Monstrous Regiment

Any chance we can make her throw up?”
    “Only by sticking your remaining fingers down her throat, Reg. Sorry. Buggy, do the best you can, please. And you, Reg, go back downstairs and see if they’ve got any coffee, will you?”

    “Oh dear,” murmured Shufti.
    “It’s big,” said Tonker.
    Blouse said nothing.
    “Not seen it before, sir?” said Jackrum cheerfully as they stared at the distant keep. If there is a fairy-tale scale for castles, where the top end is occupied by those white, spire-encrusted castles with the blue pointy roofs, then Kneck Keep was low, black, and clung to its outcrop like a storm cloud. A bed of the Kneck ran around it; along the peninsula on which it was built, the approach road was wide, and bereft of cover, and an ideal stroll for those who were tired of life. Blouse took all this in.
    “Er, no, Sergeant,” said Blouse. “I’ve seen pictures, of course, but…they don’t do it justice.”
    “Any of them books you read tell you what to do, sir?” said Jackrum. They were lying in some bushes half a mile away from the keep.
    “Possibly, Sergeant. In The Craft of War , Song Sung Lo said: to win without fighting is the greatest victory. The enemy wishes us to attack where he is strongest. Therefore, we will disappoint him. A way will present itself, Sergeant.”
    “Well, it’s never presented itself to me, and I’ve been here dozens of times,” said Jackrum, still grinning. “Hah, even the rats’d have to disguise themselves as washerwomen to get in that place! Even if you get up that road, you’ve got narrow entrances, holes in the ceiling to pour hot oil through, gates everywhere that a troll couldn’t smash through, coupla mazes, a hundred little ways you can be shot at, oh, it’s a wonderful place to attack.”
    “I wonder how the alliance got in?” said Blouse.
    “Treachery, probably, sir. The world’s full of traitors. Or perhaps they discovered the secret entrance, sir. You know, sir? The one you’re sure is there. Or p’raps you’ve forgotten? It’s the sort of thing that can slip your mind when you’re busy, I expect.”
    “We shall reconnoiter, Sergeant,” said Blouse coldly as they crawled out of the bushes. He brushed leaves off his uniform. Thalacephalos or, as Blouse referred to her, “the faithful steed,” had been turned loose miles back. You couldn’t sneak around on horseback and, as Jackrum had pointed out, the creature was too skinny for anyone to want to eat and too vicious for anyone to want to ride.
    “Right, sir, yes, we might as well do that, sir,” said Jackrum now, all gloating helpfulness. “Where would you like us to reconnoiter, sir?”
    “There must be a secret entrance, Sergeant. No one would build a place like that with only one entrance. Agreed?”
    “Yessir. Only perhaps they kept it a secret, sir. Only trying to help, sir.”
    They turned at the sound of urgent praying. Wazzer had fallen to her knees, hands clasped together. The rest of the squad edged away slowly. Piety is a wonderful thing.
    “What is he doing, Sergeant?” said Blouse.
    “Praying, sir,” said Jackrum.
    “I’ve noticed he does it a lot. Is that, er, within regulations, Sergeant?” the lieutenant whispered.
    “Always a difficult one, sir, that one,” said Jackrum. “I have, myself, prayed many times on the field of battle. Many times have I said The Soldier’s Prayer, sir, and I don’t mind admitting it.”
    “Er…I don’t think I know that one,” said Blouse.
    “Oh, I reckon the words’ll come to you soon enough, sir, once you’re up against the foe. Gen’rally, though, they’re on the lines of ‘oh god, let me kill this bastard before he kills me.’” Jackrum grinned at Blouse’s expression. “That’s what I call the Authorized Version, sir.”
    “Yes, Sergeant, but where would we be if we all prayed all the time?” said the lieutenant.
    “In heaven, sir, sitting at Nuggan’s right hand,” said Jackrum promptly. “That’s what I was taught as a little nipper, sir. Of course, it’d be a bit crowded, so it’s just as well we don’t.”
    At which point, Wazzer stopped praying and stood up, brushing dust off her knees. She gave the squad her bright, worrying smile.
    “The Duchess will guide our steps,” she said.
    “Oh. Good,” said Blouse weakly.
    “She will show us the way.”
    “Wonderful. Er…did She mention a map reference at all?” said the lieutenant.
    “She will give us eyes that we might