Phule’s Company by Robert Asprin

Phule nodded stiffly, not liking the way the major was taking control of the meeting.

“All right. For our event, we choose close order drill, since that’s most of what you do on an honor guard post. What’s yours?”

The captain’s heart sank slightly. Of all the skills normally associated with the military, close order drill was, perhaps, his company’s worst.

“The confidence course.”

For the first time, the major showed surprise, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into the sweatband of his beret.

“The confidence course?” he repeated. “All right, Captain. It’s your funeral. Now for the third event, assuming we get to it …” He gestured at Wingas. “The governor here tells me you and your crew fancy yourself to be fencers. How does a three-weapon match sound to you … foil, saber, and épée … best two out of three?”

A warning bell went off in Phule’s mind. This seemed a little too pat.

“It sounds like the governor has told you quite a bit,” he said, stalling for time.

“Is that a yes or a no? Come on, Captain. Let’s not take all day on this.”

“Tell me, Major. Do you fence yourself?”

“Me? I’ve played a little bit with épée.”

“Then let me add a little rider to your proposal. The same three-weapon match, but we fence épée last … between the unit commanders. That way, if it should come right down to the wire, we can settle this between the two of us.”

Major O’Donnel’s face split in a wide grin.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Captain. Agreed … though I doubt things will get that far.”

“You might be surprised, Major,” Phule returned with a tight smile. “My troops have surprised a lot of people, including me.”