The wolves had gone a long way down the river, Sybil had said, on both banks. There wasn"t a sniff of him. Further down was a mass of rapids and another fall. What couldn"t kill him would certainly make him wish it could.
If he"d gone downstream. But upstream there was nothing but wild water, too, right up to the town.
No, he couldn"t... surely no one could swim up a waterfall...
A chilly little feeling began at the back of Vimes"s neck. But any sensible person would get right out of the country, wouldn"t they? The wolves were looking for him, Tantony wouldn"t remember him fondly and if Vimes judged the King correctly then the dwarfs would have some dark little revenge in store, too.
The trouble was that, if you formed a picture in your mind of a sensible person, and tried to superimpose it on a picture of Wolfgang, you couldn"t get them to meet anywhere.
There was an old saying, wasn"t there: as a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly. Well, that got Wolfgang coming and going.
Vimes stood up and turned around carefully. There was no one there. Sounds came in from the street gateway - people laughing, the sound of a harness, the clank of a shovel clearing up last night"s snow.
He sidled into the embassy, his back to the wall, and groped his way towards the stairs, peering into every doorway. He ran across the expanse of the hallway, did a tumbling roll, and ended up against the far wall.
"Is there anything wrong, sir?" said Cheery. She was watching him from the top of the stairs.
"Er, have you seen anything odd?" said Vimes, dusting himself off self-consciously. "And I realize that we"re talking about a house with Igor in it."
"Could you give me a hint, sir?"
"Wolfgang, godsdammit!"
"But he"s dead, sir. Isn"t he?"
"Not dead enough!"
"Er, what do you want me to do?"
"Where"s Detritus?"
"Polishing his helmet, sir!" said Cheery, on the point of panic.
"What the hell is he wasting time with that for?"
"Er, er, because we"re supposed to leave for the coronation in ten minutes, sir?"
"Oh, yes..."
"Lady Sybil told me to come and find you. In a very distinct tone of voice, sir."
At that point Lady Sybil"s voice boomed along the corridor. "Sam Vimes! You come here!"
"That one, sir," Cheery added helpfully.
Vimes trailed into the bedroom. Sybil was wearing another blue dress, a tiara and a firm expression.
"Is it a posh do?" said Vimes. "I thought if I put on a clean shirt - "
"Your official dress uniform is in the dressing room," said Sybil.
"It was rather a long day yesterday - "
"This is a coronation, Samuel Vimes. It is not a come-as-you-are! Go and get dressed, quickly. Including, and I don"t want to have to say this twice, the helmet with the feathers."
"But not the red tights," said Vimes, hoping against hope. "Please?"
"The red tights, Sam, go without saying."