Discworld 30 - Monstrous Regiment (27 page)

BOOK: Discworld 30 - Monstrous Regiment
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Discworld 30 - Monstrous Regiment

Discworld 30 - Monstrous Regiment

 
 
  
‘Are you sure?’ said Blouse.
‘Forty-five, sir. The hardships of a soldier’s life show up onna face, sir.’
‘Even so—’
‘Ah, I recall a couple of extra birthdays what had slipped my memory, sir. I’m forty-seven,
sir.’ Still no rumble of celestial disapproval, Polly noticed.
‘Er . . . yes. Very well. After all, you should know, eh, sergeant? I shall amend it.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Just like General Froc did. And Major Galosh. And Colonel Legin, sergeant.’
‘Yessir. Clerical error has followed me around all the days of my life, sir. I’ve been a
martyr to it.’ Jackrum stood back. ‘There we are, sir. Face as smooth as a baby’s bum.
Smooth is how things should be, eh, sir? I’ve always liked things smooth.’
They watched Lieutenant Blouse walk down through the trees to the path. They watched
him join the erratic, straggling line of women on their way to the door. They listened for
screams, and heard none.
‘D-does any woman sway that much?’ said Wazzer, peering through the bushes.
‘Not legally, I think,’ said Polly, scanning the keep with the lieutenant’s telescope. ‘Well,
we’ll just have to wait for some sort of signal that he’s okay.’
Somewhere overhead, a buzzard screamed.
‘No, they’ll have got him the moment he walked through the door,’ said Maladict. ‘Bet on
it.’
They left Jade on watch. With her paint scraped off, a troll could settle into rocky scenery
so well that no one was likely to notice her before they walked into her, and by the time
they’d walked into her it was too late.
They made their way back through the woods, and had almost reached the ruined
farmhouse when it happened.
‘You are holding up well, Mal,’ said Polly. ‘Maybe those acorns did the trick? You haven’t
mentioned coffee at all—’
Maladict stopped, and turned slowly. To Polly’s horror, his face was suddenly shiny with
sweat. ‘You had to bring it up, didn’t you?’ he said hoarsely. ‘Oh, please, no! I was holding
on so tight! I was doing so well!’ He fell forward, but managed to get on to his hands and
knees. Then he raised his head, and his eyes were glowing red. ‘Fetch . . . Igorina,’ he
muttered, gasping. ‘I know she’s ready for this . . .’
. . . whopwhopwhop . . .
Wazzer was praying furiously. Maladict tried to stand up again, fell back on to his knees,
and raised his arms imploringly to the sky.
‘Get out of here while you can,’ he mumbled, as his teeth visibly lengthened. ‘I’ll—’
There was a shadow, a sense of movement, and the vampire slumped forward, stunned by
an eight-ounce sack of coffee beans that had dropped out of a clear sky.

 
 
