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"
You
mean
,
"
said
Vimes
,
"
all
this
is
just
-
just
show
?
He
’
s
just
doing
it
to
impress
?
"
"
’
S
’
not
his
fault
,
"
said
Colon
,
materialising
behind
them
.
"
It
’
s
like
dogs
,
innit
?
Doesn
’
t
really
dawn
on
the
poor
little
bugger
that
he
’
s
up
against
a
big
one
.
He
’
s
just
ready
for
a
scrap
.
"
Both
dragons
appeared
to
realise
that
the
fight
was
the
well
-
known
Klatchian
standoff
.
With
another
smoke
ring
and
a
billow
of
white
flame
they
parted
and
retreated
a
few
hundred
yards
.
The
king
hovered
,
flapping
its
wings
quickly
.
Height
.
That
was
the
thing
.
When
dragon
fought
dragon
,
height
was
always
the
thing
.
.
.
Errol
balanced
on
his
flame
.
He
seemed
to
be
thinking
.
Then
he
nonchalantly
kicked
his
back
legs
out
as
though
hovering
on
your
own
stomach
gases
was
something
dragons
had
mastered
over
millions
of
years
,
somersaulted
,
and
fled
.
For
a
moment
he
was
visible
as
a
silver
streak
,
and
then
he
was
out
over
the
city
walls
and
gone
.
A
groan
followed
him
.
It
came
from
ten
thousand
throats
.
Vimes
threw
up
his
hands
.
"
Don
’
t
you
worry
,
guv
,
"
said
Nobby
quickly
.
"
He
’
s
-
he
’
s
probably
gone
to
,
to
have
a
drink
.
Or
something
.
Maybe
it
’
s
the
end
of
round
one
.
Or
something
.
"
"
I
mean
,
he
ate
our
kettle
and
everything
,
"
said
Colon
uncertainly
.
"
He
wouldn
’
t
just
run
away
after
eating
a
kettle
.
Stands
to
reason
.
Anyone
who
could
eat
a
kettle
wouldn
’
t
run
away
from
anything
.
"
