There was another silence broken only by the riffle of the pages. There’s no Rule 796, Polly remembered. Are they going to fight over this?
‘796, 796,’ said Blouse softly. ‘Ah . . .’ He stared at the page, and Jackrum stared at him.
Blouse closed the book with a leathery flwap. ‘Absolutely correct, sergeant!’ he said brightly. ‘I commend you on your encyclopaedic knowledge of the regulations!’
Jackrum looked thunderous. ‘What?’
‘You were practically word perfect, sergeant!’ said Blouse. And there was a gleam in his eye. Polly remembered Blouse looking at the captured cavalry captain. This was that same look, the look which said: now I have the upper hand.
Jackrum’s chins wobbled.
‘You had something to add, sergeant?’ said Blouse.
‘Er, no . . . sir,’ said Jackrum, his face an open declaration of war.
‘We’ll leave at moonrise,’ said Blouse. ‘I suggest we all get some rest until then. And then . . . may we prevail.’ He nodded to the group, and walked over to where Polly had spread his blanket in the lee of the bushes. After a few moments there were some snores, which Polly refused to believe. Jackrum certainly didn’t. He got up and strode out of the firelight. Polly hurried after him.
‘Did you hear that?’ snarled the sergeant, staring out at the darkening hills. ‘The little yoyo! What right has he got, checking up in the book o’ words?’
‘Well, you did quote chapter and verse, sarge,’ said Polly.
‘So? Officers are s’posed to believe what they’re told. And then he smiled! Did you see? Caught me out and smiled at me! Thinks he’s got one over on me, just because he caught me out!’
‘You did lie, sarge.’
‘I did not Perks! It’s not lying when you do it to officers! It’s presentin’ them with the world the way they think it ought to be! You can’t let ‘em start checkin’ up for themselves. They get the wrong ideas. I told you, he’ll be the death of all of us. Invading the bloody keep? The man’s wrong in the head!’
‘Sarge!’ said Polly urgently.
‘Yes, what?’
‘We’re being signalled, sarge!’
On a distant hilltop, twinkling like an early evening star, a white light was flashing.
Blouse lowered his telescope. ‘They’re repeating “CQ”,’ he said. ‘And I believe those longer pauses are when they’re aiming their tube in different directions. They’re looking for their spies. “Seek You”, see? Private Igor?’
‘Thur?’
‘You know how that tube works, don’t you?’
‘Oh, yeth, thur. You jutht light a flare in the box, and then it’th just point and click.’
‘You’re not going to answer it, are you, sir?’ said Jackrum, horrified.
‘I am indeed, sergeant,’ said Blouse briskly. ‘Private Carborundum, please assemble the tube. Manickle, please bring the lantern. I shall need to read the code book.’
‘But that’ll give away our position!’ said Jackrum.
‘No, sergeant, because although this term may be unfamiliar to you I intend to what we call “lie”,’ said Blouse. ‘Igor, I’m sure you have some scissors, although I’d rather you didn’t attempt to repeat the word.’
‘I have thome of the appliantheth you mention, thur,’ said Igorina stiffly.
‘Good.’ Blouse looked round. ‘It’s almost pitch dark now. Ideal. Take my blanket and cut, oh, a three-inch circle out of it, then tie the blanket over the front of the tube.’
‘That will cut off motht of the light, thur!’
‘Indeed it will. My plan depends upon it,’ said Blouse proudly.
‘Sir, they will see the light, they’ll know we’re here,’ said Jackrum, as though repeating things to a child.
‘I explained, sergeant. I will lie,’ said Blouse.
‘You can’t lie when—’
‘Thank you for your input, sergeant, that will be all for now,’ said Blouse. ‘Are we ready, Igor?’
‘Jutht about, thur,’ said Igorina, tying the blanket across the end of the tube. ‘Okay, thur. I’ll light the flare when you thay.’
Blouse unfolded the little book. ‘Ready, private?’ he said.
‘Yup,’ said Jade.
‘On the word “long” you will hold the trigger for the count of two, and then let go. On the word “short” you will hold it down for the count of one, and likewise let go. Got that?’
