There were various dragons, fish and miscellaneous animals. On the roof of the Assassins' Guild a silhouette of one of the members squeaked into a new position, cloak and dagger at the ready. On the Beggars' Guild a tin beggar's hand asked the wind for a quarter. On the Butchers' Guild a copper pig sniffed the air. On the roof of the Thieves' Guild a real if rather decreased unlicensed thief turned gently, which shows what you are capable of if you try, or at least if you try stealing without a licence.

The one on the library dome of Unseen University was running slow and wouldn't show the change for half an hour yet, but the smell of the sea drifted over the city.

There was a tradition of soap-box public speaking in Sator Square

So did the Watch.

It wasn't spying Commander Vimes told himself. Spying was when you crept around peeking in windows. It wasn't spying when you had to stand back a bit so that you weren't deafened.

He reached out without paying attention and struck a match on Sergeant Detritus.

“Dat was me, sir,” said the troll reproachfully.

“Sorry, sergeant,” said Vimes, lighting his cigar.

“It not a problem.”

They returned their attention to the speakers.

It's the wind, thought Vimes. It's bringing something new…

Usually the speakers dealt with all kinds of subjects, many of them on the cusp of sanity or somewhere in the peaceful valleys on the other side. But now they were all monomaniacs.

“—time they were taught a lesson!” screamed the nearest one. “Why don't our so-called masters listen to the voice of the people? Ankh-Morpork has had enough of these swaggering brigands! They steal our fish, they steal our trade and now they're stealing our land!”

It would have been better if people had cheered, Vimes thought. People generally cheered the speakers indiscriminately, to egg them on. But the crowd around this man just seemed to nod approval. He thought: they're actually thinking about what he said…