Monstrous Regiment

bits—quite small bits—of barrel. Half the chimney had collapsed into the fireplace and the soot was blazing fiercely. Polly wondered if, down in the valley, it’d look like a signal…
    The door was gone. So was a lot of wall around it. Beyond—
    Smoke and dust filled the air. In it, men lay groaning, or picked their way aimlessly across the rubble. When the squad arrived, they did not simply fail to put up a fight, they failed to understand. Or hear.
    The women lowered their weapons. Polly spotted the sergeant, who was sitting and hitting the side of his head with the flat of his hand.
    “Give me the keys!” she demanded.
    He tried to focus.
    “What?”
    “The keys!”
    “I’ll have a brown one, please.”
    “Are you okay?”
    “What?”
    Polly reached down and snatched the keyring from the unresisting man’s belt, fighting down an instinct to apologize. She threw them to Blouse.
    “Will you do the honors, sir? I think we’ll be having a lot of visitors really soon.” She turned to the squad. “The rest of you, get their weapons off them!”
    “Some of these men are badly hurt, Polly,” said Igorina, kneeling down. “There’s one here with multiple.”
    “Multiple what?” said Polly, watching the steps.
    “Just…multiple. Multiple everything. But I know I can save his arm, because I’ve just found it over there. I think he must’ve been holding his sword and—”
    “Just do what you can, okay?” said Polly.
    “Hey, they’re enemies ,” said Tonker, picking up a sword.
    “Thith ith an Igor thing,” said Igorina, taking off her pack. “I’m thorry, you wouldn’t underthand.”
    “I’m beginning not to.” Tonker joined Polly in her watch on the stairs. Around them, men groaned and stone creaked.
    “I wonder how much damage we did? There’s a lot of dust up there…”
    “There’ll be a lot of people here soon,” said Polly more calmly than she felt. Because this is going to be it, she thought. This time there’s going to be no turkey to save us. This is where I find out if I’m the meat or the metal…
    She could hear Blouse unlocking doors, and the shouts from those within.
    “Lieutenant Blouse, Tenth Infantry!” he was saying. “This is a rescue, broadly speaking! Sorry about the mess!”
    Probably his inner Daphne had added that last bit, Polly thought. And then the corridor was full of released men, and someone said, “What are these women doing here! For god’s sake, give me that sword, girl!”
    And, right now, she wasn’t inclined to argue.

    Men take over. It is probably because of socks.
    The squad retired to the kitchen, where Igorina was at work. She worked fast, efficiently, and, on the whole, with very little blood. Her large pack was open beside her. The jars inside were blue, green, and red; some of them smoked when she opened them, or gave off strange lights.
    Igorina’s fingers moved in a blur. It was fascinating to watch her work. At least, it was if you hadn’t just eaten.
    “Squad, this is Major Erick von Moldvitz! He asked to meet you!” They turned at the sound of Blouse’s voice. He’d brought a newcomer.
    The major was young, but much heavier built than the lieutenant. He had a scar across his face.
    “Stand easy, lads,” he said. “Blouse here has been telling me what crackin’ work you’ve been doing. Well done! Dressin’ up as women, eh? Lucky you weren’t found out!”
    “Yessir,” said Polly. From outside, there came the sound of cries and fighting.
    “Didn’t bring your uniforms with you?” said the major.
    “Could’ve been tricky if they were found on us,” said Polly, staring at Blouse.
    “Could’ve been tricky anyway, eh, if you were searched?” said the major, winking.
    “Yessir,” said Polly obediently. “Lieutenant Blouse told you all about us, did he, sir?”
    Just behind the major, Blouse was making a universal gesture. It consisted of both hands held palms up and outwards and waggled furiously with all fingers extended.
    “Hah, yes. Stole some clothes from a knockin’ shop, eh? Young lads like you shouldn’t have gone in a place like that, eh? Those places are an Abomination, if they’re run right!” said the major, wagging a finger theatrically. “Anyway, we’re doing well! Hardly any guards this deep in the Keep, y’see. The whole place was built on the basis that the enemy would be on the outside! I say, what’s that man doin’ to the man on the slab?”
    “Patching him up, thur,”