‘Well, if you’re going to put it like that, it does theem a little far-fetched . . .’ Igorina stood up, adding, ‘I think he’ll be fine when he wakes up. Possibly a little talkative, though.’
‘Okay, lads, get some rest,’ said Jackrum, coming in. ‘Let’s give the rupert a couple of hours to muck things up, and then we can nip around the valley and slip down and join the rest of the army. Good grub and proper blankets to sleep on, hey? That’s the ticket!’
‘We don’t know he’s going to mess up, sarge,’ said Polly.
‘Oh, yeah, right, maybe he’ll have married the commander of the garrison by now, eh? Stranger things have happened, although I can’t remember when. Perks and Manickle, you’re on watch. The rest of you, get some shut-eye.’
A Zlobenian patrol went past in the distance. Polly watched it out of sight. It was turning into a fine day, warm with a bit of wind. Good drying weather. A good day to be a washerwoman. And maybe Blouse would succeed. Maybe all the guards were blind.
‘Pol?’ Shufti whispered.
‘Yes, Shuf . . . Look, what was your name back in the world?’
‘Betty. It’s Betty. Er . . . most of the Ins-and-Outs are in the keep, right?’
‘Apparently.’
‘So that’s where I’m most likely to find my fiance, yes?’
We’ve talked about that, Polly thought. ‘Could be.’
‘Might be quite hard if there’s a lot of men . . .’ said Betty, a woman with something on her mind.
‘Well, if we get as far as the prisoners and ask around they’ll be bound to know his name. What is it?’
‘Johnny,’ whispered Betty.
‘Just Johnny?’ said Polly.
‘Er . . . yes . . .’
Ah, Polly thought. I think I know how this goes . . .
‘He’s got fair hair and blue eyes, and I think he had one gold earring, and . . . and a funny-shaped . . . what d’you call it? Oh, yes . . . sort of carbuncle on his, his . . . bottom.’
‘Right. Right.’
‘Um . . . now I come to tell someone, it doesn’t sound very helpful, I suppose.’
Not unless we’re in a position to have a very unusual identity parade, Polly thought, and I can’t imagine what position that would be.
‘Not as such,’ she said.
‘He said everyone in the regiment knows him,’ Betty went on.
‘Right? Oh, good,’ said Polly. ‘All we need to do is ask.’
‘And, er, we were going to break a sixpence in half, you know, like they do, so that if he had to be away for years we’d be sure we’d got the right person ‘cos the two halves would match . . .’
‘Oh, that would be a bit of a help, I expect.’
‘Well, yes, except, well, I gave him the sixpence, and he said he’d get the blacksmith to break it in his vice, and he went off and, er, I think he got called away . . .’ Betty’s voice! trailed off.
Well, that was about what I expected, Polly thought.
‘I expect you think I’m a silly girl,’ mumbled Betty after a while.
‘A foolish woman, perhaps,’ said Polly, turning to watch the landscape intently.
‘It was, you know a whirlwind romance . . .’
‘Sounds more like a hurricane to me,’ said Polly, and Betty grinned.
‘Yes, it was a bit like that,’ she said.
Polly matched smile for smile. ‘Betty, it’s daft to talk about silly and foolish at a time like this,’ she said. ‘Where are we going to look for wisdom? To a god who hates jigsaws and the colour blue? A fossil government led by a picture? An army that thinks stubbornness is the same as courage? Compared to all that, all you’ve got wrong is timing!’
‘I don’t want to end up in the school, though,’ said Betty. ‘They took away a girl from our village and she was kicking and screaming—’
‘Then fight them!’ said Polly. ‘You’ve got a sword now, haven’t you? Fight back!’ She saw the look of horror on Betty’s face, and remembered that this wasn’t Tonker she was talking to. ‘Look, if we get out of this alive we’ll talk to the colonel. He might be able to help.’ After all, perhaps your boy really was called Johnny, she thought, perhaps he really was called away suddenly. Hope is a wonderful thing. She went on: ‘If we get out of this there’s going to be no school and no beatings. Not for you or any of us. Not if we’ve got brains. Not if we’re smart.’
