“I believe informal citizens’ committees enforce Nugganatic law,” said Chinny.

“Oh, gods. Prodnoses, curtain-twitchers and vigilantes,” said Vimes. He stood up and peered out through the narrow window at the plain below. It was night-time. Cooking-fires in the enemy camp made demonic constellations in the darkness.

“Did they tell you why I’ve been sent here, Clarence?” he said.

“No, sir. My instructions were that you would, um, oversee things. Prince Heinrich is not very happy about it.”

“Oh, well, the interests of Ankh-Morpork are the interests of all money-lov– oops, sorry, all freedom–loving people everywhere,” said Vimes. “We can’t have a country that turns back our mail coaches and keeps cutting down the clacks towers. That’s expensive. They’re cutting the continent in half, they’re the pinch in the hourglass. I’m to bring things to a ‘satisfactory’ conclusion. And frankly, Clarence, I’m wondering if it’s even worth attacking Borogravia. It’ll be cheaper to sit here and wait for it to explode. Although I notice… where was that report… ah, yes… it will starve first.”

“Regrettably so, sir.”

Igor stood mutely in front of the recruiting table.

“Don’t often see you people these days,” said Jackrum.

“Yeah, run out of fresh brains, ’ave yer?” said the corporal nastily.

“Now then, corporal, no call for that,” said the sergeant, leaning back in his creaking chair. “There’s plenty of lads out there walking around on legs they wouldn’t still have if there hadn’t been a friendly Igor around, eh, Igor?”

“Yeah? Well, I heard about people waking up and findin’ their friendly Igor had whipped out their brains in the middle of the night and buggered off to flog ’em,” said the corporal, glaring at Igor.

“I promith you your brain ith entirely thafe from me, corporal,” said Igor. Polly started to laugh, and stopped when she realized absolutely no one else was doing so.