"It certainly doesn"t use much soap," said Vimes.
"There are so many uses for fats and tallows, sir. We couldn"t possibly supply ourselves."
"Ah,"said Vimes.
The Patrician sighed. "Obviously I hope that we may strengthen our trading links with the various nations within Uberwald," he said. "The situation there is volatile in the extreme. Do you know much about Uberwald, Commander Vimes?"
Vimes, whose knowledge of geography was microscopically detailed within five miles of Ankh-Morpork and merely microscopic beyond that, nodded uncertainly.
"Only that it"s not really a country," said Vetinari. "It"s - "
"It"s rather more what you get before you get countries," said Carrot. "It"s mainly fortified towns and fiefdoms with no real boundaries and lots of forest in between. There"s always some sort of feud going on. There"s no law apart from whatever the local lords enforce, and banditry of all kinds is rife."
"So unlike the home life of our own dear city," said Vimes, not quite under his breath. The Patrician gave him an impassive glance.
"In Uberwald the dwarfs and trolls haven"t settled their old grievances," Carrot continued, "there are large areas controlled by feudal vampire or werewolf clans, and there are also tracts with much higher than normal background magic. It is a chaotic place, indeed, and you"d hardly think you were in the Century of the Fruitbat. It is to be hoped that things will improve, however, and Uberwald will, happily, be joining the community of nations."
Vimes and Vetinari exchanged looks. Sometimes Carrot sounded like a civics essay written by a stunned choirboy.
"Well put," said the Patrician at last. "But until that joysome day Uberwald remains a mystery inside a riddle wrapped in an enigma."
"Let me see if I"ve got this right," said Vimes. "Uberwald is like this big suet pudding that everyone"s suddenly noticed, and now with this coronation as an excuse we"ve all got to rush there with knife, fork and spoon to shovel as much on our plates as possible?"
"Your grasp of political reality is masterly, Vimes. You lack only the appropriate vocabulary. Ankh-Morpork must send a representative, obviously. An ambassador, as it were."
"You"re not suggesting I should go to this affair, are you?" said Vimes.
"Oh, I couldn"t send the Commander of the City Watch," said Lord Vetinari. "Most of the Uberwald countries have no concept of a modern civil peacekeeping authority."
Vimes relaxed.
"I"m sending the Duke of Ankh instead."
Vimes sat bolt upright.
"They are mostly feudal systems," Vetinari went on. "They set great store by rank - "
"I"m not being ordered to go to Uberwald!"
"Ordered, your grace?" Vetinari looked shocked and concerned. "Good heavens, I must have misunderstood Lady Sybil... She told me yesterday that a holiday a long way from Ankh-Morpork would do you the world of good..."
"You spoke to Sybil?"
"At the reception for the new President of the Tailors" Guild, yes. I believe you left early. You were called away. Some emergency, I understand. Lady Sybil happened to mention how you seemed to be, as she put it, constantly on the job, and one thing led to another. Oh dear, I do hope I haven"t caused some marital misunderstanding..."
"I can"t leave the city now of all times!" said Vimes desperately. "There"s so much to do!"
"That is exactly why Sybil says you ought to leave the city," said Vetinari.
"But there"s the new training school - "
"Ticking over nicely now, sir," said Carrot. say the world is flat and supported on the back of four elephants who themselves stand on the back of a giant turtle.
They say that the elephants, being such huge beasts, have bones of rock and iron, and nerves of gold for better conductivity over long distances.
They say that the fifth elephant came screaming and trumpeting through the atmosphere of the young world all those years ago and landed hard enough to split continents and raise mountains.
No one actually saw it land, which raised the interesting philosophical question: when millions of tons of angry elephant come spinning through the sky, and there is no one to hear it, does it - philosophically speaking - make a noise?