Monstrous Regiment

are rather fetching…”
    “Well, okay,” Tonker conceded. “But lisp a bit, will you? I know this is completely wrong, but now you look, oh, I don’t know…weird, I suppose.”
    “Okay, line up,” said Jackrum.
    He stood back and gave them a look of theatrical disdain. “Well, I’ve never seen such a lot of scrubb…washerwomen in all my life,” he said. “I wish you all the luck you’re bleedin’ well gonna need. There’ll be someone watching the door for you to come out, and that’s all I can promise. Private Perks, you’re acting, unpaid corporal on this one. I hope you’ve picked up one or two little lessons on our stroll. In and out, that’s what you should do. No famous last stands, please. When in doubt, kick ’em in the nadgers and scarper. Mind you, if you frighten them like you frighten me, you should have no trouble.”
    “Are you sure you won’t join us, Sarge?” said Tonker, still trying not to laugh.
    “No, lad. You won’t get me in skirts. Everyone has their place, right? The place where they draw the line? Well, that’s mine. I’m pretty steeped in sin, one way and another, but Jackrum always shows his colors. I’m an old soldier. I’ll fight like a soldier does, in the ranks, on the battlefield. Besides, if I went in there simpering in petticoats I’d never hear the end of it.”
    “The Duchess says there is a d-different path for Sergeant Jackrum,” said Wazzer.
    “And I don’t know if you don’t frighten me worst of all, Private Goom,” said Jackrum. He hitched up his equatorial belt. “You’re right, though. When you’re inside I shall nip down, nice and quiet, and slip into our lines. If I can’t raise a little diversionary attack, my name’s not Sergeant Jackrum. And since it is Sergeant Jackrum, that proves it. Hah, there’s plenty of men in this man’s army that owe me a favor,” he gave a little sniff and added, “or wouldn’t say no to my face. And plenty of likely lads who’ll want to tell their grandchildren they fought alongside Jackrum, too. Well, I’ll give ’em their chance at real soldierin’.”
    “Sarge, it’ll be suicide to attack the main gates!” said Polly.
    Jackrum slapped his belly.
    “See this lot?” he said. “It’s like having yer own armor! Bloke once stuck a blade in this up to the hilt and was surprised as hell when I nutted him! Anyway, you lads’ll be making so much fuss the guards will be distracted, right? You’re relying on me, I’m relying on you. That’s milit’ry, that is. You give me a signal, any signal. That’s all I’ll need.”
    “The Duchess says your path takes you further,” said Wazzer.
    “Oh yeah?” said Jackrum jovially. “And where’s that, then? Somewhere with a good pub, I hope!”
    “The Duchess says, um, it should lead to the town of Scritz,” said Wazzer. She said it quietly while the rest of the squad were laughing, not so much at Jackrum’s comment as a way of losing some of the tension. But Polly heard it.
    Jackrum was really, really good, she thought. The fleeting expression of terror was gone in an instant.
    “Scritz? Nothing there,” said Jackrum. “Dull town.”
    “There was a sword,” said Wazzer.
    Jackrum was ready this time. There was not a flicker of expression, just the blank face that he was so good at. And that was odd, Polly thought, because there should have been something, even if it was only puzzlement.
    “Handled lots of swords in my time,” he said dismissively. “Yes, Private Halter?”
    “There’s one thing you didn’t tell us, Sarge,” said Tonker, lowering her hand. “Why is the regiment called the Ins-and-Outs?”
    “First into battle, last out of the fray,” said Jackrum automatically.
    “So why are we nicknamed the Cheesemongers?”
    “Yes,” said Shufti. “Why, Sarge? Because the way those girls were talking, it sounded like it’s something we ought to know!”
    Jackrum made a clicking noise of exasperation. “Oh, Tonker, why the hell did you wait ’til you’d got your trousers off before asking me that? I’ll feel embarrassed telling yer now!” And Polly thought: that’s dangling bait, right? You want to tell us. You want to get any conversation away from Scritz…
    “Ah,” said Tonker. “It’s about sex, then, is it?”
    “Not as such, no…”
    “Well, tell me, then,” said Tonker. “I’d like to know before I die. If it makes you feel any better I’ll nudge people and go gnher, gnher, gnher. ”
    Jackrum