`I'll come with you,' said Bashfullsson quickly.

`I think I need no assistance,' lied Vimes, as coolly as he could.

`I'm sure you do not,' said the dwarf. `But Captain Gud is a little nervous.'

`He'll be a lot nervous if I don't like what I see,' said Vimes.

`Yes. That's why I'm coming with you,' said Bashfullsson.

Vimes set off across the cavern a little faster than he felt was comfortable. The grag kept up by skipping at every other step.

`Don't think you know me, Mr Bashfullsson,' Vimes growled. `Don't think I took pity on those bastards. Don't think I was merciful. You just don't kill the helpless. You just don't.'

`The dark guards seemed to have no trouble with the prospect,' said Bashfullsson.

`Exactly!' said Vimes. `By the way, Mr Bashfullsson, what kind of dwarf doesn't carry an axe?'

`Well, as a grag, my first resort, of course, is to my voice,' said the grag. `The axe is nothing without the hand, and the hand is nothing without the mind. I've trained myself to think about axes.'

`Sounds mystical to me,' said Vimes.

`I suppose it would,' said Bashfullsson. `Ah, here we are.'

Here was the area that the newly arrived dwarfs had occupied. Very military, Vimes thought. A defensive square. You're not sure who your enemies are. And neither am I.

The nearest dwarf regarded him with that slightly defiant, slightly uneasy look he'd come to recognize. Captain Gud straightened up.

Vimes looked over the dwarf's shoulder, which was not hard to do. There were Nobby and Fred Colon, and both of the trolls, and even Cheery, all sitting in a huddle.

`Are my men under arrest, captain?' he said.

`My orders are to detain everyone found here,' said the captain. Vimes admired the flatness of the response. It meant: I am not interested in a dialogue at this time.

`What is your authority here, captain?' he said.

`My authority comes threefold: the Low King, mining law and sixty armed dwarfs,' said Gud.

Bugger, thought Vimes. I forgot about mining law. This is a problem. I think I need to delegate. A good commander learns to delegate. Therefore I will delegate this problem to Captain Gud.

`That was a good answer, captain,' he said, `and I respect it.' In one movement he pushed past and headed for the watchmen. He stopped dead when he heard the sound of drawn metal behind him, raised his hands, and said, `Grag Bashfullsson, will you explain matters to the captain? I have stepped into his custody, not out of it. And this is not the time or place for rash action.'

He walked on without waiting for a reply. Admittedly, banking on the fact that someone would get into trouble if they killed you would probably come under the heading of rash action, but he'd just have to live with that. Or, of course, not.

He hunkered down by Nobby and Colon.

`Sorry about this, Mister Vimes,' said Fred. `We were waiting on the path with some horses and they just turned up. We showed 'em our badges but they just did not want to know.'

`Understood. And you, Cheery?'

`I thought it'd be best to stay together, sir,' said Cheery earnestly. `Right. And you, Detr-' Vimes looked down, and felt the bile rise. Brick and Detritus both had chains on their legs.

`You let them shackle you?' he said.

`Well, it seemed to be gettin' all poll-itical, Mister Vimes,' said Detritus. `But say der word and me an' Brick can have 'em off, no trouble. Dey're only field chains. My granny could've bust out of 'em.'

Vimes felt the anger rising, but put a lid on it. Right now, Detritus was being rather more sensible than his boss. `Don't do that, not until I say so, he said. `Where are the grags?'

`They're guarding them in another cave, sir,' said Cheery. `And the miners. Sir, they said the Low King is on his way!'

`Good job it's a big cave, otherwise it'd be getting crowded,' said Vimes. He walked back to the captain and bent down.

`You chained up my sergeant?' he said.

`He's a troll. This is Koom Valley,' said the captain flatly.

`Except even I could bust out of chains that thin,' said Vimes. He glanced up. Sally and Angua had regained their amour propre in their proper armour, and were watching Vimes carefully.

`Those two officers are a vampire and a werewolf,' he said, still in the same level voice. `I know you know this, and you very wisely didn't try to lay a finger on them. And Bashfullsson's a grag. But you put my sergeant in weak chains that he could snap with a finger so's you could kill him and say he was trying to escape. Don't even think about denying it. I know a dirty trick when I see one. Shall I tell you what I'm going to do? I'm going to give you a chance to show brotherly love and let the trolls out, right now. And the others. Otherwise, unless you kill me, I'll poison your future career to the very best of my ability. And don't you dare kill me.'

The captain eyeballed him, but it was a game Vimes had mastered a long time ago. Then the dwarf's gaze fell on Vimes's arm and he gave a groan and took a step back, raising his hand protectively.

`Yes! I'll do it! Yes!'

`See you do,' said Vimes, taken aback. Then he too looked down at the inside of his wrist.

`What the hell is this?' he said, turning to Bashfullsson.

`Ah, it left its mark on you, commander,' said the grag cheerfully. `An exit wound, perhaps?'

On the soft underskin of Vimes's wrist, the sign of the Summoning Dark blazed as a livid scar.

Vimes turned his arm this way and that. `It was real?' he said. `Yes. But it has gone, I'm sure. There's a difference in you.' Vimes rubbed the symbol. It didn't hurt; it was simply raised,

reddened skin. `It's not going to come back, is it?' he said. `I doubt it'll risk it, sir!' said Angua.

Vimes had opened his mouth to ask her what she meant by that piece of sarcasm when yet more dwarfs trotted into the cavern.

These were the tallest and broadest he'd seen. Unlike most dwarfs they wore simple mail shirts and carried one axe: one good, large and beautifully balanced axe. Other dwarfs bristled with up to a dozen weapons. These dwarfs bristled with one each, and they separated and spread out into the cavern with a purpose, covering lines of sight, guarding shadows and, in the case of four of them, taking up station behind Detritus and Brick.

When they finally clattered to a halt another group stepped out of the tunnel. Vimes recognized Rhys, Low King of the Dwarfs. He stopped, looked around, glanced briefly at Vimes, and summoned the captain to him.

`We have everything?'

`Sire?' said Gud nervously.

`You know what I mean, captain!'

`Yes, but we found nothing on any of them, sire! We searched them, and we've gone over the floor three times!' `Excuse me?' said Vimes.

`Commander Vimes!' said the King, turning and greeting Vimes like a long-lost son. `It is good to see you!'

`You've lost the bloody cube?' said Vimes. `After all this?'

`What cube would this be, commander?' said the King. Vimes had to admire his acting ability, at least.

`The one you're looking for,' he said. `The one dug up in my city. The one all this fuss is about. They wouldn't throw it away because they're grags, right? You can't destroy words. It's the worst crime there is. So they'd keep it with them.'

The Low King looked at Captain Gud, who swallowed.

`It's not in this cave,' he muttered.

`They wouldn't leave it anywhere else,' said Vimes. `Not now! Someone might find it!'

The luckless captain turned to his king, seeking help there.

`There was panic everywhere when we arrived, sire!' he protested. `People running and screaming, fires everywhere! Complete chaos, sire! All we can be sure of is that no one got out! And we searched them all, sire. We searched them all!'

Vimes shut his eyes. Memories were fading fast as common sense walled up all those things that could not have happened, but he recalled the panicking grags, hunched over something. Had there been just a twinkle of blue and green specks?