Monstrous Regiment

insisted, and is, in fact, in command. He is, you could say, a sore loser. Very sore, according to rumor.”
    “The newspaper writer believed all that stuff?” said Polly, amazed.
    “I don’t know, but he certainly wrote it down. You say Lord Rust offered to let you all go home quietly?”
    “Yessir.”
    “And the consensus of opinion was that he could…”
    “Stick it up his jumper, sir.”
    “Oh, yes. I couldn’t read my own writing. J…u…m…” Clogston carefully wrote the word in capital letters, and then said: “I am not saying this, I am not here, but some…senior…people on our side are wondering if you would just quietly go…?”
    The question hung in the air like a corpse from a beam.
    “I’ll put that down as ‘jumper’ too, then, shall I?” said Clogston.
    “Some of us have got nowhere to go to ,” said Tonker.
    “Or with,” said Shufti.
    “We haven’t done anything wrong,” said Polly.
    “Jumper it is, then,” said the major. He folded up his little spectacles and sighed.
    “They won’t even tell me what charges are going to be made.”
    “Being Bad Girls,” said Tonker. “Who are we fooling, sir? The enemy wanted just to be quietly rid of us, and the general wants the same thing! That’s the trouble about the good guys and the bad guys! They’re all guys!”
    “Would we have got a medal, sir, if we’d been men?” Shufti demanded.
    “Yep. Certainly. And Blouse would have been promoted on the spot, I imagine. But right now we’re at war, and this might not be the time—”
    “—to thank a bunch of Abominable women?” Polly suggested.
    Clogston smiled. “I was going to say ‘to lose concentration.’ It’s the political branch who are pushing for this, of course. They want to stop word getting around. And high command want this over quickly for the same reason.”
    “When is all this going to start?” said Polly.
    “In about half an hour.”
    “This is stupid!” said Tonker. “They’re in the middle of a war and they’re going to take the time to hold a trial for a few women who haven’t even done anything wrong?”
    “The general has insisted,” said Clogston. “He wants this cleared out of the way.”
    “And what authority has this meeting got?” said Polly coldly.
    “Thousands of men under arms,” said Clogston. “Sorry. The trouble is, when you say to a general ‘you and whose army?’ he just has to point out of the window. But I intend to prove that the meeting should be a court-martial. You all kissed the Duchess? You took the shilling? I say that makes it military business.”
    “And that’s good, is it?”
    “Well, it means there are procedures,” said the major. “The last Abomination from Nuggan was against jigsaw puzzles. They break the world into pieces, he says. That’s making people think, at last. The army may be crazy, but at least it’s crazy by numbers. It’s reliably insane. Er, your sleeping friend…will you leave her here?”
    “No,” said the squad, as one woman.
    “She needs my constant attention,” said Igorina.
    “If we leave her she might have a sudden attack of vanishing without a trace,” said Tonker.
    “We stick together,” said Polly. “We don’t leave a man behind.”

    The room chosen for the tribunal was a ballroom. More than half the Keep had been taken back, Polly learned, but the distribution of ground was erratic. The alliance still held the central buildings, and the armory, but was entirely surrounded by Borogravian forces. The current prize to fight for was the main gate complex, which hadn’t been built to withstand attack from inside. What was happening out there now was a brawl, a midnight bar fight but on a huge scale. And, since there were various war engines atop the towers now occupied by either side, the Keep was shooting at itself, in the finest traditions of the circular firing squad.
    The floor in here smelled of polish and chalk. Tables had been pushed together to made a rough semicircle. There must have been more than thirty officers, Polly thought. Then she saw the other tables behind the semicircle, and the maps, and the people scurrying in and out, and realized that this was not just about them . This was a war room.
    The squad were marched in, and stood at attention. Igorina had browbeaten a couple of guards to carry Wazzer on a stretcher. That circle of stitches under her eye was worth more that a colonel’s pips. No soldier wanted to be on the wrong side of