Monstrous Regiment

which went on for some time.
    “Sounds like they’ve got the building,” said Polly.
    “Hooray for us,” said Tonker and spat.
    After a while, a small hatch was opened in the door and a silent man handed through a big can of scubbo and a tray of horse-bread. It wasn’t bad scubbo or, at least, not bad scubbo by the standards of bad scubbo. There was some discussion about whether being fed meant you weren’t going to be executed, until someone pointed out the tradition of the Last Hearty Meal. Igorina gave it as her professional opinion that the stew was not only hearty but lungy and livery, too. But at least it was hot.
    A couple of hours later, a can of saloop was handed through, with some mugs. This time, the guard winked.
    An hour after that, the door was unlocked.
    A young man in a major’s uniform stepped inside.
    Oh well, let’s go on as we started, Polly thought. She leaped to her feet.
    “Squaddd…. tennn… hut! ” With reasonable speed, the squad at least managed to stand up straight and in a line.
    The major acknowledged her by tapping the peak of his cap with a stick. It was definitely thinner than an inch.
    “Stand easy…Corporal, isn’t it?” he said.
    “Yessir.” That sounded promising.
    “I am Major Clogston, of the Provost’s Office,” said the major. “And I’d like you to tell me all about it. About everything. I will make notes, if you don’t mind.”
    “What’s this about?” said Tonker.
    “Ah, you’d be…Private Halter,” said Clogston. “I’ve already spoken at length to Lieutenant Blouse.” He turned, nodded at the guard hovering in the doorway, and shut the door. He also closed the hatch.
    “You are going to be tried,” he said, sitting down on the spare bunk. “The politicos want you to be tried by a full Nugganite court, but that would be tricky here, and no one wants this to go on for any longer than it has to. Besides, there have been an…unusual event. Someone has sent a communique to General Froc asking about you all by name. At least,” he added, “by your surnames.”
    “Was that Lord Rust, sir?”
    “No, it was someone called William de Worde. I don’t know if you’ve run across his newspaper thing? We’re wondering how he knew you were captured.”
    “Well, we didn’t tell him!” said Polly.
    “It makes things a little…tricky,” said Clogston. “Although, from your point of view, a lot more hopeful. There are those members of the army who are, let us say, considering the future of Borogravia. That is, they would like there to be one. My job is to present your case to the tribunal.”
    “Is that a court-martial?” said Polly.
    “No, they’re not that stupid. Calling it a court-martial would indicate that they accept that you are soldiers.”
    “ You did,” said Shufti.
    “De facto is not de jure,” said Clogston. “Now, as I said…tell me your story, Miss Perks.”
    “That’s ‘Corporal,’ thank you!”
    “I apologize for the lapse. Now…go on…”
    Clogston opened his bag and produced a pair of half-moon spectacles, which he put on, and took out a pencil and something white and square.
    “Whenever you’re ready?” he added.
    “Sir, are you really going to write on a jam sandwich?” said Polly.
    “What?” The major looked down and laughed. “Oh. No. Excuse me. I really mustn’t miss meals. Blood sugar, you know…”
    “Only it’s oozing, sir. Don’t mind us. We’ve eaten.”
    It took an hour, with many interruptions and corrections, and two more sandwiches. The major used up quite a lot of notebook, and occasionally had to stop and stare at the ceiling.
    “…and then we were thrown in here,” said Polly, sitting back.
    “Pushed, really,” said Igorina. “Nudged.”
    “Mmm,” said Clogston. “You say Corporal Strappi, as you knew him, was…suddenly very ill at the thought of going into battle?”
    “Yessir.”
    “And in the tavern in Plotz you really kneed Prince Heinrich in the fracas?”
    “In or about the fracas, sir. And I didn’t know it was him at the time, sir.”
    “I see you haven’t mentioned the action on the hilltop where, according to Lieutenant Blouse, your prompt work got the enemy code book…”
    “Not really worth mentioning, sir. We didn’t do much with it.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. Because of you and that nice man from the newspaper, the alliance has had two regiments trotting around in the mountains after some guerrilla leader called ‘Tiger.’ Prince Heinrich