“Ah, Detritus.” The troll saluted. “You’ve got your bow, I see. Treated you well, did they?”
“Dey called me a ficko troll,” said Detritus, darkly. “One of dem kicked me inna rocks.”
“Was it this one?”
“No.”
“But he is their captain,” said Vimes, stepping away from Tantony. “Sergeant, I order you: Shoot him down.”
In one movement the troll had the crossbow balanced on his shoulder and was sighting along the massive package of arrows. Tantony went pale.
“Well, go on,” said Vimes. “It was an order, Sergeant.”
Detritus lowered the bow.
“I ain’t dat fick, sir.”
“I gave you an order!”
“Den you can do wid that order what Boulder der Lintel did wid his bag of gravel, sir! Wid respect, o’course.”
Vimes walked across an d patted the shaking Tantony on his shoulder.
“Just making a point,” he said.
“However,” said Detritus, “if you can find der man dat kicked me inna rocks, I should be happy to give him a flick around der earhole. I know which one it was. He’s der one walkin’ wid der limp.”
– on following orders | Terry Pratchett, The Fifth Elephant
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