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"
-
say
anything
,
er
,
but
anything
you
do
say
will
be
written
down
,
er
,
here
,
in
my
notebook
,
and
,
er
,
may
be
used
in
evidence
-
"
Carrot
’
s
voice
trailed
into
silence
.
"
Well
,
if
this
pantomime
gives
you
any
pleasure
,
Vimes
,
"
said
the
Patrician
eventually
,
"
take
him
down
to
the
cells
.
I
’
ll
deal
with
him
in
the
morning
.
"
Wonse
made
no
signal
.
There
was
no
scream
or
cry
.
He
just
rushed
at
the
Patrician
,
sword
raised
.
Options
flickered
across
Vimes
’
s
mind
.
In
the
lead
came
the
suggestion
that
standing
back
would
be
a
good
plan
,
let
Wonse
do
it
,
disarm
him
afterwards
,
let
the
city
clean
itself
up
.
Yes
.
A
good
plan
.
And
it
was
therefore
a
total
mystery
to
him
why
he
chose
to
dart
forward
,
bringing
Carrot
’
s
sword
up
in
a
half
-
baked
attempt
at
blocking
the
stroke
.
.
.
Perhaps
it
was
something
to
do
with
doing
it
by
the
book
.
There
was
a
clang
.
Not
a
particularly
loud
one
.
He
felt
something
bright
and
silver
whirr
past
his
ear
and
strike
the
wall
.
Wonse
’
s
mouth
fell
open
.
He
dropped
the
remnant
of
his
sword
and
backed
away
,
clutching
The
Summoning
.
"
You
’
ll
be
sorry
,
"
he
hissed
.
"
You
’
ll
all
be
very
sorry
!
"