Betty was almost in tears, but she managed another smile. ‘And Wazzer’s talking to the Duchess, too. She’ll fix things!’
Polly stared out at the bright, unchanging landscape, empty except for a buzzard making wide circles in the forbidden blue. I’m not sure about that,’ she said. ‘But someone up there likes us.’ .
Twilight was brief at this time of year. There had been no sign from Blouse.
‘I watched until I couldn’t see,’ said Jade, as they sat and watched Shufti make stew. ‘Some of der women dat came out was ones I saw goin’ in dis mornin’, too.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Jackrum.
‘We might be fick, sarge,’ said Jade, looking hurt, ‘but trolls have great . . . er . . . vis-you-all ack-you-it-tee. More women was going in dis evenin’, too.’
‘Night shift,’ said Tonker.
‘Oh well, he tried,’ said Jackrum. ‘With any luck he’s in a nice warm cell and they’ve found him a pair of long pants. Get your kit together, lads. We’ll creep around and into our lines and you’ll be snug in bed by midnight.’
Polly remembered what she’d said, hours ago, about fighting. You had to start somewhere. ‘I want to try the keep again,’ she said.
‘You do, Perks, do you?’ said Jackrum, with mock interest.
‘My brother’s in there.’
‘Nice safe place for him, then.’
‘He might be injured. I vote for the keep.’
‘Vote?’ said Jackrum. ‘My word, that’s a new one. Voting in the army? Who wants to get killed, lads, let’s have a show of hands? Knock it off, Perks.’
‘I’m going to try it, sarge!’
‘You are not!’
‘Try and stop me!’ The words came out before she could stop them. And that’s it, she thought, the shout heard round the world. No going back after this. I’ve run off the edge of the cliff and it’s all downhill from here.
Jackrum’s expression stayed blank for a second or two, and then he said, ‘Anyone else voting for the keep?’
Polly looked at Shufti, who blushed.
But: ‘We are,’ said Tonker. Beside her, Lofty struck a match, and held it so that it flared. That was pretty much a speech from Lofty.
‘Why, pray?’ said Jackrum.
‘We don’t want to sit around in a swamp,’ said Tonker. ‘And we don’t like being ordered around.’
‘Should have thought of that before you joined an army, lad!’
‘We aren’t lads, sarge.’
‘You are if I says you are!’
Well, it’s not as though I wasn’t expecting it, Polly thought. I’ve played this out enough times in my head. Here goes . · · ‘All right, sarge,’ she said. ‘It’s time to have it out, here and now.’
‘Ooo, er,’ said Jackrum theatrically, fishing his screwed-up paper of tobacco out of his pocket.
‘What?’
Jackrum sat down on the remains of a wall. ‘Just injecting a little sauciness into the conversation,’ he said. ‘Carry on, Perks. Have your say. I thought it’d come to this.’
‘You know I’m a woman, sarge,’ said Polly.
‘Yup. I wouldn’t trust you to shave cheese.’
The squad stared. Jackrum opened his big knife and examined the chewing tobacco as though it was the most interesting thing present.
‘So . . . er . . . what are you going to do about it?’ said Polly, feeling derailed.
‘Dunno. Can’t do anything, can I? You were born like it.’
‘You didn’t tell Blouse!’ said Polly.
‘Nope.’
Polly wanted to knock the wretched tobacco out of the sergeant’s hand. Now that she had got over the surprise, there was something offensive about this lack of reaction. It was like someone opening a door just before your battering ram hit it; suddenly you were running through the building and not certain how to stop.
‘Well, we’re all women, sarge,’ said Tonker. ‘How about that?’
Jackrum sawed at the tobacco.
‘So?’ he said, still paying attention to the job in hand.
‘What?’ said Polly.
‘Think no one else ever tried it? Think you’re the only ones? Think your ol’ sarge is deaf, blind and stupid? You could fool one another and anyone can fool a rupert, but you can’t fool Jackrum. Weren’t sure about Maladict and still ain’t, because with a vampire, who knows? And not sure about you, Carborundum, because with a troll, who cares? No offence.’