THERE’S A WEREWOLF WITH PRE-LUNAR TENSION IN ANKH-MORPORK. AND A DWARF WITH ATTITUDE AND A GOLEM WHO’S BEGUN TO THINK FOR ITSELF. But for Commander Vimes, Head of Ankh-Morpork City Watch, that’s only the start… There’s treason in the air. A crime has happened. He’s not only got to find out whodunit, but howdunit too. He’s not even sure what they dun. But soon as he knows what the questions are, he’s going to want some answers.

DISCWORLD GOES TO WAR, WITH ARMIES OF SARDINES, WARRIORS, FISHERMEN, SQUID AND AT LEAST ONE VERY CAMP FOLLOWER. As two armies march, Commander Vimes of Ankh-Morpork City Watch faces unpleasant foes who are out to get him… and that’s just the people on his side. The enemy might be even worse. Jingo, the 21st in Terry Pratchett’s phenomenally successful Discworld series, makes the World Cup look like a friendly five-a-side.

They say that diplomacy is a gentle art. That mastering it is a lifetime’s work. But you do need a certain inclination in that direction. It’s not something you can just pick up on the job. A few days ago Sam Vimes was a copper – an important copper, true – chief of police – but still, at his core, a policeman. But today he is an ambassador – to the mysterious, fat-rich country of Uberwald. Today, Sam Vimes is also a man on the run. He has nothing but his native wit and the gloomy trousers of Uncle Vanya (don’t ask). It’s snowing. It’s freezing. And if he can’t make it through the forest to civilization there’s going to be a terrible war. There are monsters on his trail. They’re bright. They’re fast. They’re werewolves – and they’re catching up.

‘Don’t put your trust in revolutions. They always come round again. That’s why they’re called revolutions. People die, and nothing changes.’ For a policeman, there can be few things worse than a serial killer loose in your city. Except, perhaps, a serial killer who targets coppers, and a city on the brink of bloody revolution. For Commander Sam Vimes, it all feels horribly familiar. He’s back in his own rough, tough past without even the clothes he was standing up in when the lightning struck. Living in the past is hard. But he must survive, because he has a job to do. He must track down the murderer and change the outcome of the rebellion. The problem is: if he wins, he’s got no wife, no child, no future… A Discworld Tale of One City, with a full chorus of street urchins, ladies of negotiable affection, rebels, secret policemen and other children of the revolution. Truth! Justice! Freedom! And a Hard-boiled Egg!

‘Some people would be asking: whose side are you on? If you’re not for us, you’re against us. Huh. If you’re not an apple, you’re a banana’. Koom Valley, the ancient battle where the trolls ambushed the dwarfs, or the dwarfs ambushed the trolls, was a long time ago. But if he doesn’t solve the murder of just one dwarf, Commander Sam Vimes of Ankh-Morpork City Watch is going to see it fought again, right outside his office. With his beloved Watch crumbling around him and war-drums sounding, he must unravel every clue, outwit every assassin and brave any darkness to find the solution. And darkness is following him. Oh . . . and at six o’clock every day, without fail, with no excuses, he must go home to read ‘Where’s My Cow?’, with all the right farmyard noises, to his little boy. There are some things you have to do.

This is the countryside, after all. Everyone sees where you go and you never know who is behind a hedge. And if you’re very unlucky, the person behind the hedge could have very unfriendly intentions. It may look idyllic, but the countryside isn’t all flowers and thatched cottages and bracing walks in your best tweed. Beneath the greenery lies a dark underbelly, and there’s something about rambling country houses that attracts dastardly plots and grisly murder. A challenge for any detective, but especially for one bred in the city who doesn’t understand the Way Things Are Done. In the countryside, people know their place, and everyone else’s place too, especially if it’s beneath their own. And they have some rather old fashioned ideas about people who are different from them.