  
Polly arrived at the farmhouse carrying Maladict on her shoulder. She made him as
comfortable as possible on some ancient straw, and the squad consulted.
‘Do you think we ought to try to take the sack out of his mouth?’ said Shufti nervously.
‘I tried, but he fights,’ said Polly.
‘But he’s unconscious!’
‘He still won’t let go of it! He’s sucking it. I’d swear he was out cold, but he just sort of
reached out and grabbed it and bit! It dropped out of a clear sky!’
Tonker stared at Wazzer. ‘The Duchess does room service?’ she said.
‘No! She says she d-didn’t!’
‘You get freak rainth of fish,’ said Igorina, kneeling down by Maladict. ‘I suppose it’s
possible that a whirlwind tore through a coffee plantation, and then possibly a lightning
discharge in the upper ether—’
‘At what point did it blow through a factory making small coffee sacks?’ said Tonker.
‘Ones with a jolly turbaned man printed on them apparently saying “Klatchian Rare Roasted!
When a Pickaxe is Not Enough!” ’
‘Well, if you’re going to put it like that, it does theem a little far-fetched . . .’ Igorina stood
up, adding, ‘I think he’ll be fine when he wakes up. Possibly a little talkative, though.’
‘Okay, lads, get some rest,’ said Jackrum, coming in. ‘Let’s give the rupert a couple of
hours to muck things up, and then we can nip around the valley and slip down and join the
rest of the army. Good grub and proper blankets to sleep on, hey? That’s the ticket!’
‘We don’t know he’s going to mess up, sarge,’ said Polly.
‘Oh, yeah, right, maybe he’ll have married the commander of the garrison by now, eh?
Stranger things have happened, although I can’t remember when. Perks and Manickle, you’re
on watch. The rest of you, get some shut-eye.’
A Zlobenian patrol went past in the distance. Polly watched it out of sight. It was turning
into a fine day, warm with a bit of wind. Good drying weather. A good day to be a
washerwoman. And maybe Blouse would succeed. Maybe all the guards were blind.
‘Pol?’ Shufti whispered.
‘Yes, Shuf . . . Look, what was your name back in the world?’
‘Betty. It’s Betty. Er . . . most of the Ins-and-Outs are in the keep, right?’
‘Apparently.’
‘So that’s where I’m most likely to find my fiance, yes?’
We’ve talked about that, Polly thought. ‘Could be.’
‘Might be quite hard if there’s a lot of men . . .’ said Betty, a woman with something on her
mind.
‘Well, if we get as far as the prisoners and ask around they’ll be bound to know his name.
What is it?’
‘Johnny,’ whispered Betty.

 
 
  
‘Just Johnny?’ said Polly.
‘Er . . . yes . . .’
Ah, Polly thought. I think I know how this goes . . .
‘He’s got fair hair and blue eyes, and I think he had one gold earring, and . . . and a funny-
shaped . . . what d’you call it? Oh, yes . . . sort of carbuncle on his, his . . . bottom.’
‘Right. Right.’
‘Um . . . now I come to tell someone, it doesn’t sound very helpful, I suppose.’
Not unless we’re in a position to have a very unusual identity parade, Polly thought, and I
can’t imagine what position that would be.
‘Not as such,’ she said.
‘He said everyone in the regiment knows him,’ Betty went on.
‘Right? Oh, good,’ said Polly. ‘All we need to do is ask.’
‘And, er, we were going to break a sixpence in half, you know, like they do, so that if he
had to be away for years we’d be sure we’d got the right person ‘cos the two halves would
match . . .’
‘Oh, that would be a bit of a help, I expect.’
‘Well, yes, except, well, I gave him the sixpence, and he said he’d get the blacksmith to
break it in his vice, and he went off and, er, I think he got called away . . .’ Betty’s voice
trailed off.
Well, that was about what I expected, Polly thought.
‘I expect you think I’m a silly girl,’ mumbled Betty after a while.
‘A foolish woman, perhaps,’ said Polly, turning to watch the landscape intently.
‘It was, you know a whirlwind romance . . .’
‘Sounds more like a hurricane to me,’ said Polly, and Betty grinned.
‘Yes, it was a bit like that,’ she said.
Polly matched smile for smile. ‘Betty, it’s daft to talk about silly and foolish at a time like
this,’ she said. ‘Where are we going to look for wisdom? To a god who hates jigsaws and the
colour blue? A fossil government led by a picture? An army that thinks stubbornness is the
same as courage? Compared to all that, all you’ve got wrong is timing!’
‘I don’t want to end up in the school, though,’ said Betty. ‘They took away a girl from our
village and she was kicking and screaming—’
‘Then fight them!’ said Polly. ‘You’ve got a sword now, haven’t you? Fight back!’ She
saw the look of horror on Betty’s face, and remembered that this wasn’t Tonker she was
talking to. ‘Look, if we get out of this alive we’ll talk to the colonel. He might be able to
help.’ After all, perhaps your boy really was called Johnny, she thought, perhaps he really
was called away suddenly. Hope is a wonderful thing. She went on: ‘If we get out of this
there’s going to be no school and no beatings. Not for you or any of us. Not if we’ve got
brains. Not if we’re smart.’
Betty was almost in tears, but she managed another smile. ‘And Wazzer’s talking to the
Duchess, too. She’ll fix things!’

