tp.guards!guards!-第19部分

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ligent　than　waitin'　for　a　so…called　real　king。〃
　〃But；〃　Brother　Plasterer　seemed　deep　in　the　toils　of　cerebration；　〃if　we　control　the　dragon；　and　we　do　control　the　dragon；　right？　Then　we　don't　need　anyone　killing　it；　we　just　stop　summoning　it；　and　everyone　'll　be　happy；　right？〃
　〃Ho　yes；〃　said　Brother　Watchtower　nastily；　〃I　can　just　see　it；　can　you？　We　just　trot　out；　say　'Hallo；　we　won't　set　fire　to　your　houses　any　more；　aren't　we　nice'；　do　we？　The　whole　point　about　the　thing　with　the　king　is　that　he'll　be　a；　a　sort　of。。。〃
　〃Undeniably　potent　and　romantic　symbol　of　absolute　authority；〃　said　the　Supreme　Grand　Master　smoothly。
　〃That's　it；〃　said　Brother　Watchtower。　〃A　potent　authority。〃
　〃Oh；　I　see；〃　said　Brother　Plasterer。　〃Right。　Okay。　That's　what　the　king　'll　be。〃
　〃That's　it；〃　said　Brother　Watchtower。
　〃No…one　going　to　argue　with　a　potent　authority；　are　they？〃
　〃Too　right；〃　said　Brother　Watchtower。
　〃Stroke　of　luck；　then；　finding　the　true　king　right　now；〃　said　Brother　Plasterer。　〃Million　to　one　chance；　really。〃
　〃We　haven't　found　the　right　king。　We　don't　need　the　right　king；〃　said　the　Supreme　Grand　Master　wearily。　〃For　the　last　time！　I've　just　found　us　a　likely　lad　who　looks　good　in　a　crown　and　can　take　orders　and　knows　how　to　flourish　a　sword。　Now　just　listen　。。。〃
　Flourishing；　of　course；　was　important。　It　didn't　have　much　to　do　with　wielding。　Wielding　a　sword；　the　Supreme　Grand　Master　considered；　was　simply　the　messy　business　of　dynastic　surgery。　It　was　just　a　matter　of　thrust　and　cut。　Whereas　a　king　had　to　flourish　one。　It　had　to　catch　the　light　in　just　the　right　way；　leaving　watchers　in　no　doubt　that　here　was　Destiny's　chosen。　He'd　taken　a　long　time　preparing　the　sword　and　shield。　It　had　been　very　expensive。　The　shield　shone　like　a　dollar　in　a　sweep's　earhole　but　the　sword；　the　sword　was　magnificent　。　。　。
　It　was　long　and　shiny。　It　looked　like　something　some　genius　of　metalwork　…　one　of　those　little　Zen　guys　who　works　only　by　the　light　of　dawn　and　can　beat　a　club　sandwich　of　folded　steels　into　something　with　the　cutting　edge　of　a　scalpel　and　the　stopping…power　of　a　sex…crazed　rhinoceros　on　bad　acid…had　made　and　then　retired　in　tears　because　he'd　never；　ever；　do　anything　so　good　again。　There　were　so　many　jewels　on　the　hilt　it　had　to　be　sheathed　in　velvet；　you　had　to　look　at　it　through　smoked　glass。　Just　laying　a　hand　on　it　practically　conferred　kingship。
　As　for　the　lad　。。。　he　was　a　distant　cousin；　keen　and　vain；　and　stupid　in　a　passably　aristocratic　way。　Currently　he　was　under　guard　in　a　distant　farmhouse；　with　an　adequate　supply　of　drink　and　several　young　ladies；　although　what　the　boy　seemed　most　interested　in　was　mirrors。　Probably　hero　material；　the　Supreme　Grand　Master　thought　glumly。
　〃I　suppose；〃　said　Brother　Watchtower；　〃that　he　isn't　the　real　air　to　the　throne？〃
　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　said　the　Supreme　Grand　Master。
　〃Well；　you　know　how　it　is。　Fate　plays　funny　tricks。　Ha…ha。　It'd　be　a　laugh；　wouldn't　it；〃　said　Brother　Watchtower；　'　'if　this　lad　turned　out　to　be　the　real　king。　After　all　this　trouble…〃
