley in, surprise surprise, the Shades of all places. The roiling black mass had, well, roiled at them, oozing forth menacingly. As it approached, it began to take shape. It grew humanoid, tall, lanky, with sharp horn-like protrusions coming out of its shoulders and elbows. Glowing pale blue eyes glowered at them as it reached long, clawed fingers towards them.
Carrot, dressed in full Watch armor and wielding his own sword, had yelled, "Have at thee, fiend!" as he'd been instructed, and dashed towards the thing.
And then, to Vimes's complete surprise, the Beast had suddenly stopped, leapt up onto a nearby rooftop, and then jumped away. Though startled, Vimes rallied quickly as he always did, and they'd taken off after the creature. But it had been fast, too fast, especially moving over the rooftops. Greebo had outpaced them both, streaking after the fleeing Beast, but even he'd been foiled; they'd caught up with him about a dozen blocks down, standing sullenly and sniffing the air.
Since then they'd been walking the city, trying to find the damn thing. It was getting late, and, worst of all, would soon be getting dark. Vimes swore to himself as they found themselves at the head of a street they'd traveled down three times. He wasn't sure the city could handle another night of the Beast. He stopped short, causing Carrot to nearly bump into him from behind.
"We're going about this all wrong," he said.
"Sir?" asked Carrot. Greebo walked a few paces onward, then stopped and looked back at them curiously.
"It's a fairy tale run amok, right?" said Vimes, thoughtfully. An idea was congealing in his mind like bacon grease. "So we have to think in terms of a story. If you were going to have a dramatic confrontation, where would you go?"
Carrot frowned, pondering. "I suppose I'd pick some place that's dramatic, Sir."
Vimes snapped his fingers. "Exactly. Carrot, what's the highest point in Ankh-Morpork?"
Carrot's eyes widened. "The clocktower of the Unseen University! Of course, Sir! Bravo."
"Come on," said Vimes, already taking off at a jog. "Don't congratulate me until we're sure I'm right."
But in his gut he knew he would be. The creature would be there. It had to be. It was nearly sundown, and the creature would be waiting on the edge of the tower, majestically no doubt, ready to leap down and fight Carrot to the death.
"Hurry!" he yelled, speeding up.
Sometimes, Vimes really hated it when he was right.
The creature stood gripping one of the posts in the belfry, crouched against the side of the tower, its dark form silhouetted neatly by the sinking sun behind it. Rays of light shone from around it, leaving its center a dark, menacing mass.
"Showoff," Vimes muttered. "Alright Captain," he said, slapping Carrot bracingly on the shoulder. "I want that thing dead, and I want it dead quickly. Be a good lad and do your duty."
"Yes Sir!" Carrot saluted. Once again, he drew his sword and lifted it high in the air. The golden light glanced off it, making the blade shimmer.
Ah, thought Vimes, so this is what they meant. Well, for what it's worth, it's a proper showdown now.
Carrot cleared his throat. "Beast!" he yelled, and his voice was suddenly more commanding than usual, strangely deep and somehow… inspiring. "Come down! It's time to end this!"
Time to end this? thought Vimes skeptically. You've got to be kidding me. Who actually says-
But his thoughts were interrupted as the Beast sprang from the tower, hurtling towards them. The small group of warriors hastily backed up as a giant shadow creature landed before them with and enormous thud, the ground shaking in its wake. With a start, Vimes realized that the distance up the clocktower must have been greater than he thought; the creature was bigger than it had been, over three times the size of a regular person (which made him just over twice as large as Carrot).
Carrot leaped forward, swinging his sword, and the creature brought up its claws to meet the blow. They clanged, a sharp, metallic sound, before the combatants sprang apart again, circling warily. The Beast snarled, and bits of darkness dripped from its open mouth, falling to the earth and hissing as it burned into the ground.
They sprang forward again, the two fighters, and Carrot struck high, throwing his weight into the blow, so that the creature was forced to bring up two claws to hold back the sword. As its arms were lifted, Carrot suddenly shifted his weight down and brought his boot up, giving the creature a sharp, swift kick between the legs.
Against all good sense, the creature collapsed to its knees, clutching itself and howling. With a swift, sure blow, Carrot hefted his sword and cleaved the creature's head from its shoulders.
Vimes, looking on, blinked in amazement. Surely that couldn't be it. Surely it couldn't be so easy? That was impossible. Just… just… it shouldn't happen like that! There should be more to it!
