Monstrous Regiment

Dismissed!”
    They remained at something like attention until he was probably out of earshot, and then sagged.
    “Why does he always shout? ” said Shufti. “I mean, he only has to ask…”
    Polly upended the horrible scubbo into a tin bowl, and almost ran to the lieutenant’s shelter. He looked up from a map and smiled at her as if she was delivering a feast.
    “Ah, scubbo,” he said.
    “We are actually having other stuff, sir,” Polly volunteered. “I’m sure there’s enough to go around—”
    “Good heavens, no, it’s been years since I’ve had food like this,” said Blouse, picking up the spoon. “Of course, at school we didn’t appreciate it so much.”
    “You had food like this at school, sir?” said Polly.
    “Yes. Most days,” said Blouse happily.
    Polly couldn’t quite fit this in her head. Blouse was a nob. Nobs ate nobby food, didn’t they? “Had you done something bad , sir?”
    “I can’t imagine what you mean, Perks,” said Blouse, slurping at the horrible thin gruel. “Are the men rested?”
    “Yes, sir. The dead people were a bit of a shock—”
    “Yes. Bad business,” sighed the lieutenant. “Such is war, alas. I am only sorry you had to learn so fast. Such a terrible waste all the time. I am sure things can be sorted out when we reach Kneck, though. No general can expect young men like yourselves to be instant soldiers. I shall have something to say about that.”
    His rabbitty features looked unusually determined, as if a hamster had spotted a gap in its treadmill.
    “Do you require me for anything else, sir?” said Polly.
    “Er…do the men talk about me, Perks?”
    “Not really, sir, no.”
    The lieutenant looked disappointed. “Oh. Oh, well. Thank you, Perks.”

    Polly wondered if Jackrum ever slept. She did a spell of guard duty, and he stepped out from behind her with “Guess who, Perks! You’re on lookout. You should see the dreadful enemy before they see you. What’re the four S’s?”
    “Shape, shadow, silhouette, and shine, Sarge!” said Polly, snapping to attention. She’d been expecting this.
    That caused a moment’s pause from the sergeant before he said: “Just knew that, did yer?”
    “Nosir! A little bird told me when we changed guard, sir! Said you’d asked him, sir!”
    “Oh, so Jackrum’s little lads are gangin’up on their kindly ol’ sergeant, are they?” said Jackrum.
    “Nosir. Sharing information important to the squad in a vital survival situation, Sarge!”
    “You’ve got a quick mouth on you, Perks, I’ll grant you that.”
    “Thank you, Sarge!”
    “But I see you’re not standing in a bleedin’ shadow, Perks, nor have you done anything to change your bleedin’ shape, you’re silhouetted against the bleedin’ light, and your saber’s shining like a diamond in a chimney-sweep’s bleedin’ ear’ole! Explain!”
    “It’s because of the one C, Sarge!” said Polly, still staring straight ahead.
    “And that is?”
    “Color, Sarge! I’m wearing bleedin’ red-and-white in a bleedin’ gray forest, Sarge!”
    She risked a sideways glance. In Jackrum’s little piggy eyes there gleamed a gleam. It was the one they had when he was secretly pleased.
    “Ashamed of your lovely, lovely uniform, Perks?” he said.
    “Don’t want to be seen dead in it, Sarge,” said Polly.
    “Hah. As you were, Perks.”
    Polly smiled, straight ahead.
    When she came off guard for a bowl of game casserole, Jackrum was teaching basic sword craft to Lofty and Tonker, using hazel sticks as swords. By the time Polly had finished, he was teaching Wazzer some of the finer points of using a high-performance pistol crossbow, especially the one about not turning around with it cocked and saying “w-what is this bit for, Sarge?” Wazzer handled weapons like a houseproud woman disposing of a dead mouse—at arm’s length and trying not to look. But even she was better with them than Igor, who just didn’t seem at home with the idea of what was, to him, randomized surgery.
    Jade was dozing. Maladict was hanging by his knees under the roof of one of the sheds, with his arms folded across his chest; he must have been telling the truth when he said there were some aspects of being a vampire that were hard to give up.
    Igor and Maladict…
    She still wasn’t sure about Maladict, but Igor had to be a boy, with those stitches around the head, and that face that could only be called homely. * He was quiet, and neat, but maybe that’s how