Monstrous Regiment

all the time, I must admit.” Well, that was true. It just wasn’t honest.
    “I’m so very glad to hear that, Ozz, because I had thought you were a backslider,” said Wazzer. “But you said that with such conviction. Perhaps this would be the time for us to get down on our knees and—”
    “Wazz, you’re standing in another man’s grave,” said Polly. “There’s a time and place, you know? Let’s get back to the others, eh?”
    The happiest days of her life had been spent tramping through forests, digging graves, and trying to dodge soldiers on both sides? And the trouble with Polly was that she had a mind that asked questions even when she really, really didn’t want to know the answers.
    “So…the Duchess is still talking to you, is she?” she said as they made their way among the dark trees.
    “Oh, yes. When we were in Plotz, sleeping in the barracks,” said Wazzer. “She said it was all working.”
    Don’t, don’t ask another question, said part of Polly’s mind, but she ignored it out of sheer horrible curiosity. Wazzer was nice…well, sort of nice, in as lightly scary way—but talking to her was like picking at a scab; you knew what was likely to be under the crust, but you picked anyway.
    “So…what did you used to do back in the world?” she said.
    Wazzer gave her a haunting smile. “I used to be beaten.”

    Tea was brewing in a small hollow near the track. Several of the squad were standing guard. No one liked the idea of men in dark clothes sneaking round.
    “Mug of saloop?” said Shufti, holding one up. A few days ago, they’d have called it “sweet milky tea,” but even if they couldn’t walk the walk yet they were determined to talk the talk as soon as possible.
    “What’s happening?” said Polly.
    “Dunno,” said Shufti. “Sarge and the rupert went off over that way with the prisoner, but no one tells us groans anything.”
    “It’s ‘grunts,’ I think,” said Wazzer, taking the tea.
    “I’ve done them a couple of mugs, anyway. See what you can find out, eh?”
    Polly gulped her tea down, grabbed the mugs, and hurried away.
    On the edge of the hollow, Maladict was lounging against a tree. There was this about vampires; they could never look scruffy. Instead, they were…what was the word… dishabille. It meant untidy, but with bags and bags of style. In this case, Maladict’s jacket was open and he’d stuck his packet of cigarettes in the band of his shako. He saluted her with his crossbow as she went past.
    “Ozz?” he said.
    “Yes, Corp?”
    “Any coffee in their packs?”
    “Sorry, Corp. Only tea.”
    “Damn!” Maladict thumped the tree behind him. “Hey, you went straight for the man who was swallowing the cypher. Straight for him. How come?”
    “Just luck,” said Polly.
    “Yeah, right. Try again. I have very good night vision.”
    “Oh, all right. Well, the one on the left started to run, and the one in the middle was dropping the clacks tube and reaching for his sword, but the one on the right thought that putting something into this mouth was more important even than fighting or running away. Satisfied?”
    “You worked out all that in a couple of seconds? That was smart.”
    “Yeah, right. Now please forget it, okay? I don’t want to be noticed. I don’t particularly want to be here. I just want to find my brother. Okay?”
    “Fine. I just thought that you’d like to know someone saw you. And you’d better get that tea to ’em before they try to kill one another.”
    At least I was someone watching the enemy, Polly thought furiously as she walked away. I wasn’t someone watching another soldier. Who does he think he is? Or she is?
    She heard the raised voices as she pushed through a thicket.
    “You can’t torture an unarmed man!” That was Blouse’s voice.
    “Well, I’m not waiting for him to arm himself, sir! He knows stuff! And he’s a spy!”
    “Don’t you dare kick him in the ribs again! That is an order , Sergeant!”

“Asking nicely didn’t work, did it, sir? ‘Pretty please with sprinkles on top’ is not a recognized method of interrogation! You shouldn’t be here, sir! You should say, ‘Sergeant, find out what you can from the prisoner!’ and then go somewhere and wait until I tell you what I got out of him, sir!”
    “You did it again!”
    “What? What?”
    “You kicked him again!”
    “No, I didn’t!”
    “Sergeant, I gave you an order!”
    “And?”
    “Tea’s up!” said Polly