There was not, on the whole, a lot of geological excitement. The sinking of continents is usually accompanied by volcanoes, earthquakes and armadas of little boats containing old men anxious to build pyramids and mystic stone circles in some new land where being the possessor of genuine ancient occult wisdom might be expected to attract girls. But the rising of this one caused barely a ripple in the purely physical scheme of things. It more or less sidled back, like a cat who's been away for a few days and knows you've been worrying.

Klatch's embassador is visiting Ankh-Morpork, and the wizards at Unseen University are giving him an honourary degree. There is going to be a parade - and guess who has to lead it? Yup, Sir Samuel Vimes, Commander of the Watch and, as it says on his ceremonial truncheon, "Keeper of the Kinge's Piece". Er - meaning peace, of course.

Klatch is the very large Empire across the Circle Sea, and it's not particularly friendly towards Ankh-Morpork. Things start to come to a head when the island of Leshp rises from the waves and fishermen from both countries try to claim it. Tensions between tiny Ankh-Morpork and enormous Klatch are starting to rise, and the gung-ho, jingoistic upper classes are keen to get out into the desert and start bashing furrenners. They don't seem to care that the military commanders are incompetent dolts who couldn't general a bun-fight in a ...seamstress' parlour, the uniforms are so brightly-coloured they'd stand out like the proverbial sore thumb in arid Klatch, and the island that they want to fight over is minute and has no source of fresh water.

There was a crash somewhere ahead of them, and a scream. Coppers learn to be good at screams. There was to the connoisseur a world of difference between "I'm drunk and I've just trodden on my fingers and I can't get up!" and "Look out! He's got a knife!"

All in all, a satire levelled at politicians and the war machine, and the author comes out with all his guns blazing. Reading this while watching the Iraqi War developing on TV was quite an education. It has been said that history is simply a pre-repetition of the future, as it were (if you've read Interesting Times you'll know what I'm on about), and only by studying the mistakes of the past can we avoid them in future. Somebody please make this book compulsory reading in U.S government circles. I think it makes some important points about the futility of war. Young men die while old men talk, sort of thing. And the idea that prejudice is always a dirty word (especially when it's inter-species).

Thoroughly enjoyable all round. Four thumbs up...

The ship screamed in every joint as it hit the waves again.
   "We're coming right out of the water!" wept Jenkins. "We're just going from crest to crest!"
   "Good! It won't be so bumpy!" shouted Vimes. "We should pick up speed again now we've got those bedsteads over the side! Does it often rain bedsteads out here?"
   "What do you think?"
   "I'm not a nautical man!"
   "No, rains of bedsteads are not an everyday occurrence! Nor are coal scuttles!" Jenkins added as something black crashed off the side. "We just get the normal stuff, you know! Rain! Snow! Sleet! Fish!"
   Another squall blew across the bounding boat and the deck was suddenly covered with flashing silver.
   "Back to fish!" shouted Vimes. "That's better, surely?"
   "No! It's worse!"
   "Why!"
Jenkins held up a tin.
   "These are sardines!"