Monstrous Regiment

see.”
    “Ah? Good. Well, jolly good,” said Blouse. “I definitely feel a lot better for knowing that. Don’t you, Sergeant?”
    “Yessir,” said Jackrum. “’Cos before this, sir, we didn’t have a prayer.”

They scouted in threes, while the rest of the squad lay up in a deep hollow among the bushes. There were enemy patrols, but it’s not hard to avoid half a dozen men who stick to the tracks and aren’t being careful not to make noise. The troops were Zlobenian, and acted as though they owned the place.
    For some reason, Polly ended up patrolling with Maladict and Wazzer, or, to put it another way, a vampire on the edge and a girl who was possibly so far over it that she’d found a new edge out beyond the horizon. She was changing every day, that was a fact. On the day they’d all joined up, a lifetime ago, she’d been this shivering little waif who flinched at shadows. Now, sometimes, she seemed taller, full of some ethereal certainty, and shadows fled before her. Well, not in actual fact, Polly would admit. But she walked as if they should.
    And then there had been the Miracle of the Turkey. That was hard to explain.
    The three of them had been moving along the cliffs. They’d circled a couple of Zlobenian lookout posts, forewarned by the smell of cooking fires but, alas, not by the smell of any coffee. Maladict seemed to be mostly in control, except for a tendency to mutter to himself in letters and numbers, but Polly had stopped that by threatening to hit him with a stick the very next time he did it.
    They’d reached a cliff edge that gave yet another view of the Keep, and once again Polly raised the telescope and scanned the sheer walls and jumbled rocks for any sign of another entrance.
    “Look down at the river,” said Wazzer.
    The circle of view blurred upwards as Polly shifted the scope; when it stopped moving she saw whiteness. She had to lower the instrument to see what she’d been looking at.
    “Oh my,” she said. “There’s Blouse’s secret entrance, right where anyone can see it.”
    “Makes sense, though,” said Maladict. “And there’s a path all along the river, see? There’s a couple more women on it.”
    “Tiny gateway, though,” said Polly. “And it’d be so easy to search people for weapons.”
    “Soldiers couldn’t get through though,” said the vampire.
    “We could,” said Polly. “And we’re soldiers. Aren’t we?”
    There was a pause before Maladict said: “Soldiers need weapons . Swords and crossbows get noticed.”
    “There will be weapons inside,” said Wazzer. “The Duchess has told me. The castle is full of weapons.”
    “Did She tell you how to make the enemy let go of them?” said Maladict.
    “All right, all right,” said Polly quickly. “We ought to tell the rupert as soon as possible, okay? Let’s get back!”
    “Hold on, I’m the corporal,” said Maladict.
    “Well?” said Polly. “And?”
    “Let’s get back?” said Maladict.
    “Good idea.”
    She should have listened to the birdsong, she realized later. The shrill calls in the distance would have told her the news, if only she’d been calm enough to listen.
    They hadn’t gone more than thirty yards before they saw the soldiers. Someone in the Zlobenian army was dangerously clever. He’d realized that the way to spot interlopers was not to march noisily along the beaten paths, but to sneak quietly between the trees.
    The soldier had a crossbow; it was sheer luck… probably sheer luck that he was looking the other way when Polly came around a holly bush.
    She flung herself behind a tree and gestured madly at Maladict further down the path, who had the sense to take cover.
    Polly drew her sword and held it clutched to her chest in both hands. She could hear the man. He was some way away, but he was moving toward her. Probably the little lookout they had just found was a regular point on the patrol route. After all, she thought bitterly, it was just the sort of thing some untrained idiots might come across, maybe a quiet patrol could even surprise them there…
    She shut her eyes and tried to breathe normally. This was it this was it this was it! This was where she found out.
    What to remember what to remember what to remember…when the metal meets the meat…be holding the metal.
    She could taste metal in her mouth.
    The man would walk right past her. He’d be alert, but not that alert. A slash would be better than a stab. Yes, a good swipe at head height would