A/N PLEASE REVIEW DISCLAIMERS IN CHAPTER ONE.
WHEN THE SACRED GINMILL CLOSES
They walked for some time, back over the Brass Bridge, and to a nondescript building just down from the Watch house. There was no sign to advertise the pub for custom; this was a place you either knew about, or were invited to, but didn't make the mistake of knocking on unannounced.
As they entered the dingy bar-room, Harry noticed the device on the door, barely legible through the grime: `The Sacred Ginmill.'
"It used to be called the `Mended Drum,'" said Carrot, "but the publican changed it a few years back when he became an Omnian."
As Harry's eyes adjusted to the low candles and the blue haze of smoke from a dozen reeking pipes, he finally found Commander Sir Samuel Vimes, sitting between Angua and a dwarf. He was smoking his cigar and drinking a cup of coffee. Angua was drinking beer from a porcelain tankard that bore her name. The dwarf had a glass of what appeared to be sherry.
"So in any event, sir, I'm not sure what else we could have done. In total there were 12 of them, all heavily armed. When Potter took out the one on Carrot, they started to flee. Had Dorfl not gotten hit with the shot from the mangonel, I think we could have managed them," she was saying. "At least we're all alive to fight another day, sir."
Carrot and Potter sat down, and following Carrot's beckoning arm, the publican came over with two mugs of mead. The two Watchmen joined their colleagues, but were careful to say nothing. They both looked at Vimes' face.
Vimes did not look pleased. In fact, from Harry's long experience in dealing with displeased superior officers, he had the expression of barely maintaining his ability to be calm. But he did not shout, yell, or do any such thing; he merely nodded.
"Cheery?" he said quietly.
The dwarf nodded.
"Well, it's like your hunch, sir. There were definitely a lot of Igors there, but I don't know exactly how many," she said. "We managed to get out of Doughnut that they had been experimenting on several dead horses, but he passed out before he could tell us how many. Based on the results from the Quirm 100, and the amount of blood and ichor I found, I'd say at least six horses.
"And there's something else; there was a power source, there, too. I don't know what it was, but it was heavy, and hooked up with copper wire. If I didn't know better, sir, I'd say it was necromancy. But why would anyone want to revive a dead horse? Surely once they've been beaten that's enough."
Why indeed, thought Vimes. If Albus were here I would ask him. He sighed.
Harry stared at Vimes' face. The Watch commander looked about a thousand years old.
"Now do you two want to tell me how you screwed everything up?" he said quietly. He did not make eye contact.
Hugely bad sign, Harry said, and swallowed.
"It's my fault, sir," Harry said, expressionless.
"Indeed," Vimes said. "Care to elaborate?"
"Sir, I've been in Ankh-Morpork less than 24 hours. I've no idea how things work here," Harry said. "I've used two spells which normally should have an effective range of about 20 feet, and an effective duration of less than one minute.
"For some reason, everything is concentrated. I've tried to tone down the power I'm drawing, but it only seems to be concentrated. My over-use of power tonight allowed the culprits to escape. The mission failed because of me," Harry said.
"I think that's a little strong," Carrot said. "The mission failed because we didn't have enough manpower, not that we ever do. Had we had Dorfl on our side, we would have that group of Grave Gourmands back in the Watch House at this very minute. We didn't think they'd have a siege weapon. They are clearly more organized than we first appreciated."
Vimes just nodded, and finally made eye contact with Potter. Harry saw his look of deep distaste.
"I went to see someone this afternoon, Potter," he said. "Apparently Albus Dumbledore did die more than five years ago."
Harry just stared out him.
"That's a dam' shame, Potter, because I don't know if we're up to solving this problem without him," Vimes said evenly.
"Come, Commander,' Carrot said. "We've solved lots of serious incidents without undue outside interference."
"Very few have had these overtones, Captain," Vimes replied.
He turned back to Harry. "As of this moment, Potter, I am ordering you to not use any of the magic you have learned up this point in your life, or to use any of your magic devices from … home. None. Not one. Clearly they are too powerful, and I don't want to lose my officers as a result of your unfriendly fire. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"
"Yes sir," Harry said, quietly.
"Crystal clear?" Vimes persisted.
"Sir, yes sir," Harry said. "So long as I am part of the Watch, I will not use any of my magic from home, sir."
"Learning to be a Watchman, Harry, is a tough thing. You're going to need to be in touch with your mugg- your human side, do you understand me?" Vimes said.
He almost said muggle, Harry thought. He knows a lot about Earth. I need to keep up the pretence, and become Discworldian.
"Yes sir," Harry said.
