Part 23 (1/2)

Gaspode had confused recollections of the rest of that night. The pack moved fast, and he realized that most of them were running ahead of Carrot, to flatten down the snow.

It wasn't flat enough for Gaspode. Eventually a wolf picked him up by the scruff of the neck and carried him bodily, while making m.u.f.fled comments about the foul taste.

The snow stopped after a while and there was a slip of moonlight behind the clouds.

And all around, near and far, was the howl. Occasionally the pack would stop, in a clearing or on the crisp white brow of a hill, and join in.

Gaspode limped to Angua while the cries went up around them.

”What's this for?” he said.

”Politics,” said Angua. ”Negotiation. We're crossing territories.”

Gaspode glanced at Gavin. He hadn't joined in the howl but sat a little way off, regally dividing his attention between Carrot and the pack.

”He has to ask permission?” he said. has to ask permission?” he said.

”He has to make sure they'll let me through.”

”Oh. That's giving him problems?”

”None that he can't bite through.”

”Oh. Er...is the howl saying anything about me me?”

”'Small, horrible, smelly dog.'”

”Ah, right.”

They set off again a few minutes later, down a long snow-crusted slope in the moonlight toward the forest again, and Gaspode saw shadows angling fast across the snowfield toward them. For a moment he was flanked by two packs, the old and the new, and then their original escort dropped away.

So we've got a new honor guard, he thought, as he ran in the center of a wall of blurred gray legs. Wolves we haven't met before. I just hope the howl added ”doesn't taste nice.”

Then Carrot fell over in the snow. It was a moment before he pushed himself up again.

The wolves circled uncertainly, occasionally glancing at Gavin. Gaspode caught up with Carrot, jumping awkwardly through the snow.

”You all right?”

”Hard...to...run...”

”I don't want to, you know, worry you or anything,” whined Gaspode, ”but we're not exactly among friends here, know what I mean? Our Gavin isn't going to win the prize of the wolf with the waggiest tail anywhere. anywhere.”

”When did he last sleep?” Angua demanded, pus.h.i.+ng her way through the wolves.

”Dunno, really,” said Gaspode. ”We've been moving pretty fast the last few days...”

”No sleep, no food and no proper clothing,” snarled Angua. ”Idiot!”

There was growling and whining from some of the wolves around Gavin. Gaspode sat down by Carrot's head and watched as Angua...argued.

He couldn't speak pure wolf and, besides, gesture and body language played a far greater part than it did in canine. But you didn't have to be bright to see that things weren't going well. There was def'nitly a lot of Atmosphere in the atmosphere. And Gaspode had a feeling that, if things went all pear-shaped in a hurry, one small dog had all the survival chances of a chocolate kettle on a very hot stove.

There was a lot of whining and growling. One wolf-Gaspode mentally named him Awkward-was not happy. It looked as though a number of wolves were agreeing with him. One of them bared its teeth at Angua.

Then Gavin stood up. He shook some snowflakes off his coat, looked around in an offhand fas.h.i.+on, and padded toward Awkward.

Gaspode felt every hair on his body stand on end.

The other wolves crouched back. Gavin ignored them. When he was a few feet away from Awkward, he put his head on one side and said ”Hrurrrm?”

It was almost a pleasant noise. But right down inside Gaspode's bones it bounced a harmonic which said: At this point, we could go two ways. There is the easy way, and that is very easy.

You'll never know know about the hard way. about the hard way.

Awkward held eye contact for a while, and then looked down.

Gavin snarled something. Half a dozen of the wolves, led by Angua, loped off toward the forest.

They returned twenty minutes later. Angua was human again-at least, Gaspode corrected himself, human shaped shaped-and the wolves were harnessed to a big dog sled.

”Borrowed it from a man in the village over the hill,” she said, as it slid to a halt by Carrot.

”Nice of him,” said Gaspode, and decided not to pursue the subject. ”I'm surprised to see wolves in harness, though.”

”Well, this was was the easy way,” said Angua. the easy way,” said Angua.

It's odd, Gaspode mused, as he lay in the sled alongside the slumbering Carrot. He was so int'rested when b.u.m talked about the howl and how it could send messages right up into the mountains. If I was a suspicious dog, I'd wonder if he knew knew that she'd come back for him if he was really in trouble, if he decided to gamble everything on it... that she'd come back for him if he was really in trouble, if he decided to gamble everything on it...

He poked his head out from under the blanket. Snow stung his eyes. Running alongside the sled, only a few feet away from Carrot, and glowing silver in the moonlight, was Gavin.

This is me, thought Gaspode, stuck between the humans and the wolves. It's a dog's life.

This is the life, thought Acting Captain Colon. Hardly any paperwork was coming up here now, and by dint of much effort he'd entirely cleared the backlog. It was a lot quieter, too.

When Vimes was here-and Fred Colon suddenly found himself thinking the word ”Vimes” without prefixing it with the word ”Mister”-the main office was full of so much noise and bustle you could hardly hear yourself speak. Completely inefficient, that was. How could anyone hope to get anything done?

He counted the sugar again. Twenty-nine. But he'd had two in his tea, so that was all right. Toughness was paying off.

Colon went and opened his door a fraction so that he could just see down into the office. It was amazing how you could catch them out that way.

Quiet. And neat, too. Every desk was clear. Much better than the mess you used to get.

He went back to the desk and counted the sugar lumps.