...my boy... my boy...

"I see heroes!" said the Duchess, staring at the tableau of officers. "All of you gave up... much. But I demand more. Much more. Is there any amongst you who for the sake of my memory will not die in battle?" Wazzer's head turned and looked along the row, and smiled.

"No. I see there is not. And now I demand that you do what the ignorant might feel is the easier thing. You must refrain from dying in battle. Revenge is not redress. Revenge is a wheel, and it turns backwards. The dead are not your masters."

"What is it you want of me, ma'am?" Froc managed.

"Call in your other officers. Make what truces are necessary, for now. This body, this poor child, will lead you. I am weak, but I can move small things. Thoughts, perhaps. I will leave her... something, a light in the eye, a tone in the voice. Follow her. You must invade."

"Certainly! But how - "

"You must invade Borogravia! In the name of sanity, you must go home! The winter is coming, the trusting animals are not fed, old men die of cold, women mourn, the country corrodes. Fight Nuggan, because he is nothing now, nothing but the poisonous echo of all your ignorance and pettiness and malicious stupidity! Find yourself a worthier god. And let... me... go! All those prayers, all those entreaties... to me! Too many hands clasped, that could more gainfully answer your prayers by effort and resolve! And what was I? Just a rather stupid woman when I was alive. But you believed I watched over you, and listened to you... and so I had to, I had to listen, knowing that there was no help... I wish people would not be so careless about what they believe. Go. Invade the one place you've never conquered. And these women will help. Be proud of them. And, lest you think to twist my meaning, lest you doubt... let me, as I leave, return to you this gift. Remember. A kiss."

...a kiss

...a kiss a kiss return to you kiss

...remember

As one woman, as one man, the crowd in the room reached up hesitantly to their left cheek. And Wazzer folded up, very gently, collapsing like a sigh.

Froc was the first to speak. "This is... I think we need to..." She faltered into silence.

Jackrum got to his feet, brushed the dust off his shako, placed it on his head and saluted. "Permission to speak, sir?" he said.

"Oh, good heaven, Jackrum!" said Froc distractedly. "At a time like this? Yes, yes..."

"What are your orders, sir?"

"Orders?" Froc blinked, and looked around. "Orders, orders... yes. Well, I am the commander, I can request a... yes, I can request a truce, sergeant - "

"That's sergeant major, sir," said Jackrum. "Right you are, sir, I'll organize a runner to go to the Alliance."

"I suppose a... white flag would be - "

"Good as done, sir. Leave it to me," said Jackrum, radiating efficiency.

"Yes, of course... Er, before, before we go any further... ladies and gentlemen, I... er... some of the things said here... the whole issue of women joining as... women... obviously..." She raised her hand to her cheek again, in a kind of wonderment. "They are welcome. I... salute them. But for those of us that went before, perhaps it is not... not yet the time. You understand?"

"What?" said Polly.

"Lips sealed, sir!" said Jackrum. "You can leave it all to me, sir! Captain Blouse's squad, attention! You will obtain uniforms! You can't go around still dressed as washerwomen, oh dear me!"

"We are soldiers?" said Polly.

"O' course you are, otherwise I wouldn't be shouting at you, you 'orrible little woman! The world's turned upside down! It's a bit more important than you right now, eh? You've got what you're after, right? Now get hold of a uniform, find yourself a shako and wipe your face, at least. You are taking the official truce to the enemy."

"Me, sarge?" said Polly.

"Right! Just as soon as the officers have done the official letter. Tonker, Lofty... see what you can find for Perks to wear. Perks, don't be cowed, and bull yourself up. The rest of you, hurry up and wait!"

"Sergeant Jac - er, sergeant major?" said Blouse.

"Yessir?"

"I'm not a captain, you know."

"Are you not?" said Jackrum, grinning. "Well, leave it to Jackrum, sir. We shall see what the day brings, eh? Minor point, sir. I should lose the dress if I was you!"

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net