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Vimes
picked
himself
up
off
the
greasy
cobbles
and
stared
at
the
Librarian
.
He
was
experiencing
something
which
had
come
as
a
shock
to
many
people
,
usually
in
much
more
unpleasant
circumstances
such
as
a
brawl
started
in
the
Mended
Drum
when
the
ape
wanted
a
bit
of
peace
and
quiet
to
enjoy
a
reflective
pint
,
which
was
this
:
the
Librarian
might
look
like
a
stuffed
rubber
sack
,
but
what
it
was
stuffed
with
was
muscle
.
"
That
was
amazing
,
"
was
all
he
could
find
to
say
.
He
looked
down
at
the
twisted
bars
,
and
felt
his
mind
darken
.
He
grabbed
the
bent
metal
.
"
You
don
’
t
happen
to
know
where
Wonse
is
,
do
you
?
"
he
added
.
"
Eeek
!
"
The
Librarian
thrust
a
tattered
piece
of
parchment
under
his
nose
.
"
Eeek
!
"
Vimes
read
the
words
.
It
hathe
pleased
.
.
.
whereas
.
.
.
at
the
stroke
of
noone
.
.
.
a
maiden
pure
,
yet
high
born
.
.
.
compact
between
ruler
and
ruled
.
.
.
"
In
my
city
!
"
he
growled
.
"
In
my
bloody
city
!
"
He
grabbed
the
Librarian
by
two
handfuls
of
chest
hair
and
pulled
him
up
to
eye
height
.
"
What
time
is
it
?
"
he
shouted
.
"
Oook
!
"
A
long
red
-
haired
arm
unfolded
itself
upwards
.
Vimes
’
s
gaze
followed
the
pointing
finger
.