　〃There　is　no　real　king　any　more！〃　snapped　the　Supreme　Grand　Master。　〃What　do　you　expect？　Some　people　wandering　in　the　wilderness　for　hundreds　and　hundreds　of　years；　patiently　handing　down　a　sword　and　a　birthmark？　Some　sort　of　magic？〃　He　spat　the　word。　He'd　make　use　of　magic；　means　to　an　end；　end　justifies　means　and　so　forth；　but　to　go　around　believing　it；　believing　it　had　some　sort　of　moral　force；　like　logic；　made　him　wince。　〃Good　grief；　man；　be　logical！　Be　rational。　Even　if　any　of　the　old　royal　family　survived；　the　blood　line'd　be　so　watered　down　by　now　that　there　must　be　thousands　of　people　who　lay　claim　to　the　throne。　Even；〃　he　tried　to　think　of　the　least　likely　claimant；〃even　someone　like　Brother　Dunnykin。〃　He　stared　at　the　assembled　Brethren。　〃Don't　see　him　here　tonight；　by　the　way。〃
　〃Funny　thing；　that；〃　said　Brother　Watchtower　thoughtfully。　〃Didn't　you　hear？〃
　〃What？〃
　〃He　got　bitten　by　a　crocodile　on　his　way　home　last　night。　Poor　little　bugger。〃
　〃What？〃
　〃Million　to　one　chance。　It'd　escaped　from　a　menagerie；　or　something；　and　was　lying　low　in　his　back　yard。　He　went　to　feel　under　his　doormat　for　his　door　key　and　it　had　him　by　the　funes。〃＇14＇　Brother　Watchtower　fumbled　under　his　robe　and　produced　a　grubby　brown　envelope。　〃We're　having　a　whip…round　to　buy　him　some　grapes　and　that；　I　don't　know　whether　you'd　like　to；　er　。　。　。〃
　〃Put　me　down　for　three　dollars；〃　said　the　Supreme　Grand　Master。
　Brother　Watchtower　nodded。　〃Funny　thing；〃　he　said；　〃I　already　have。〃
　Just　a　few　more　nights；　thought　the　Supreme　Grand　Master。　By　tomorrow　the　people　'll　be　so　desperate；　they'd　crown　even　a　one…legged　troll　if　he　got　rid　of　the　dragon。　And　we'll　have　a　king；　and　he'll　have　an　advisor；　a　trusted　man；　of　course；　and　this　stupid　rabble　can　go　back　to　the　gutter。　No　more　dressing　up；　no　more　ritual。
　No　more　summoning　the　dragon。
　I　can　give　it　up；　he　thought。　I　can　give　it　up　any　time　I　like。
　　
　。。。
　　
　The　streets　outside　the　Patrician's　palace　were　thronged。　There　was　a　manic　air　of　carnival。　Vimes　ran　a　practiced　eye　over　the　assortment　before　him。　It　was　the　usual　Ankh…Morpork　mob　in　times　of　crisis；　half　of　them　were　here　to　plain；　a　quarter　of　them　were　here　to　watch　the　other　half；　and　the　remainder　were　here　to　rob；　importune　or　sell　hot…dogs　to　the　rest。　There　were　a　few　new　faces；　though。　There　were　a　number　of　grim　men　with　big　swords　slung　over　their　shoulders　and　whips　slung　on　their　belts；　striding　through　the　crowds。
　〃News　spreads　quick；　don't　it；〃　observed　a　familiar　voice　by　his　ear。　〃Morning；　Captain。〃
　Vimes　looked　into　the　grinning；　cadaverous　face　of　Cut…me…own…Throat　Dibbler；　purveyor　of　absolutely　anything　that　could　be　sold　hurriedly　from　an　open　suitcase　in　a　busy　street　and　was　guaranteed　to　have　fallen　off　the　back　of　an　oxcart。
　〃Morning；　Throat；〃　said　Vimes　absently。　〃What're　you　selling？〃
　〃Genuine　article；　Captain。〃　Throat　leaned　closer。　He　was　the　sort　of　person　who　could　make　〃Good　morning〃　sound　like　a　once…in…a…lifetime；　never…to…be…repeated　offer。　His　eyes　swivelled　back　and　forth　in　their　sockets；　like　two　rodents　trying　to　find　a　way　out。　〃Can't　afford　to　be　without　it；〃　he　hissed。　〃Anti…dragon　cream。　Personal　guarantee：　if　you're　incinerated　you　get　your　money　back；　no　quibble。〃
　〃What　you're　saying；〃　said　Vimes　slowly；　〃if　I　understand　the　wording　correctly；　is　that　if　I　am　baked　alive　by　the　dragon　you'll　return　the　money？〃
　〃Upon　personal　application；〃　said　Cut…me…own…Throat。　He　unscrewed　the　lid　from　a　jar　of　vivid　green　ointment　and　thrust　it　under　Vimes's　nose。　〃Made　from　over　fifty　different　rare　spices　and　herbs　to　a　recipe　known　only　to　a　bunch　of　ancient　monks　what　live　on　some　mountain　somewhere。　One　dollar　a　jar；　and　I'm　cutting　my　own　throat。　It's　a　public　service；　really；〃　he　added　piously。
