Both men relaxed a little.
"You left me alone surrounded by enemies," said Inigo, but without much accusation in his tone.
"Why should I care what happens to a bunch of bandits?" said Vimes. "You"re an assassin."
"How did you find out? Mmph?"
"A copper watches the way people walk. The Klatchians say a man"s leg is his second face, did you know that? And that little clerky, I"m-so-harmless walk of yours is too good to be true."
"You mean that just from my walk you--"
"No. You didn"t catch the orange," said Vimes.
"Come now - "
"No, people either catch or flinch. You saw it wasn"t a danger. And when I took your arm I felt metal under your clothes. Then I just sent a clacks back with your description."
He let go of Inigo and walked over to the coach, leaving his back exposed. He took something down from the box and came back and waved it at the man.
"I know this is yours," he said. "I pinched it out of your luggage. If I ever catch anyone with one of these in Ankh-Morpork I will make their life a complete misery as only a copper knows how. Is that understood?"
"If you ever catch anyone with one of these in Ankh-Morpork, your grace, mhm, they will still be lucky that the Assassins" Guild didn"t find them first, mmph. They are on our forbidden list within the city. But we"re a long way from Ankh-Morpork now. Mmph, mmph."
Vimes turned the thing over and over in his hands. It looked vaguely like a long-handled hammer, or perhaps a strangely made telescope. What it was, basically, was a spring. That"s all a crossbow was, after all.
"It"s a devil to load," he said. "I nearly ruptured myself cocking it against a rock. You"d only get one shot."
"But it"s the shot no one expects, mhm, mhm."
Vimes nodded. You could even conceal this thing down your pants, although the thought of all that coiled power so close would require nerves of steel and other parts of steel, too, if it came to it.
"This is not a weapon. This is for killing people," he said.
"Uh, most weapons are," said Inigo.
"No, they"re not. They"re so you don"t have to kill people. They"re for... for having. For being seen. For warning. This isn"t one of those. It"s for hiding away until you bring it out and kill people in the dark. And where"s that other thing?"
"Your grace?"
"The palm dagger. Don"t try to lie to me."
Inigo shrugged. The movement shot something silver out of his sleeve; it was a carefully shaped blade, padded on one side, which slid along the edge of his hand. There was a click from somewhere inside his jacket.
"Good gods," breathed Vimes. "Do you know how often people have tried to assassinate me, man?"
"Yes, your grace. Nine times. The Guild has set your fee at .$600,000. The last time an approach was made no Guild member volunteered. Mhm, mhm."
"Hah!"
"Incidentally, and very informally of course, we would appreciate knowing the whereabouts of the body of the Honourable Eustace BassinglyGore, mhm, mhm."
Vimes scratched his nose. "Was he the one who tried to poison my shaving cream?"
"Yes, your grace."
"Well, unless his body is an extremely strong swimmer, it"s still on a ship bound for Ghat via Cape Terror," said Vimes. "I paid the captain a thousand dollars not to take the chains off before Zambingo, too. That"ll give it a nice long walk home through the jungles of Klatch where I"m sure its knowledge of rare poisons will come in very handy, although not as handy perhaps as a knowledge of antidotes."
"A thousand dollars!"