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Guards! Guards! (Discworld, Book 8) by Terry Pratchett

By Terry Pratchett

Here there be dragons...and the denizens of Ankh-Morpork want one large firebreather could go back from whence it got here. lengthy believed extinct, a good specimen of draco nobilis ("noble dragon" if you don't comprehend italics) has seemed in Discworld's maximum urban. not just does this unwelcome customer have a foul behavior of charbroiling every thing in its course, in relatively brief order it's topped King (it is a noble dragon, after all...).

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He drew away from a gaunt-cheeked, rheumy-eyed old woman who was kneeling in the mud with her hands outstretched, wail­ ing in mindless misery. He peered curiously into alleys where groups of rag-wrapped men, women, and children huddled listlessly around pitiful fires, too weak and cold to pay him any mind. Two whores pushed aside ragged customers and gaped brazenly at the Prince. One of them, a buxom young girl with long curly hair grinned and wagged a finger at him. Aleksander laughed, and the girl blew him a kiss, lifted her skirt, and went back to her business.

It’s my fault that this city is filled with inbred imbeciles who can’t find their mouths with a spoon, but who dare spy on their Emperor’s son. And I am to accept it? You’re the one who keeps warning me of these Khelid, and now I’m taken to task for speaking my TRANSFORMATION 27 mind in private correspondence. ” My equanimity, already unsettled by Durgan’s warning, lay in ruins. “I’m as concerned about the Khelid as ever, Aleksander. But if you’re to be Emperor, you must think before you act. You mutilated the son of the oldest family in northern Azhakstan.

Except that the Fontezhi made a serious mistake. They sent their most ju­ nior dennissar, someone’s cousin’s nephew’s son, to appear before the Prince. ” the Prince snapped at the quaking, bewildered eighteen-year-old whose appearance had sent him into a froth. “Does the lord of the Fontezhi be­ lieve he is too important to appear at his Prince’s summons? ” “N . . no . . Your Highness. ” The downy-cheeked young man did not know when to keep his counsel. “And have the Fontezhi no messengers, no aides, no horses available to contact him?

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