‘And that was a good thing, was it?’ said Vimes.
‘Oh, yes. It’s why you’re still here, commander,’ said Bashfullsson, appearing from behind a stalagmite. ‘I’m glad to see you up and about again. This is an historic day! And you still have a soul, it appears! Isn’t that nice?’
‘Now you listen to me—’ Vimes began.
‘No, you listen to me, commander. Yes, I knew you’d come to Koom Valley, because the Summoning Dark would come here. It needed you to bring it. No, listen to me, because we don’t have much time. The Summoning Dark symbol commands an entity as old as the universe. But it has no real body and very little physical strength; it can cover a million dimensions in the blink of an eye but could barely make it across a room. It works through living creatures, especially ones it finds… amenable. It found you, commander, a cauldron of anger, and in small subtle ways it saw that you got it to this place.’
‘I believe him, sir,’ said Angua quickly. ‘It was the one called up as a curse by one of the miners. Remember? The one who drew the sign in his own blood? On a locked door? And you—’
‘There was a door that stung when I touched it, I remember…’ said Vimes. ‘Are you telling me that behind that door he— Oh, no…’
‘He was already dead by then, sir, I’m positive about that,’ said Angua quickly. ‘We couldn’t have saved him.’
‘Helmclever said—’ Vimes began, and Bashfullsson must have seen the panic rising in his eyes, because he grabbed both Vimes’s hands and spoke fast and urgently: ‘No! You didn’t kill him! You didn’t even touch him! You were afraid that if you did I’d say you’d used force, remember?’
‘He dropped dead! How much force is that?’ Vimes shouted. His voice echoed, and heads turned all across the cavern. ‘There was the symbol, wasn’t there?’
‘It’s true that the… creature tends to leave a, a signature on events, but you would have had to touch him! You did not! You did not raise a hand! I think you would have resisted even then! Resisted and won! Do you hear me? Calm down. Calm down. He died of fear and guilt. You must realize that.’
‘What reason did he have to feel guilty?’
‘Every reason, for a dwarf. That mine bore down so heavily on him.’ The grag turned to Angua. ‘Sergeant, could you get the commander some water? It’s as pure in these pools as anywhere in the world. Well, it is if you pick one without a body floating in it.’
‘Y’know, you could have avoided that last sentence,’ said Vimes. He sat down on a rock. He could feel himself shaking.
‘And then I got the damn thing here?’ he managed.
‘Yes, commander. And it got you here too, I suspect. Cheery says she saw you drop into churning water half a mile from where we are now. Even a champion swimmer wouldn’t have survived that.’
‘I woke up on a beach—’
‘It got you there. It swam your body for you.’
‘But I was all knocked about!’
‘Oh, it wasn’t your friend, commander. It needed to get you here in one piece. It didn’t have to be a good-looking piece. And then… you disappointed it, commander. You disappointed it. Or, perhaps, impressed it. It’s hard to tell. You wouldn’t strike the helpless, you see. You resisted. I had the sergeant here bring you down because I was frightened that the struggle inside would rip your tendons from your bones.’
‘They were just frightened old men…’
‘And so it appears to have let you go,’ said the dwarf. ‘I wonder why? Historically, anyone subject to the Summoning Dark dies insane.’
Vimes reached up and took a mug of water from Angua. It was teeth-achingly cold and the best drink he’d ever tasted. And his mind worked fast, flying in emergency supplies of common sense, as human minds do, to construct a huge anchor in sanity and prove that what had happened hadn’t really happened and, if it had happened, hadn’t happened much.
It was all mystic, that’s what it was. Oh, it might all be true, but how could you ever tell? You had to stick to the things you can see. And you had to keep reminding yourself of that, too.
Yeah, that was it. What had really happened, eh? A few signs? Well, anything can look like you want it to if you’re wound up enough, yes? A sheep can look like a cow, right? Ha!
As for the rest, well, Bashfullsson seemed a decent lad, but you didn’t have to buy into his world view. Same with Mr Shine. That sort of thing could spook you.
He’d been wound up about Young Sam, and when he’d seen those devil guards of course he’d gone for them. He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. It seemed like every hour brought some new problem. The mind played funny tricks. Surviving the underground river? Easy. He must have kept himself afloat. There were a lot of things the body would rather do than die.
There… some logical thought, and the mystic becomes… well, straightforward. You can stop feeling like some puppet and become a man with a purpose once again.
He put down the empty mug and stood up — purposefully.
‘I’m going to see how my men are,’ he announced.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Bashfullsson quickly.
‘I think I need no assistance,’ lied Vimes, as coolly as he could.
‘I’m sure you do not,’ said the dwarf. ‘But Captain Gud is a little nervous.’
‘He’ll be a lot nervous if I don’t like what I see,’ said Vimes.
‘Yes. That’s why I’m coming with you,’ said Bashfullsson.
Vimes set off across the cavern a little faster than he felt was comfortable. The grag kept up by skipping at every other step.
‘Don’t think you know me, Mr Bashfullsson,’ Vimes growled. ‘Don’t think I took pity on those bastards. Don’t think I was merciful. You just don’t kill the helpless. You just don’t.’
‘The dark guards seemed to have no trouble with the prospect,’ said Bashfullsson.
‘Exactly!’ said Vimes. ‘By the way, Mr Bashfullsson, what kind of dwarf doesn’t carry an axe?’
‘Well, as a grag, my first resort, of course, is to my voice,’ said the grag. ‘The axe is nothing without the hand, and the hand is nothing without the mind. I’ve trained myself to think about axes.’
‘Sounds mystical to me,’ said Vimes.
‘I suppose it would,’ said Bashfullsson. ‘Ah, here we are.’
Here was the area that the newly arrived dwarfs had occupied. Very military, Vimes thought. A defensive square. You’re not sure who your enemies are. And neither am I.
The nearest dwarf regarded him with that slightly defiant, slightly uneasy look he’d come to recognize. Captain Gud straightened up.
Vimes looked over the dwarf’s shoulder, which was not hard to do. There were Nobby and Fred Colon, and both of the trolls, and even Cheery, all sitting in a huddle.
‘Are my men under arrest, captain?’ he said.
‘My orders are to detain everyone found here,’ said the captain. Vimes admired the flatness of the response. It meant: I am not interested in a dialogue at this time.
‘What is your authority here, captain?’ he said.
‘My authority comes threefold: the Low King, mining law and sixty armed dwarfs,’ said Gud.
Bugger, thought Vimes. I forgot about mining law. This is a problem. I think I need to delegate. A good commander learns to delegate. Therefore I will delegate this problem to Captain Gud.
‘That was a good answer, captain,’ he said, ‘and I respect it.’ In one movement he pushed past and headed for the watchmen. He stopped dead when he heard the sound of drawn metal behind him, raised his hands, and said, ‘Grag Bashfullsson, will you explain matters to the captain? I have stepped into his custody, not out of it. And this is not the time or place for rash action.’