 
 
  
Polly stared out at the bright, unchanging landscape, empty except for a buzzard making
wide circles in the forbidden blue. I’m not sure about that,’ she said. ‘But someone up there
likes us.’
Twilight was brief at this time of year. There had been no sign from Blouse.
‘I watched until I couldn’t see,’ said Jade, as they sat and watched Shufti make stew.
‘Some of der women dat came out was ones I saw goin’ in dis mornin’, too.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Jackrum.
‘We might be fick, sarge,’ said Jade, looking hurt, ‘but trolls have great . . . er . . . vis-you-
all ack-you-it-tee. More women was going in dis evenin’, too.’
‘Night shift,’ said Tonker.
‘Oh well, he tried,’ said Jackrum. ‘With any luck he’s in a nice warm cell and they’ve
found him a pair of long pants. Get your kit together, lads. We’ll creep around and into our
lines and you’ll be snug in bed by midnight.’
Polly remembered what she’d said, hours ago, about fighting. You had to start somewhere.
‘I want to try the keep again,’ she said.
‘You do, Perks, do you?’ said Jackrum, with mock interest.
‘My brother’s in there.’
‘Nice safe place for him, then.’
‘He might be injured. I vote for the keep.’
‘Vote?’ said Jackrum. ‘My word, that’s a new one. Voting in the army? Who wants to get
killed, lads, let’s have a show of hands? Knock it off, Perks.’
‘I’m going to try it, sarge!’
‘You are not!’
‘Try and stop me!’ The words came out before she could stop them. And that’s it, she
thought, the shout heard round the world. No going back after this. I’ve run off the edge of
the cliff and it’s all downhill from here.
Jackrum’s expression stayed blank for a second or two, and then he said, ‘Anyone else
voting for the keep?’
Polly looked at Shufti, who blushed.
But: ‘We are,’ said Tonker. Beside her, Lofty struck a match, and held it so that it flared.
That was pretty much a speech from Lofty.
‘Why, pray?’ said Jackrum.
‘We don’t want to sit around in a swamp,’ said Tonker. ‘And we don’t like being ordered
around.’
‘Should have thought of that before you joined an army, lad!’
‘We aren’t lads, sarge.’
‘You are if I says you are!’

 
 
  
Well, it’s not as though I wasn’t expecting it, Polly thought. I’ve played this out enough
times in my head. Here goes . . . ‘All right, sarge,’ she said. ‘It’s time to have it out, here and
now.’
‘Ooo, er,’ said Jackrum theatrically, fishing his screwed-up paper of tobacco out of his
pocket.
‘What?’
Jackrum sat down on the remains of a wall. ‘Just injecting a little sauciness into the
conversation,’ he said. ‘Carry on, Perks. Have your say. I thought it’d come to this.’
‘You know I’m a woman, sarge,’ said Polly.
‘Yup. I wouldn’t trust you to shave cheese.’
The squad stared. Jackrum opened his big knife and examined the chewing tobacco as
though it was the most interesting thing present.
‘So . . . er . . . what are you going to do about it?’ said Polly, feeling derailed.
‘Dunno. Can’t do anything, can I? You were born like it.’
‘You didn’t tell Blouse!’ said Polly.
‘Nope.’
Polly wanted to knock the wretched tobacco out of the sergeant’s hand. Now that she had
got over the surprise, there was something offensive about this lack of reaction. It was like
someone opening a door just before your battering ram hit it; suddenly you were running
through the building and not certain how to stop.
‘Well, we’re all women, sarge,’ said Tonker. ‘How about that?’
Jackrum sawed at the tobacco.
‘So?’ he said, still paying attention to the job in hand.
‘What?’ said Polly.
‘Think no one else ever tried it? Think you’re the only ones? Think your ol’ sarge is deaf,
blind and stupid? You could fool one another and anyone can fool a rupert, but you can’t fool
Jackrum. Weren’t sure about Maladict and still ain’t, because with a vampire, who knows?
And not sure about you, Carborundum, because with a troll, who cares? No offence.’
‘None taken,’ rumbled Jade. She caught Polly’s eye and shrugged.
‘Not so good at reading the signs, not knowing many trolls,’ said the sergeant. ‘I had you
down pat in the first minute, Ozz. Something in the eyes, I reckon. Like . . . you were
watching to see how good you were.’
Oh hell, Polly thought. ‘Er . . . do I have a pair of socks belonging to you?’
‘Yep. Well washed, I might add.’
‘You’ll have them back right now!’ said Polly, grabbing for her belt.
‘In your own time, Perks, in your own time, no rush,’ said Jackrum, raising a hand. ‘Well
washed, please.’
‘Why, sarge?’ said Tonker. ‘Why didn’t you give us away? You could’ve given us away
any time!’

