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'What is the dwarf word for "open"; Mr Bashfullsson?' said Vimes.
'In the sense of "open a book"? That would be "dhwe", commander.'
'Hmm. That won't do. How about... "say"?'
'Why, that would be "aargk", or, in the peremptive form, "cork!", commander. You
know, I don't think-'
'Excuse me!' said Vimes loudly. The babble of voices stopped.
'Awk!' he said.
The blue and green lights ceased their sparkle and, instead, began to move across
the metal to form a pattern of blue and green squares.
'I thought the artist knew no dwarfish,' said the King.
'He didn't, but he spoke fluent Chicken,' said Vimes. 'I'll explain later...'
'Captain, fetch the grags,' the King snapped. 'The prisoners too, even the trolls. All
shall hear this!'
The cube's surface seemed to be moving over Vimes's skin. Some of the green and
blue squares rose slightly proud of the rest of the metal.
The box began to speak. There was a crackle that sounded like dwarfish, although
Vimes couldn't make out a single word. It was followed by a couple of loud knocking
noises.
'Second Convocation Hubland Dwarfish,' said Bashfullsson. 'That would be right for
the time. Whoever is speaking has just said: "Art thys thyng workyng?"'
The voice spoke again. As the cracked old syllables unrolled, Bashfullsson went on:
'The first thyng Tak did, he wroten hymself; the second thyng Tak did, he wroten the
Laws; the thyrd thyng Tak did, he wroten the World; the fourth thyng Tak did, he
wroten ay cave; the fyfth thyng Tak did, he wroten a geode, ay egge of stone; and in
the gloamyn of the mouth of the cave, the geode hatched and the Brothers were
born; the first Brother walked towards the light, and stood under the open sky-'
'This is just the story of the Things Tak Wrote,' Cheery whispered to Vimes. Vimes
shrugged, and watched as some of the bodyguards hustled the old grags into the
circle, Ardent among them.
'It's not new or anything?' Vimes said, disappointed. 'Every dwarf knows it, sir.'
'-He was the first Dwarf,' Bashfullsson translated. 'He found the Laws Tak had
written, and he was endarkened-'
The crackling voice went on and then Bashfullsson, who had his eyes closed in
concentration, opened them in shock.
'... uh Then Tak looked upon the stone and it was trying to come alive, and Tak
smiled and wrote: "All things strive",' said the dwarf, raising his voice above the
growing commotion around him. 'And for the service the stone had given he
fashioned it into the first Troll, and delighted in the life that came unbidden. These are
the things that Tak wrote!' He was shouting now, because of the noise level.
Vimes felt like an outsider. It seemed that everyone except him was arguing. Axes
were being flourished.
'I WHO SPEAK TO YOU NOW AM B'HRIAN BLOODAXE, BY RIGHT OF THE
SCONE THE TRUE KING OF THE DWARFS!' Bashfullsson screamed.
The cave went silent, except for the echoing scream returning from distant darkness.
'We were washed into the caves by the flood. We sought one another, voices in the
dark. We are dying. Our bodies are broken by the terrible water with teeth of stone.
We are too weak to climb. Water surrounds all. This testament we will entrust to
young Stronginthearm, who is still nimble, in the hope that it will reach the daylight.
For the story of this day must not be forgotten. This outcome was not meant! We
came to sign a treaty! It was the secret, careful work of many years!'
The box stopped speaking. But there were faint groans, and the rush of water
somewhere.
'Sire, I demand that this should not be heard!' shouted Ardent from among the grags.
'It is nothing but lies upon lies. There is no truth in it! What proof is there that this is
the voice of Bloodaxe?'
Captain Gud is looking a bit uncertain, Vimes thought. The King's bodyguard? Well,
they mostly looked like the stolid kind who stayed loyal and didn't pay much attention
to politics. The miners? Angry and confused because the old grags are yelling. This
is going to go bad really fast.
'City Watch, to me!' he shouted.
The background noises from the cube died and another voice started to speak.
Detritus looked up quickly.
'Dat's Old Troll!' he said.
Bashfullsson hesitated for a moment. '... er I am Diamond King of Trolls,' he said,
looking desperately at Vimes. 'Indeed we came to make peace. But the mist came
down upon us and when it rose some trolls and dwarfs cried Ambush! They fell to
fighting and would not hear our commands. So troll fought troll, and dwarf fought
dwarf, and fools made fools of all of us as we fought to stop a war, until the disgusted
sky washed us away.
'And yet we say this. Here in this cave at the end of the world peace is made
between dwarf and troll and we will march beyond the hand of Death together. For
the enemy is not Troll, nor is it Dwarf, but it is the baleful, the malign, the cowardly,
the vessels of hatred, those who do a bad thing and call it good. Those we fought
today, but the wilful fool is eternal and will say-'
'This is just a trick!' Ardent shouted.
'-say this is a trick,' Bashfullsson continued, 'and so we implore: come to the caves
under this valley, where you will find us sharing the peace that cannot be braken.'
The rumbling voice from the box stopped speaking. There was, once again, a rustle
of half-heard voices, and then silence.
The little squares moved about like a sliding puzzle for a moment, and sound came
back. Now what issued from the box was shouts and screams, and the clash of steel
Vimes was watching the King's face. Some of this you knew, right. Not all of it, but
you didn't look surprised that it was Bloodaxe speaking. Rumours? Old stories?
Something in the records? You'll never tell me.
'Had'ra,' said Bashfullsson, and the cube fell silent. 'That means stop, commander,'
the grag added.
'And so we are under Koom Valley,' sneered Ardent. 'And what do we find?'
'We find you,' said Bashfullsson. 'We always find you.'
'Dead trolls. Dead dwarfs. And nothing more than a voice,' said Ardent.
'Ankh-Morpork here is here. They are devious. These words could have been spoken
yesterday!'
The King was watching Ardent and Bashfullsson. So was every other dwarf. You
don't have to stand and argue! Vimes wanted to shout. Just chain the bastards up
and we can sort it out later!
But being a dwarf was all about words and laws
'These are venerable grags,' said Ardent, indicating the robed figures behind him.
'They have studied the Histories! They have studied the Devices! Thousands of years
of knowledge stand before you. And you? What do you know?'
'You came to destroy the truth,' said Bashfullsson. 'You dared not trust it. A voice is
just a voice, but these bodies are proof. You came here to destroy them.'
Ardent snatched the axe from a miner and was flourishing it before any of the
bodyguards could react. When realization caught up with them, there was a massed
move forward.
'No!' said Bashfullsson, holding up his hands. 'Sire, please! This is an argument
between grags!'
'Why do you carry no axe?' Ardent snarled.
'I need no axe to be a dwarf,' said Bashfullsson. 'Nor do I need to hate trolls. What
kind of creature defines itself by hatred?'
'You strike at the very root of us!' said Ardent. 'At the root!'
'Then strike back,' said Bashfullsson, holding out his empty hands. 'And put your
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