Monstrous Regiment

windows. From here, it was just a wall extending to the sky. No way in, it said. No way out. In this wall are few doors, and they close with finality.
    This close to the deep, slow river, the air was bone-chilling cold, and grew colder the higher they looked.
    Around the curve they could see the little rock shelf where the back door was, and the women ahead of them talking to a guard.
    “This is not going to work,” said Shufti under her breath. “They’re showing him some papers. Anyone brought theirs? No?”
    The soldier had looked up and was watching the girls with that blank official expression of someone who was not looking for excitement or adventure in his life.
    “Keep moving,” murmured Polly. “If it all gets really bad, burst into tears.”
    “That’s disgusting,” said Tonker.
    Their treacherous feet were taking them closer all the time. Polly kept her eyes downwards, as was proper in an unmarried woman. There would be others watching, she knew it. They’d probably be bored, they might not be expecting any trouble, but up on those walls there were eyes fixed on her.
    They reached the guard. Just inside the narrow stone doorway, there was another one, lounging in the shadow.
    “Papers,” said the guard.
    “Oh, sir, I have none,” said Polly. She’d been working out the speech on the way down through the wood. War, fears of invasion, people fleeing, no food…you didn’t have to make things up, you just had to reassemble reality. “I had to leave—”
    “Oh, right, ” the guard interrupted. “No papers? No problem! If you’d just step in and see my colleague? Nice of you to join us!” He stood aside and waved a hand toward the dark entrance.
    Mystified, Polly stepped inside, with the others following.
    Behind them, the door swung shut.
    Inside, she saw that they were in a long passage with many slits in the wall to rooms on either side. Lamplight shone from the slits. She could see shadows beyond them. Bowmen could turn anyone trapped in here into mince.
    At the end of the corridor another door swung open. It led into a small room in which there sat, at a desk, a young man in a uniform Polly didn’t recognize, although it had a captain’s insignia. Standing to one side was a much, much larger man in the same uniform, or possibly two uniforms stitched together. He had a sword. There was that about him: when this man held a sword, it was clearly held, and held by him. The eye was drawn to it. Even Jade would have been impressed.
    “Good morning, ladies,” said the captain. “No papers, eh? Take off your scarves, please.”
    And that’s it, thought Polly as the bottom of her stomach dropped away. And we thought we were being clever. There was nothing for it but to obey.
    “Ah. You’ll tell me your hair got shaved off as a punishment for fraternizing with the enemy, eh?” said man, barely looking up. “Except for you,” he added to Igorina. “Didn’t feel like fraternizing with any enemies? Something wrong with decent Zlobenian boys?”
    “Er…no,” said Igorina.
    Now the captain gave them a bright little smile.
    “Gentlemen, let’s not mess about, shall we? You walk wrong. We do watch , you know. You walk wrong and you stand wrong. You,” he pointed to Tonker, “have got a bit of shaving soap under one ear. And you, lad, are either deformed or you’ve tried the old trick of sticking a pair of socks down your undershirt.”
    Crimson with humiliation, Polly hung her head.
    “Getting in or out disguised as washerwomen,” said the captain, shaking his head. “Everyone outside this stupid country knows that one, lads, and most of them make more effort than you boys. Well, for you war is over. This place has got big, big dungeons and I don’t mind telling you you’re probably going to be better off in here than outside—yeah, what do you want?”
    Shufti had raised a hand.
    “Can I show you something?” she said. Polly didn’t turn, but watched the captain’s face as, beside Polly, cloth rustled. She couldn’t believe it. Shufti was raising her skirt…
    “Oh,” said the captain.
    There was an explosion from Tonker, but it was an explosion of tears. They came out accompanied by a long, mournful wail, as she threw herself onto the floor.
    “We walked so-oo far! We lay in ditches to hide from soldiers! There’s no food! We want to work. You called us boys! Why are you so-oo cruel? ”
    Polly knelt down and half-picked her up, patting her on the back as