 
 
  
Jackrum slewed his wad from cheek to cheek and sat chewing for a while, staring at
nothing.
‘No, you ain’t the first,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen a few. Mostly by themselves, always frightened
. . . and mostly they didn’t last long. But one or two of them were bonny soldiers, very bonny
soldiers indeed. So I looked at you lot and I thought to myself, well now, I thought, I wonder
how they’ll do when they find out they’re not alone? You know about lions?’ They nodded.
‘Well, the lion is a big ol’ coward, mostly. If you want trouble, you want to tangle with the
lioness. They’re killers, and they hunt together. It’s the same everywhere. If you want big
grief, look to the ladies. Even with insects, right? There’s a kind of beetle where she bites his
head off right while he’s exercisin’ his conjugals, and that’s what I call serious grief. On the
other hand, from what I heard he carries on regardless, so maybe it’s not the same for
beetles.’
He looked around at their blank expressions. ‘No?’ he said. ‘Well, maybe I thought, a
whole bunch of girls all at once, that’s . . . strange. Maybe there’s a reason.’ Polly saw him
glance briefly at Wazzer. ‘Anyway, I wasn’t goin’ to shame you all in front of a little toad
like Strappi, and then there was all that business in Plotz, and then, well, we was gallopin’, as
it were, caught up in things with no time to get off. You did well, lads. Very well. Shaped up
like good ‘uns.’
‘I’m going into the keep,’ said Polly.
‘Oh, don’t worry about the rupert,’ said Jackrum. ‘Probably he’s enjoying a nice bowl of
scubbo right now. He went to a school for young gentlemen, so prison will be just like old
times.’
‘We’re still going, sarge. Sorry,’ said Polly.
‘Oh, don’t say sorry, Perks, you were doing well up ‘til then,’ said Jackrum bitterly.
Shufti stood up. ‘I’m going too,’ she said. ‘I think my . . . fiance is in there.’
‘I have to go,’ said Wazzer. ‘The Duchess guides my steps.’
‘I’ll go, then,’ said Igorina. ‘I’m probably going to be needed.’
‘I shouldn’t fink I could get by as a washerwoman,’ rumbled Jade. ‘I’ll stay here and watch
over Mal. Hah, if he’s still after blood when he wakes up he’s gonna have blunt teeth!’
They looked at one another in silence, embarrassed but defiant. Then there was the sound
of someone clapping, slowly.
‘Oh, very nice,’ said Jackrum. ‘A band of brothers, eh? Sorry . . . sisters. Oh dear, oh dear.
Look, Blouse was a fool. It was prob’ly all them books. He read all that stuff about it being a
noble thing to die for your country, I expect. I was never that keen on readin’, but I know the
job is making some other poor devil die for his.’
He slewed his black tobacco from side to side. ‘I wanted you to be safe, lads. Down in the
press of men, I reckoned I could get you through this, no matter how many friends the Prince
has sent after you. I look at you lads, and I think: you poor boys, you don’t know nothin’
about war. What you goin’ to do? Tonker, you are a crack shot, but after one shot who’s
backing you up while you reload? Perks, you know a trick or two, but the blokes in the castle
will maybe know a trick or five. You’re a good cook, Shufti; too bad it’s going to be too hot
in there. Will the Duchess turn aside arrows, Wazzer?’
‘Yes. She will.’

BOOK: Discworld 30 - Monstrous Regiment
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