‘Yup, el-tee. Could hold it down for lots, if you like,’ said Jade. ‘One, two, many, lots. I’m good at countin’. High as you like. Jus’ say der word.’
‘Two will suffice,’ said Blouse. ‘And you, Private Goom, I want you to take my telescope and look for long and short flashes from that light over there, understand?’
Polly saw Wazzer’s face and said quickly: ‘I’ll do that, sir!’
A small white hand was laid on her arm. In the miserly glimmer of the dark lantern, Wazzer’s eyes glowed with the light of certainty. ‘The Duchess guides our footsteps now,’ she said, and took the telescope from the lieutenant. ‘What we are doing is her work, sir.’
‘Is it? Oh. Well . . . that’s good,’ said Blouse. \
‘She will bless this instrument of far seeing that I may use it,’ said Wazzer.
‘Indeed?’ said Blouse nervously. ‘Well done. Now . . . are we ready? Send as follows . . . long . . . long . . . short . . .’
The shutter in the tube clicked and rattled as the message flashed out across the sky. When the troll lowered the tube, there was half a minute of darkness. And then: ‘Short . . . long . · ·’ Wazzer began.
Blouse held the code book up to his face, his lips moving as he read by the pinpoints of light escaping from the loins of the box. ‘W . . . R . . . U,’ he said. ‘And M. . .S. . .G. . .P. . .R. . .’
‘That’s not a message!’ said Jackrum.
‘On the contrary, they want to know where we are, because they’re having trouble seeing our light,’ said Blouse. ‘Send as follows . . . short. . .’
‘I protest, sir!’
Blouse lowered the book. ‘Sergeant, I am about to tell our spy that we are seven miles further away than we really are, do you understand? And I am certain they will believe us because I have artificially reduced the light output from our device, do you understand? And I will tell them that their spies have encountered a very large party of recruits and deserters heading for the mountains and are in pursuit, do you understand? I am making us invisible, do you understand? Do you understand, Sergeant Jackrum?’
The squad held their breath.
Jackrum drew himself stiffly to attention. ‘Fully understood, sir!’ he said.
‘Very well!’
Jackrum continued at attention as the messages were exchanged, like a naughty pupil forced to stand by the teacher’s desk.
Messages flashed across the sky, from hilltop to hilltop. Lights flickered. The clacks tube rattled. Wazzer called out the longs and shorts. Blouse scribbled in the book. ‘S . . . P . . . P . . . 2,’ he said aloud. ‘Hah. That’s an order to remain where we are.’
‘More flashes, sir,’ said Wazzer.
‘T . . . Y . . . E . . . 3 . . .’ said Blouse, still making notes. ‘That’s “be ready to give aid”. N. . .V. . .A. . .S. . .N. . . That’s . . .’
‘That’s not a code, sir!’ said Polly.
‘Private, send as follows right now!’ Blouse croaked. ‘Long . . . long . . .’
The message went. They watched, while the dew fell and, overhead, the stars came out and twinkled messages no one ever tried to read.
The clacks went silent.
‘Now we leave as soon as possible,’ said Blouse. He gave a little cough. ‘I believe the phrase is “Let us get the heck out of here”.’
‘Close, sir,’ said Polly. ‘Quite . . . close.’
There was an old, very old Borogravian song with more Zs and Vs in it than any lowlander could pronounce. It was called ‘Plogviehze!’ It meant ‘The Sun Has Risen! Let’s Make War!’ You needed a special kind of history to get all that in one word.
Sam Vimes sighed. The little countries here fought because of the river, because of idiot treaties, because of royal rows, but mostly they fought because they had always fought. They made war, in fact, because the sun came up.
This war had tied itself in a knot.
Downriver, the valley narrowed to a canyon before the Kneck plunged over a waterfall a quarter of a mile high. Anyone trying to get up through the jagged mountains there would find themselves in a world of gorges, knife-edged ridges, permanent ice and even more permanent death. Anyone trying to cross the Kneck into Zlobenia now would be butchered on the shore. The only way out of the valley was back along the Kneck, which would put an army under the shadow of the keep. That had been fine when the keep was in Borogravian hands. Now that it had been captured, they’d be passing in range of their own weapons.