The Battle Bread was much larger than an ordinary loaf. Vimes turned it over gingerly. 'Dwarfs throw it like a discus, right?'
'Yes, sir. At the Seven Mountains games last year Snori Shieldbiter took the tops off a line of six hard-boiled eggs at fifty yards, sir. And that was with just a standard hunting loaf. But this is, well, it's a cultural artefact. We haven't got the baking technology for bread like this any more. It's unique.'
'Valuable?'
'Very, sir.'
'Worth stealing?'
'You'd never be able to get rid of it! Every honest dwarf would recognize it!'
'Hmm. Did you hear about that priest being murdered on Misbegot Bridge?'
Carrot looked shocked. 'Not old Father Tubelcek? Really?'
Vimes stopped himself from asking: 'You know him, then?' Because Carrot knew everyone. If Carrot were to be dropped into some dense tropical jungle it'd be 'Hello, Mr Runs Swiftly Through The Trees! Good morning, Mr Talks To The Forest, what a splendid blowpipe! And what a novel place for a feather!'
'Did he have more than one enemy?' said Vimes.
'Sorry, sir? Why more than one?'
'I should say the fact that he had one is obvious, wouldn't you?'
'He is ... he was a nice old chap,' said Carrot. 'Hardly stirred out. Spends... spent all his time with his books. Very religious. I mean, all kinds of religion. Studied them. Bit odd, but no harm in him. Why should anyone want to kill him? Or Mr Hopkinson? A pair of harmless old men?'
Vimes handed him the Battle Bread. 'We shall find out. Constable Angua, I want you to have a look at this one. Take... yes, take Corporal Littlebottom,' he said. 'He's been doing some work on it. Angua's from Uberwald too, Littlebottom. Maybe you've got friends in common, that sort of thing.'
Carrot nodded cheerfully. Angua's expression went wooden.
'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?'