　〃You've　got　to　hand　it　to　those　ancient　monks；　brewing　it　up　so　quickly；〃　said　Vimes。
　〃Clever　buggers；〃　agreed　Cut…me…own…Throat。　〃It　must　be　all　that　meditation　and　yak　yogurt。〃
　〃So　what's　happening；　Throat？〃　said　Vimes。　〃Who're　all　the　guys　with　the　big　swords？〃
　〃Dragon　hunters；　Cap'n。　The　Patrician　announced　a　reward　of　fifty　thousand　dollars　to　anyone　who　brings　him　the　dragon's　head。　Not　attached　to　the　dragon；　either；　he's　no　fool；　that　man。〃
　〃What？〃
　〃That's　what　he　said。　It's　all　written　on　posters。〃
　〃Fifty　thousand　dollars！〃
　〃Not　chicken　feed；　eh？〃
　〃More　like　dragon　fodder；〃　said　Vimes。　It'd　bring　trouble；　you　mark　his　words。　〃I'm　amazed　you're　not　grabbing　a　sword　and　joining　in。〃
　〃I'm　more　in　what　you　might　call　the　service　sector；　Cap'n。〃　Throat　looked　both　ways　conspiratorially；　and　then　passed　Vimes　a　slip　of　parchment。
　It　said：
　　
　Anti…dragon　mirror　shields　A　500
　Portable　lair　detectors　A250
　Dragon…piercing　arrows　A100　per　each
　Shovels　A5　Picks　A5　Sacks　Al
　　
　Vimes　handed　it　back。　〃Why　the　sacks？〃　he　said。
　〃On　account　of　the　hoard；〃　said　Throat。
　〃Oh；　yes；〃　said　Vimes　gloomily。　〃Of　course。〃
　〃Tell　you　what；〃　said　Throat；　〃tell　you　what。　For　our　boys　in　brown；　ten　percent　off。〃
　〃And　you're　cutting　your　own　throat；　Throat？〃
　〃Fifteen　percent　for　officers！〃　urged　Throat；　as　Vimes　walked　away。　The　cause　of　the　slight　panic　in　his　voice　was　soon　apparent。　He　had　plenty　of　petition。
　The　people　of　Ankh…Morpork　were　not　by　nature　heroic　but　were；　by　nature；　salesmen。　In　the　space　of　a　few　feet　Vimes　could　have　bought　any　number　of　magical　weapons　Genuine　certyfycate　of　orthenticity　with　everyone；　a　cloak　of　invisibility　…　a　good　touch；　he　thought；　and　he　was　really　impressed　by　the　way　the　stall　owner　was　using　a　mirror　with　no　glass　in　it…　and；　by　way　of　lighter　relief；　dragon　biscuits；　balloons　and　windmills　on　sticks。　Copper　bracelets　guaranteed　to　bring　relief　from　dragons　were　a　nice　thought。
　There　seemed　to　be　as　many　sacks　and　shovels　about　as　there　were　swords。
　Gold；　that　was　it。　The　hoard。　Hah！
　Fifty　thousand　dollars！　An　officer　of　the　Watch　earned　thirty　dollars　a　month　and　had　to　pay　to　have　his　own　dents　beaten　out。
　What　he　couldn't　do　with　fifty　thousand　dollars　。　。　。
　Vimes　thought　about　this　for　a　while　and　then　thought　of　the　things　he　could　do　with　fifty　thousand　dollars。　There　were　so　many　more　of　them；　for　a　start。
　He　almost　walked　into　a　group　of　men　clustered　around　a　poster　nailed　to　the　wall。　It　declared；　indeed；　that　the　head　of　the　dragon　that　had　terrorized　the　city　would　be　worth　A50；000　to　the　brave　hero　that　delivered　it　to　the　palace。
　One　of　the　cluster；　who　from　his　size；　weaponry　and　that　way　he　was　slowly　tracing　the　lettering　with　his　finger　Vimes　decided　was　a　leading　hero；　was　doing　the　reading　for　the　others。
　〃。。。to　ter…her　pal…ack…ee；〃　he　concluded。
　〃Fifty　thousand；〃　said　one　of　them　reflectively；　rubbing　his　chin。
　〃Cheap　job；〃　said　the　intellectual。　〃Well　below　the　rate。　Should　be　half　the　kingdom　and　his　daughter's　hand　in　marriage。〃
　〃Yes；　but　he　ain't　a　king。　He's　a　Patrician。〃
　〃Well；　half　his　Patrimony　or　whatever。　What's　his　daughter　like？〃
　The　assembled　hunters　didn't　know。
　〃He's　not　married；〃　Vimes　volunteered。　〃So　he　hasn't　got　a　daughter。〃
　They　turned　and　looked　h