'Ah, h'druk g'har dWatch, Sh'rt'azs!' said Carrot. 'H'h Angua tConstable... Angua g'har, b'hk bargr'a Sh'rt'azs Kad'k... '[10]

Angua appeared to concentrate. 'Grr'dukk d'buz-h'drak...' she managed.

Carrot laughed. 'You just said small delightful mining tool of a feminine nature !'

Cheery stared at Angua, who returned the stare blankly while mumbling, 'Well, dwarfish is difficult if you haven't eaten gravel all your life...'

Cheery was still staring. 'Er ... thank you,' he managed. 'Er ... I'd better go and tidy up.'

'What about Lord Vetinari?' said Carrot.

'I'm putting my best man on that,' said Vimes. 'Trustworthy, reliable, knows the ins and outs of this place like the back of his hand. I'm handling it, in other words.'

Carrot's hopeful expression faded to hurt puzzlement. 'Don't you want me to?' he said. 'I could—'

'No. Indulge an old man. I want you to go back to the Watch House and take care of things.'

'What things?'

'Everything! Rise to the occasion. Move paper around. There's that new shift rota to draw up. Shout at people! Read reports!'

Carrot saluted. 'Yes, Commander Vimes.'

'Good. Off you go, then.'

And if anything happens to Vetinari, Vimes added to himself as the dejected Carrot went out, no one will be able to say you were anywhere near him.

The little grille in the gate of the Royal College of Arms snapped open, to the distant accompaniment of brayings and grunts. 'Yes?' said a voice, 'what dost thee want?'

'I'm Corporal Nobbs,' said Nobby.

An eye applied itself to the grille. It took in the full, dreadful extent of the godly handiwork that was Corporal Nobbs.

'Are you the baboon? We've had one on order for...'

'No. I've come about some coat with arms,' said Nobby.

'You?' said the voice. The owner of the voice made it very clear that he was aware there were degrees of nobility from something above kingship stretching all the way down to commoner, and that as far as Corporal Nobbs was concerned an entirely new category - commonest, perhaps - would have to be coined.

'I've been told,' said Nobby, miserably. 'It's about this ring I got.'

'Go round the back door,' said the voice.

Cheery was tidying away the makeshift equipment he'd set up in the privy when a sound made him look around. Angua was leaning against the doorway.

'What do you want?' he demanded.

'Nothing. I just thought I'd say: don't worry, I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to.'

'I don't know what you're talking about!'

'I think you're lying.'

Cheery dropped a test tube, and sagged on to a seat. 'How could you tell?' he said. 'Even other dwarfs can't tell! I've been so careful!'

'Shall we just say ... I have special talents?' said Angua.

Cheery started to clean a beaker distractedly.

'I don't know why you're so upset,' said Angua. 'I thought dwarfs hardly recognized the difference between male and female, anyway. Half the dwarfs we bring in here on a No. 23 are female, I know that, and they're the ones that are hardest to subdue...'

'What's a No. 23?'

. ' Running Screaming at People While Drunk and Trying to Cut Their Knees off',' said Angua. 'It's easier to give them numbers than write it down every time. Look, there's plenty of women in this town that'd love to do things the dwarf way. I mean, what're the choices they've got? Barmaid, seamstress or someone's wife. While you can do anything the men do...'

'Provided we do only what the men do,' said Cheery.

Angua paused. 'Oh,' she said. 'I see. Hah. Yes. I know that tune.'

'I can't hold an axe!' said Cheery. ‘I'm scared of fights! I think songs about gold are stupid! I hate beer! I can't even drink dwarfishly! When I try to quaff I drown the dwarf behind me!'

'I can see that could be tricky,' said Angua.

'I saw a girl walk down the street here and some men whistled after her! And you can wear dressesl With colours!'

'Oh, dear.' Angua tried not to smile. 'How long have lady dwarfs felt like this? I thought they were happy with the way things are...'

'Oh, it's easy to be happy when you don't know any different,' said Cheery bitterly. 'Chainmail trousers are fine if you've never heard of lingerry!'

'Li— oh, yes,' said Angua. 'Lingerie. Yes.' She tried to feel sympathetic and found that she was, really, but she did have to stop herself from saying that at least you don't have to find styles that can easily be undone by paws.

'I thought I could come here and get a different kind of job,' Cheery moaned. 'I'm good at needlework and I went to see the Guild of Seamstresses and—' She stopped, and blushed behind her beard.

'Yes,' said Angua. 'Lots of people make that mistake.' She stood up straight and brushed herself off. 'You've impressed Commander Vimes, anyway. I think you'll like it here. Everyone's got troubles in the Watch. Normal people don't become policemen. You'll get on fine.'

'Commander Vimes is a bit...' Cheery began.

'He's okay when he's in a good mood. He needs to drink but he doesn't dare to these days. You know: one drink is too many, two is not enough... And that makes him edgy. When he's in a bad mood he'll tread on your toes and then shout at you for not standing up straight.'

* You're normal,' said Cheery, shyly. 'I like you.'

Angua patted her on the head. 'You say that now,* she said, 'but when you've been around here for a while you'll find out that sometimes I can be a bitch... What's that?'

'What?'

'That... painting. With the eyes....'

'Or two points of red light,' said Cheery.

'Oh, yeah?'

'It's the last thing Father Tubelcek saw, I think,' said the dwarf.

Angua stared at the black rectangle. She sniffed. 'There it is again!' /

Cheery took a step backwards. 'What? What?'

'Where's that smell coming from?' Angua demanded.

'Not me!' said Cheery hurriedly.

Angua grabbed a small dish from the bench and sniffed at it. This is it! I smelled this at the museum! What is it?'

'It's just clay. It was on the floor in the room where the old priest was killed,' said Cheery. 'Probably it came off someone's boot.'

Angua crumbled some of it between her fingers.

'I think it's just potters' clay,' said Cheery. We used to use it at the guild. For making pots,' she added, just in case Angua hadn't grasped things. 'You know? Crucibles and things. This looks like someone tried baking it but didn't get the heat right. See how it crumbles?'

'Pottery,' said Angua. 'I know a potter . , .'

She glanced down at the dwarfs iconograph again.

Please, no, she thought. Not one of them?

The front gate of the College of Arms - both front gates - were swung open. The two Heralds bobbed excitedly around Corporal Nobbs as he tottered out.

'Has your lordship got everything he requires?'

'Nfff,' said Nobby.

'If we can be of any help whatsoever—'

'Nnnf.'

'Any help at all—?'

'Nnnf.'

'Sorry about your boots, m'lord, but the wyvern's been ill. It'll brush off no trouble when it dries.' Nobby tottered off along the lane. 'He even walks nobly, wouldn't you say?' 'More... nobbly than nobly, I think.' 'It's disgusting that he's a mere corporal, a man of his breeding.'

Igneous the troll backed away until he was up against his potter's wheel.

'I never done it,' he said.

'Done what?' said Angua.

Igneous hesitated.

Igneous was huge and... well, rocky. He moved around the streets of Ankh-Morpork like a small iceberg and, like an iceberg, there was more to him than immediately met the eye. He was known as a supplier of things. More or less any kind of things. And he was also a wall, which was the same as a fence only a lot harder and tougher to beat. Igneous never asked unnecessary questions, because he couldn't think of any.