He hadn’t even seen the lad close to. He looked personable enough, not exactly a great thinker, but definitely the kind of profile you wouldn’t mind seeing on your small change.
Mind you, after killing the dragon he could have been a cross-eyed goblin for all that it mattered. The mob had borne him in triumph to the Patrician’s palace.
Lord Vetinari had been locked up in his own dungeons. He hadn’t put up much fight, apparently. Just smiled at everyone and went quietly.
What a happy coincidence for the city that, just when it needed a champion to kill the dragon, a king came forth.
Vimes turned this thought over for a while. Then he turned it back to front. He picked up the quill and wrote:
Itym: What a happy chance it be, for a lad that would be Kinge, that there be a Draggon to slae to prove beyond doubt his boney fiddes.
One would think this could have come straight from a book on The Rise of Totalitarianism...
And I feel sorry for the poor instrumentalised dragons.