Monstrous Regiment

he’s banned the religion and, frankly, hardly anyone objected. He wants Zlobenia to move forward. He admires Ankh-Morpork very much.”
    “Yes, I know. He sounds almost as insane as Nuggan,” said Vimes. “Okay, so what we’ve probably got is an elaborate charade to keep Heinrich out. How’s this place governed?”
    “There isn’t much. A bit of tax collecting, and that’s about all. We think some of the senior court officials just drift on as if the Duchess is alive. The only thing that really works is the army.”
    “All right, how about coppers? Everyone needs coppers. At least they have their feet on the ground.”
    “I believe informal citizens’ committees enforce Nugganatic law,” said Chinny.
    “Oh, gods. Prodnoses, curtain-twitchers, and vigilantes,” said Vimes. He stood up, and peered out through the narrow window at the plain below. It was nighttime. Cooking fires in the enemy camp made demonic constellations in the darkness.
    “Did they tell you why I’ve been sent here, Clarence?” he said.
    “No, sir. My instructions were that you would, um, oversee things. Prince Heinrich is not very happy about it.”
    “Oh, well, the interests of Ankh-Morpork are the interests of all money-lov…oops, sorry, all freedom -loving people everywhere,” said Vimes. “We can’t have a country that turns back our mail coaches and keeps cutting down the clacks towers. That’s expensive. They’re cutting the continent in half, they’re the pinch in the hourglass. I’m to bring things to a ‘satisfactory’ conclusion. And frankly, Clarence, I’m wondering if it’s even worth attacking Borogravia. It’ll be cheaper to sit here and wait for it to explode. Although I notice…where was that report…ah, yes…it will starve first.”
    “Regrettably so, sir.”

    Igor stood mutely in front of the recruiting table.
    “Don’t often see you people these days,” said Jackrum.
    “Yeah, run out of fresh brains, ’ave yer?” said the corporal nastily.
    “Now then, Corporal, no call for that,” said the sergeant, leaning back in his creaking chair. “There’s plenty of lads out there walking around on legs they wouldn’t still have if there hadn’t been a friendly Igor around, eh, Igor?”
    “Yeah? Well, I heard about people waking up and findin’ their friendly Igor had whipped out their brains in the middle of the night and buggered off to flog ’em,” said the corporal, glaring at Igor.
    “I promith you, your brain ith entirely thafe from me, Corporal,” said Igor. Polly started to laugh, and stopped when she realized absolutely no one else was doing so.
    “Yeah, well, I met a sergeant who said an Igor put a man’s legs on backwards ,” said Corporal Strappi. “What good’s that to a soldier, eh?”
    “Could advance and retreat at the thame time?” said Igor levelly. “Thargent, I know all the thtorieth, and they are nothing but vile calumnieth. I theek only to therve my country. I do not want trouble.”
    “Right,” said the sergeant. “Nor do we. Make your mark, and you’ve got to promise not to mess about with Corporal Strappi’s brain, right? Another signature? My word, I can see we’ve got ourselves a bleedin’ college of recruits today. Give him his cardboard shilling, Corporal.”
    “Thank you,” said Igor. “And I would like to give the picture a wipe, if it’th all the thame to you.” He produced a small cloth.
    “Wipe it?” said Strappi. “Is that allowed, Sergeant?”
    “What do you want to wipe it for, mister?” said Jackrum.
    “To remove the invithible demonth,” said Igor.
    “I can’t see any invis—” Strappi began and stopped.
    “Just let him, all right?” said Jackrum. “It’s one of their funny little ways.”
    “Dun’t seem right,” muttered Strappi. “Practically treason…”
    “Can’t see why it’d be wrong just to give the old girl a wash,” said the sergeant shortly. “Next. Oh…”
    After carefully wiping the stained picture and giving it a perfunctory peck, Igor came and stood next to Polly, giving her a sheepish grin. But she was watching the next recruit.
    He was short and quite slim, which was fairly usual in a country where it was rare to get enough food to make you fat. But he dressed in black and expensively, like an aristocrat; he even had a sword. The sergeant was, therefore, looking worried. Clearly a man could get into trouble talking wrong to a nob who might have important friends.
    “You sure you’ve