Vimes was watching her face. "From this desk here," he said, "the only thing your country has to be proud of right now is you women."
Polly stayed silent. She was still trying to cope with the anger. It made it worse to know that he was right. We have our pride. And that's what we're proud of. We're proud of being proud...
"Very well, then, will you buy some food?" said Vimes, watching her carefully. "On credit? I suppose you still have someone in your country who knows about the kind of international affairs that don't involve edged weapons?"
"People would accept that, yes," said Polly hoarsely.
"Good. I'll send a clacks back tonight."
"And why would you be so generous, Mr Ankh-Morpork?"
"Because I'm from a wonderfully warm-hearted city, corporal... hah, no, I can't say that and keep a straight face," said Vimes. "Do you want to know the truth? Most people in Ankh-Morpork hadn't even heard of your country until the clacks went down. There's dozens of little countries round here selling one another hand-painted clogs or beer made from turnips. Then they knew you as the bloody mad idiots who fight everyone. Now they know you as... well, people who'd do just what they'd do. And tomorrow they'll laugh. And there're other people, people who sit and think about the future every day, who believe it's worth a little to be friends with a country like that."
"Why?" said Maladicta suspiciously.
"Because Ankh-Morpork is a friend to all freedom-loving people everywhere!" said Vimes. "Gods, it must be the way I tell 'em. Ze chzy Brogocia proztfik!" He saw their blank expressions. "Sorry, I've been away from home too long. And frankly, I'd rather be back there."
"But why did you say you were a cherry pancake?" said Polly.
"Didn't I say I am a citizen of Borogravia?"
"No. Brogocia is the cherry pancake, Borogvia is the country."
"Well, I made the effort, at least. Look, we'd rather Prince Heinrich wasn't ruler of two countries. That'd make one quite big country, much bigger than the other ones round here. So it'd probably get bigger still. He wants to be like Ankh-Morpork, you see. But what he means is he wants power, and influence. He doesn't want to earn them, he doesn't want to grow into them or learn the hard way how to use them. He just wants them."
"That's playing politics!" said Maladicta.
"No. It's just telling the truth. Make peace with him, by all means. Just leave the road and the towers alone. You'll get the food anyway, at whatever price. Mr de Worde's article will see to that."
"You sent the coffee," said Polly.
"Oh, yes. That was Corporal Buggy Swires, my eye in the sky. He's a gnome."
"And you set a werewolf on us?"
"Well, set is a bit strong. Angua followed you, just to be on the safe side. She's a werewolf, yes."
"The girl we met? She didn't look like one!"
"Well, they don't, usually," said Vimes. "Right up until the moment when they do, if you see what I mean. And she was following you because I was looking for anything that'd stop thousands of people dying. And that's not politics either," said Vimes. He stood up. "And now, ladies, I have to go and present your document to the Alliance leaders."
"You came out for a smoke at the right time, didn't you?" said Polly, slowly and carefully. "You knew we were on our way, and you made sure you'd get to us first."
"Of course. Can't leave this to a bunch of... oh, yes... ruperts."
"Where is my brother, Mister Vimes?" said Polly stiffly.
"You seem very sure I know..." said Vimes, not looking her in the face.
"I'm certain you do," said Polly.
"Why?"
"Because no one else does!"
Vimes stubbed out his cigar. "Angua was right about you," he said. "Yes, I, er, arranged for him to be put in what I like to call 'protective custody'. He's fine. Angua will take you to him now, if you like. Your brother, possibility of revenge, blackmail, who knows what... I thought he might be safer if I knew exactly who held the keys."
The end of the journey, Polly thought. But it wasn't, not any more. She got the distinct impression that the man opposite was reading her thoughts.