"Carrot and Angua will help, but overall, Potter, you're going to have to learn to common sense, not magic. I don't use magic in my force, Potter. What are we supposed to do? Magic weapons out of thug's hands, and hope their fingers remain attached? Magic people into being good? No. I can see where that goes. We don't magic out the truth here, Potter, we investigate, probe, question, and ultimately prod buttock.
"You don't need magic to learn things from a crime scene, as Sergeant Littlebottom here will teach you. I'll assign you to work with her a bit, since as a forensic alchemist she picks up more things at the crime scene than the other officers," Vimes said. "Find clues, fit the jigsaw together … that's what being a copper is all about, Potter.
"But, and please let me make this clear, Potter, you'd better learn to be a Watchman fast. Because we don't have the luxury of time to figure out how you might help with your magic," Vimes continued. "If things all go to hell, Potter, believe you me I will be happy in throwing you to the demons from the dungeon dimensions."
"Understood, sir. Crystal, sir," Harry said miserably.
"Ok, Potter, that's enough, then, for now," Vimes said. "Anything else, Carrot?"
There was an uncomfortably long pause, as Carrot unaccountably couldn't find anything else to say.
"Right, then, if it's all the same to you, sir, I'll be off to get some sleep," Harry said. "Between the trip here and the events of earlier yesterday, I'm a bit exhausted."
"Right, Potter. You go on, then," Vimes said.
"Shall I accompany you, Harry?" Carrot asked.
"No, I'll make it," he said. "But I guess I need a key …"
Carrot gave him his key. Harry smiled wanly. "See you tomorrow," he said.
After he left, Angua stood up. "If it's all the same to you, sir, I'll just make sure he gets home." She walked to the door, and with a clink, took off her armor. This was apparently a well-understood tactic, because Sgt. Colon immediately picked it up and placed it on a hook.
Less than twenty minutes later, she walked back in the door, and picked up her armor, and tied the breastplate on. She walked back to the table. "He made it fine," she said. "Now, sir, with all due respect, would you please tell us where he's really from?"
"I thought we established that," Carrot said. "He's from Lon-, on the Counterweight Continent. Although I admit I've never heard of Lon-."
"Please. He's nothing of the sort," snorted Angua.
"Are you certain?" Carrot asked.
"You calling this nose wrong?" Angua retorted. "I got a good sniff of him at the Temple of Monolith earlier. He's no more from the Counterweight Continent than I'm from Four Ecks. Now, sir, please?"
Vimes looked into his cup. "You're quite correct, Angua. He's not originally from the Counterweight Continent," he said quietly.
"Yes, sir," she said expectantly. Even Carrot looked interested.
"Hurry up, please, it's time."
"However, and as far as the two of you are concerned, he is from the Counterweight Continent, unless he chooses to tell you otherwise. Got it?" Vimes said, in a bored tone.
"Sir, I really would appreciate a bit more than that," she said. "What I smelled on him was…" she shuddered.
"What?" Vimes prompted.
"He reeks of magic. It's all over him. He's … just not all human, sir. No wizard I've ever smelled is even close to as powerful as he is. And he doesn't smell like anyplace I've ever smelled. A mix of octarine, olive green and sky blue. And maybe a just a faint smidgen of a nutty Edam cheese."
Vimes continued to look at his coffee.
"Sir?" she said, realizing she wasn't going to get an answer she wanted.
"I've already said, Sergeant, what I intend to say on the matter," Vimes said.
"Yes, sir," Angua sighed.
Vimes continued to stare into his coffee. "In one way or another, Potter's the key to all this," he said. "The dam' thing is, Potter either doesn't realize it, or is having trouble finding out how he's the key. We've got to keep him alive, and yet at the same time, a large part of me wants to dump him in the Ankh at high tide to wash our hands of the matter."
"Oh, you wouldn't want to do that, sir," Carrot said. "After all, he could just walk away, and in any event, he wouldn't get very clean that way."
Vimes looked sharply at Carrot for a second, then looked away. "We'll have a squad meeting tomorrow, and go over the maps again," he said. "Then we'll check with the Cable Street Particulars and see if they've had any look at the other temples."
"Hurry up, please, it's time."
"Should I go to Cable Street now, sir, and bring their reports to the meeting tomorrow?" Carrot asked.
"Hurry up, please, it's time."
"No, let's all go home and get a decent night's sleep, and we'll send a runner to Cable Street before the squad meeting," Vimes said. "Corporal Pessimal will deal with the paperwork and arrange the meeting agenda as normal, and he can report to me if he believes we should change tactics. Actually, I don't think I want to read any reports before I set into motion my plan for tomorrow night."
"Why sir? What are we going to do tomorrow night?" Carrot asked.
"The same thing we do every night, Carrot. Try to prevent people from taking over the world."
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