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"
You
’
re
all
bloody
mad
!
"
shouted
Vimes
.
"
You
don
’
t
know
anything
about
him
and
he
hasn
’
t
even
won
yet
!
"
"
Bit
of
a
formality
,
I
expect
,
"
said
the
woman
.
"
It
’
s
a
fire
-
breathing
dragon
!
"
screamed
Vimes
,
remembering
those
nostrils
.
"
And
he
’
s
just
a
guy
on
a
horse
,
for
heaven
’
s
sake
!
"
Throat
prodded
him
gently
in
the
breastplate
.
"
You
got
no
soul
,
Cap
’
n
,
"
he
said
.
"
When
a
stranger
comes
into
the
city
under
the
thrall
of
the
dragon
and
challenges
it
with
a
glittery
sword
,
weeell
,
there
’
s
only
one
outcome
,
ain
’
t
there
?
It
’
s
probably
destiny
.
"
"
Thrall
?
"
shouted
Vimes
.
"
Thrall
?
You
thieving
bugger
,
Throat
,
you
were
flogging
cuddly
dragon
dolls
yesterday
!
"
"
That
’
s
was
just
business
,
Cap
’
n
.
No
need
to
get
excited
about
it
,
"
said
Throat
pleasantly
.
Vimes
went
back
to
the
rank
in
a
gloomy
rage
.
Say
what
you
liked
about
the
people
of
Ankh
-
Morpork
,
they
had
always
been
staunchly
independent
,
yielding
to
no
man
their
right
to
rob
,
defraud
,
embezzle
and
murder
on
an
equal
basis
.
This
seemed
absolutely
right
,
to
Vimes
’
s
way
of
thinking
.
There
was
no
difference
at
all
between
the
richest
man
and
the
poorest
beggar
,
apart
from
the
fact
that
the
former
had
lots
of
money
,
food
,
power
,
fine
clothes
,
and
good
health
.
But
at
least
he
wasn
’
t
any
better
.
Just
richer
,
fatter
,
more
powerful
,
better
dressed
and
healthier
.
It
had
been
like
that
for
hundreds
of
years
.
"
And
now
they
get
one
sniff
of
an
ermine
robe
and
they
go
all
gooey
,
"
he
muttered
.
The
dragon
was
circling
the
plaza
slowly
and
warily
.
Vimes
craned
to
see
over
the
heads
in
front
of
him
.