And yet, the creature was dissolving away into mist, drifting apart on the wind as though it had never existed. Carrot stepped up from his finishing crouch, sheathed his sword, and turned to Vimes, beaming. "How was that, Sir?" he asked.
Vimes struggled to find his voice. "Captain… how… why…?"
"Well Sir," said Carrot, cheerful smile on his face, "you did say to take care of him quickly. And you always told us Sir, the best way to disarm someone is always a good swift kick in the-"
"Yes, yes. Alright," said Vimes. He sighed. Did creatures of pure Darkness even have balls? Or had it only worked because Carrot had known it would? He supposed it didn't really matter anyway, as long as the job got done. "Well then," he said, "I guess we might as well just go-"
He was interrupted by a sudden shaking of the earth. Vimes's eyes widened as he struggled to retain his footing. What now? Was there more? Was the creature coming back? Bloody hell. He had known it couldn't just be that simple. These things never were. Bloody, bloody hell.
But as the source of the shaking grew nearer, Vimes realized that it wasn't the dark Beast returning after all. Instead an enormous figure approached them, taller even than Carrot. He was definitely human, or at least, human-shaped; it was difficult to tell because he was clad head to foot in blindingly white armor with silver and gold trimmings.
Oh right, thought Vimes to himself. I knew we'd forgotten something.
The huge Knight came to a halt in front of them and slowly, ponderously drew his sword.
Shit. If the Darkness is all gone, who's he going to fight?
"Commander?" Carrot asked, taking a step backwards. He looked over his shoulder, obviously awaiting a command.
SHIT! thought Vimes again. I can't ask him to fight against that thing. The story would take over. He'd be the bad guy. The knight would slaughter him. Maybe… he glanced over towards their other traveling companion, but Greebo, it seemed, had long since vanished, and sensibly so. Okay, thought Vimes desperately, what now?
The Knight drew his sword, and Vimes knew it was too late. Once the combat started, then it would have to be completed, no matter what. And this one, he was quite certain, Carrot could not win. Vimes put a hand on his own sword. Well, it was probably suicide, but if he was going to go down, then Vimes would damn well go down with him. It was the least he could do after getting the boy into this mess. Vimes took a deep breath…
And let it out suddenly in a whoosh as a screeching cry of "Hey, Mr. Hero!" pierced his eardrums painfully. He turned to see Gytha Ogg and Ezmerelda Weatherwax, led by a trotting, smug-looking Greebo, approach the group. In Granny Weatherwax's grip were the reigns of an enormous snow-white stallion. Where they'd gotten it in Ankh-Morpork, Vimes had no idea. The group of fighters stopped to watch as the witches approached.
"Well now," said Nanny Ogg cheerfully, "will you look at this? What a fine situation! The Dark thing all defeated and the like, the good guys the winners, and would you look at this? We just happen to have found this beautiful white horse."
The Knight hesitated, his sword still suspended in mid-air.
"And would you look at the time?" chimed in Granny Weatherwax. "Looks like the sun's almost down. Well gee, if someone was going to ride off into the sunset, he'd have to do it right quick. Won't be sunset for much longer."
The Knight's arm lowered, and he looked back and forth hesitatingly between Carrot and the horse. Granny Weatherwax led the animal forward until it was interposed between the two fighters. "Yup. Won't get much of a better opportunity than this," she said pointedly. She lifted the reigns up, as though handing them off.
Radiating confusion, the Knight lifted his other hand and took the reigns from her. His sword now in the way of the horse, he sheathed it.
As one, the two witches looked towards the sunset. "Man, what a view," said Nanny Ogg. "Sure would look good with a hero riding off into it."
"Sure would," Granny Weatherwax agreed.
Somewhat jerkily, the Knight mounted the horse, throwing a leg over its back. Then, seeming to gain more and more confidence with each step, he kicked it into a walk and then a gallop, heading straight for the sun where it was already halfway dipped below the horizon.
"He's going to have to turn eventually when he hits the city wall," Vimes mentioned as they all stared at the shrinking figure.
"No he won't," said Granny Weatherwax. "By the time he gets that far, he won't exist anymore." She brushed her hands off and turned away from the sunset. "Alright then," she said. "That's that."
Vimes watched the sunset for a moment longer, then turned to the witches. "So does that mean you'll be leaving the city then?" he asked hopefully.
"Of course," said Granny Weatherwax.
Vimes heaved a sigh of relief.
"Tomorrow."