"I"m sure I did, sir," said Constable Shoe. "I wouldn"t forget a thing like that, sir. In fact, I distinctly remember saying to Constable Visit, "Washpot, I"m just going to take this - " "
"Look, you can see I"m a busy man!" snapped Colon. "Get one of the sergeants to sort it out!"
"There"s no sergeants left except Sergeant Flint, sir, and he spends all his time going round asking people what he should be doing," said Constable Shoe. "Anyway, sir, it"s the senior officer who must sign the chitty - "
Colon stood up, leaning on his knuckles, and shouted, "Oh, I "must", must I? That"s a nerve and no mistake! "Must", eh? Most of you lot are lucky anyone even gives you a job! Bunch of zombies and loonies and lawn ornaments and rocks! I"ve had it up to here with you!"
Shoe leaned back out of range of the spittle. "Then I"m afraid I must take this up with the Guild of Watchmen, sir," he said.
"Guild of Watchmen? Hah! And since when has there been a Guild of Watchmen?"
"Dunno. What"s the time now?" said Corporal Nobbs, ambling into the room. "Got to be a couple of hours, at least. Morning, captain."
"What are you doing here, Nobby?"
"That"s Mister Nobbs to you, captain. And I"m President of the Guild of Watchmen, since you ask."
"There"s no such bloody thing!"
"All legit, captain. Registered at the Palace and everything. Amazin" how people rushed to join, too." He pulled out his grubby notebook. "Got a few matters to take up with you, if you have a moment. Well, I say a few - "
"I"m not putting up with this!" bellowed Colon, his face crimson. "This is high treason! You"re all sacked! You"re all - "
"We"re all on strike," said Nobby calmly.
"You can"t go on strike while I"m sacking you!"
"Our strike headquarters are in the back room of the Bucket in Gleam Street," said Nobby.
"Here, that"s my boozer! I forbid you to go on strike in my own pub!"
"We"ll be there when you wish to talk terms. Come, brothers. We are now officially in a dispute situation."
They marched out.
"Don"t bother to come back!" Colon shouted after them.
Bonk wasn"t what Vimes had expected. In fact he"d find it hard to say what he had expected, except that this wasn"t it.
It occupied a narrow valley with a white-water river winding through it. There were city walls. They were not like those of Ankh-Morpork, which had become at first a barrier to expansion and then a source of masonry for it. These had an inside and an outside. There were castles on the hills. There were castles on most hills in these parts. And there were high gates across the road.
Detritus thumped on the side of the coach. Vimes stuck his head out.
"Dere"s guys in der road," said the troll. "Dey got halibuts."
Vimes looked out of the windows. There were half a dozen guards, and they did indeed have halberds.
"What are they after?" he said.
"I expect they"ll also want to see our papers and make a search of the coaches," said Inigo.
"Papers are one thing," said Vimes, getting out of the coach, "but no one is rummaging in our stuff. I know that trick. They"re not looking for anything, they just want to show us who"s boss. You come along and do the translating." He added, "Don"t worry, I"ll be diplomatic."
The two men barring the way did have helmets and they were holding weapons, but their uniforms did not conform to normal uniformity. No guards, Vimes thought, should be dressed in red, blue and yellow. People would be able to see them coming. Vimes liked a uniform you could lurk in.
He pulled out his badge and held it up, advancing with an ingratiating smile.
"Just repeat this, Mister Skimmer." Vimes raised his voice. "Hello, fellow officer, as you can see I am Commander V - "