Monstrous Regiment

said Polly, stepping back. “It’s him again. De Worde. The writer man.”
    “You’re them! ” he said.
    “Dem who?” said Jade.
    “Oh dear ,” said Maladict.
    “Look, I’d give anything to talk to you!” said de Worde. “Please?”
    “You’re with the enemy!” hissed Polly.
    “What? Them? No! They’re from Lord Rust’s regiment. From Ankh-Morpork! They’ve been sent to protect us!”
    “Troops to protect you in Borogravia?” said Maladict. “Who from?”
    “You mean from whom? Er…well…you, in theory.”
    Jade leaned down. “ Efficient , aren’t dey…”
    “Look, I must talk to you,” said the man urgently. “This is astounding! Everyone’s looking for you! Did you kill that old couple in the woods?”
    Birds sang. Far off, there was the call of the female blue-capped woodpecker.
    “A patrol found the fresh graves,” said de Worde.
    High above, an ice heron, a winter migrant from the Hub, gave an ugly honk as it searched for lakes.
    “I take it you didn’t, then,” said de Worde.
    “We buried them,” said Maladict coldly. “We don’t know who killed them.”
    “We did take some vegetables,” said Polly. She remembered laughing about it. Admittedly, it was only because it was that or start crying, but even so…
    “You’ve been living off the land?” He’d tugged a notebook out of his pocket and was scribbling in it with a pencil.
    “We don’t have to talk to you,” said Maladict.
    “No, no, you must! There’s so much you need to know! You’re in the…Ups-and-Downs, right?”
    “Ins-and-Outs,” said Polly.
    “And you—” the man began.
    “I’ve had enough of this,” said Maladict and marched away from the tree and into the clearing. The two cavalrymen looked up from their fire, and there was a moment of immobility before one reached for his sword.
    Maladict swung the bow quickly from one to the other, its point hypnotizing them like a swinging watch. “I’ve got only one shot but there’s two of you,” he said. “Who shall I shoot? You chose. Now, listen very carefully: where’s your coffee? You’ve got coffee, haven’t you? C’mon, everyone’s got coffee! Spill the beans!”
    They stared at the crossbow and slowly shook their heads.
    “What about you, writer man?” snarled Maladict. “Where’re you hiding the coffee?”
    “We only have cocoa,” said the writer, raising his hands quickly as Maladict turned on him. “You’re welcome to—”
    Maladict dropped his crossbow, which fired straight up into the air, * and sat down with his head in his hands.
    “We’re all gonna die, ” he said. The troopers shifted as though to stand up, and Jade raised her sapling.
    “Don’t even fink about it,” she said.
    Polly turned to the writer man. “You want us to talk to you, sir? Then you talk to us. Is this about…Prince Heinrich’s…socks?”
    Maladict stood up in one mad movement. “I say we grease the lot of them and go home!” he said to no one in particular. “One, Two, Three! What We Are Fighting For!”
    “Socks?” said the writer, looking nervously at the vampire. “What’ve socks got to do with it?”
    “I just gave you an order , Polly,” said Maladict.
    “What is it you think we don’t know?” Polly insisted, glaring at de Worde.
    “Well, to start with, you’re just about all that’s left of the Ins-and-Outs—”
    “That’s not true!”
    “Oh, there’s prisoners and wounded, I think. But why should I lie to you? Why did he call you Polly?”
    “Because I know a lot about birds,” said Polly, mentally cursing. “How do you know what’s been happening to the regiment?”
    “Because it’s my job to know things,” said the man. “What’s that bird up there?”
    Polly glanced up. “I don’t have time for stupid games,” she said. “And that’s a—”
    She stopped. Something was wheeling high above, in the forbidden blue.
    “You don’t know?” said de Worde.
    “Yes, of course I know,” said Polly irritably. “It’s a white-necked buzzard. But I thought they never came this far into the mountains. I only ever saw one in a book—” She raised her bow again, and tried to take control. “Am I right, Mr. It’s-my-job-to-know-things?”
    De Worde raised his hands again and gave her a sickly smile. “Probably,” he said. “I live in a city. I know sparrows from starlings. After that, everything’s a duck, as far as I’m concerned.”
    Polly glared at him.
    “Look, please,” said the man.