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He
tapped
the
side
of
his
helmet
meaningfully
.
"
That
’
s
’
cos
we
’
re
intelligent
.
"
Vimes
landed
in
damp
straw
and
also
in
pitch
darkness
,
although
after
a
while
his
eyes
became
accustomed
to
the
gloom
and
he
could
make
out
the
walls
of
the
dungeon
.
It
hadn
’
t
been
built
for
gracious
living
.
It
was
basically
just
a
space
containing
all
the
pillars
and
arches
that
supported
the
palace
.
At
the
far
end
a
small
grille
high
on
the
wall
let
in
a
mere
suspicion
of
grubby
,
second
-
hand
light
.
There
was
another
square
hole
in
the
floor
.
It
was
also
barred
.
The
bars
were
quite
rusty
,
though
.
It
occurred
to
Vimes
that
he
could
probably
work
them
loose
eventually
,
and
then
all
he
would
have
to
do
was
slim
down
enough
to
go
through
a
nine
-
inch
hole
.
What
the
dungeon
did
not
contain
was
any
rats
,
scorpions
,
cockroaches
or
snakes
.
It
had
once
contained
snakes
,
it
was
true
,
because
Vimes
’
s
sandals
crunched
on
small
,
long
white
skeletons
.
He
crept
cautiously
along
one
damp
wall
,
wondering
where
the
rhythmic
scraping
sound
was
coming
from
.
He
rounded
a
squat
pillar
,
and
found
out
.
The
Patrician
was
shaving
,
squinting
into
a
scrap
of
mirror
propped
against
the
pillar
to
catch
the
light
.
No
,
Vimes
realised
,
not
propped
.
Supported
,
in
fact
.
By
a
rat
.
It
was
a
large
rat
,
with
red
eyes
.
The
Patrician
nodded
to
him
without
apparent
surprise
.
"
Oh
,
"
he
said
.
"
Vimes
,
isn
’
t
it
?
I
heard
you
were
on
the
way
down
.
Jolly
good
.
You
had
better
tell
the
kitchen
staff
-
"
and
here
Vimes
realised
that
the
man
was
speaking
to
the
rat
-
"
that
there
will
be
two
for
lunch
.
Would
you
like
a
beer
,
Vimes
?
"
