Monstrous Regiment (Discworld 31)

"Hah! And there's no such rule, either, not like that one," said Jackrum, splashing his feet. "But ruperts never read the book of rules unless they're trying to find a reason to hang you, so I was safe there. Strappi was scared shitless, you know that."

"Yes, but he could have slipped away later on," said Polly. "He wasn't stupid. Rushing off into the night? He must've had something real close to run from, right?"

"Cor, that's an evil brain you have there, Perks," said Jackrum happily. Once again Polly had the definite feeling that the sergeant was enjoying this, just as he'd seemed pleased when she'd protested about the uniform. He wasn't a bully like Strappi - he treated Igorina and Wazzer with something approaching fatherly concern - but with Polly and Maladict and Tonker he pushed all the time, wanting you to push back.

"It does the job, sarge," she said.

"I just had a little tate-ah-tate with him, as it were. Quiet, like. Explained all the nasty things that can happen vees-ah-vee the confusion o' war."

"Like being found with his throat cut?" said Polly.

"Has been known to happen," said Jackrum innocently. "You know, lad, you're going to make a damn good sergeant one day. Any fool can use his eyes and ears, but you uses that brain to connect 'em up."

"I'm not going to be a sergeant! I'm going to get the job done and go home!" said Polly vehemently.

"Yes, I said that once, too." Jackrum grinned. "Perks, I don't need no clacky thing. I don't need no newsy paper. Sergeant Jackrum knows what's going on. He talks to the men coming back, the ones that won't talk to anyone else. I know more than the rupert, for all that he gets little letters from HQ that worry him so much. Everyone talks to Sergeant Jackrum. And in his big fat head, Sergeant Jackrum puts it all together. Sergeant Jackrum knows what's going on."

"And what's that, sarge?" said Polly innocently.

Jackrum didn't reply immediately. Instead, he reached down with a grunt and rubbed one of his feet. The corroded shilling on a string, which had lain innocently on the woollen vest, swung forward. But there was something else. For a moment something golden slipped out of the vest's open neck. Something oval and golden, on a golden chain, flashed in the sunlight. Then he straightened up and it was dragged back out of sight.

"This is a bloody odd war, lad," he said. "It's true there's not just Zlobenian soldiers out there. Lads say there's uniforms they'd never seen before. We've kicked a lot of backsides over the years, so maybe they really have ganged up and it's gonna be our turn. But what I reckon is, they're stuck. They took the Keep. Oh, yes, I know. But they've got to hold on to it. And winter's coming and all those lads from Ankh-Morpork and everywhere are a long way from home. We might have a chance yet. Hah, especially now the Prince is dead set on finding the young soldier that kneed him in the wedding tackle. That means he's angry. He'll make mistakes."

"Well, sarge, I think - "

"I'm glad you do, Private Perks," said Jackrum, suddenly becoming a sergeant again. "And I think that after you've seen to the rupert and had a nap, you and me is going to show the lads some swordsmanship. Whatever bleedin' war this is, sooner or later young Wazzer is going to have to use that blade he waggles about. Get going!"

Polly found Lieutenant Blouse sitting with his back to the cliff, eating scubbo out of a bowl. Igorina was packing away her medical kit, and Blouse's ear was bandaged.

"Everything all right, sir?" she said. "Sorry I wasn't - "

"I quite understand, Perks, you must stand your turn like the other 'lads'," said Blouse, and Polly heard the inverted commas clank into place. "I had a refreshing nap and the bleeding and, indeed, the shaking has quite stopped. However... I do still need a shave."

"You want me to shave you," said Polly, her heart sinking.

"I must set an example, Perks, but I have to say you 'lads' make such an effort it puts me to shame. You all seem to have faces 'as smooth as a baby's bottom', I must say!"

"Yes, sir." Polly pulled out the shaving gear and walked over to the fire, where the kettle was permanently boiling. Most of the squad was dozing, but Maladict was sitting cross-legged by the fire, doing something to his hat.

"Heard about the prisoner last night," he said, without looking up. "I don't think the el-tee is going to last very long, do you?"

"The who?"

"The lieutenant. From what I hear, Blouse's probably going to have a nasty accident. Jackrum thinks he's dangerous."

"He's learning, just like us."

"Yes, but the el-tee's supposed to know what to do. Do you think he does?"

"Jackrum's stuck, too," said Polly, topping up the kettle with cold water. "I think we just keep going."

"If there's anything there to get to," said Maladict. He held up the shako. "What do you think?"

The words "Born To Die" had been chalked on the side of the hat, next to the packet of cigarettes.

"Very... individual," said Polly. "Why do you smoke? It's not very... vampire, really."

"Well, I'm not supposed to be very vampire," said Maladict, lighting up with a shaking hand. "It's the sucking. I need it. I'm on edge. I'm getting the no-coffee jitters. I'm not good with woods in any case."