Monstrous Regiment

“Yes, Perks, that is the whole idea.”

“Then… maybe we don’t have to go all the way to that hill, sir? The light is being aimed towards us, sir.”

They all turned. The hill they were skirting loomed above them.

“Well done, Perks!” Blouse whispered. “Let’s go, sergeant!” He swung himself off the horse, which automatically stepped sideways to make sure that he fell over when he landed.

“Right you are, sir!” said Jackrum, helping him up. “Maladict, you take Goom and Halter and circle round to the left, the rest go round to the right—not you, Carborundum, no offence, but this has got to be quiet, okay? You stay here. Perks, you come with me—”

“I shall come too, sergeant,” said Blouse, and only Polly saw Jackrum grimace.

“Good idea, sir!” said the sergeant. “I suggest you—I suggest Perks and I come with you. Everyone got that? Get to the top neat and quiet and no one, no one moves until you hear my signal—”

“My signal,” said Blouse firmly.

“That’s what I meant, sir. Quick and quiet! Hit ’em hard but I want at least one left alive! Go!”

The two teams fa

The trees thi

She was sure, too, that she could hear a faint clicking noise.

A tree extended a hand and pulled her into its shadow. “Don’t you say a bleedin’ word,” hissed Jackrum. “Where’s the rupert?”

“Don’t know, sarge!”

“Damn! You can’t let a rupert run around loose, there’s no tellin’ what he might take it into his little head to do, now he’s got the idea he’s in charge! You’re ’is minder! Find ’im!”

Polly slithered back down the slope and found Blouse steadying himself against a tree, wheezing gently.

“Ah… Perks,” he panted. “My asthma seems to… be… coming back…”

“I’ll help you up, sir,” said Polly, grabbing his hand and tugging him forward. “Could you wheeze a little more quietly, sir?”

By degrees, dragging and pushing, she bundled the man up to Jackrum’s tree.

“Glad you could join us, sir!” hissed the sergeant, face contorted into an expression of maddened affability. “If you’d care to wait here, Perks and me will crawl up the—”

“I’m coming too, sergeant,” Blouse insisted.

Jackrum hesitated. “Yessir,” he said. “But with respect, sir, I know about skirmishing—”

“Let’s go, sergeant,” said Blouse, dropping flat and begi

“Yessir,” muttered Jackrum darkly.

Polly eased her way forward, too. The grass here was shorter, rabbit-nibbled, with small bushes here and there. She concentrated on keeping the noise down, and aimed for the clicking. The smell of chemical smoke grew stronger. It hung in the air around her. And, as she moved forward, she saw light, little specks of it. She raised her head.

There were three men a few feet away, silhouetted against the night. One of them was holding a large pipe, about five feet long, balanced on his shoulder at one end and on a tripod at the other. That end was aimed at the distant hill. On the other end, a foot or so behind the man’s head, was a big square box. Light was leaking from joints in this; from a little stovepipe chimney on the top of it, heavy smoke poured out.

“Perks, on the count of three,” said Jackrum, on Polly’s right. “One—”

“As you were, sergeant,” said Blouse quietly, on her left.

Polly saw Jackrum’s big florid face turn with an expression of astonishment. “Sir?”

“Hold position,” said Blouse. Above them, the clicking continued.

Milit’ry secrets, thought Polly. Spies! Enemies! And we’re just watching! It was like seeing blood drain from an artery.

“Sir!” hissed Jackrum, rage smoking off him.

“Hold position, sergeant. That is an order,” said Blouse calmly.

Jackrum subsided, but only into the deceptive calm of a volcano waiting to explode.

The relentless chatter of the clacks went on. It seemed to go on for ever. Beside Polly, Sergeant Jackrum seethed and fretted like a dog on a leash.

The clicking stopped. Polly heard a distant murmur of conversation.

“Sergeant Jackrum,” whispered Blouse, “you may ‘get them’ with all speed!”

Jackrum exploded out of the grass like a partridge.

“All right, my lads! Up boys and at ’em!”

Polly’s first thought, as she leapt up and ran, was that the distance was suddenly a lot wider than it had appeared.

All three men had turned at the sound of Jackrum’s cry. The one with the clacks tube was already dropping it and reaching for a sword, but Jackrum was bearing down on him like a landslide. The man made the mistake of standing his ground. There was a brief clash of swords and then a melee, and Sergeant Jackrum was a sufficiently deadly melee all by himself.

The second man flew past Polly but she was ru

“Don’t let him swallow!” Polly yelled.

Maladict’s arm shot up, and lifted the struggling man aloft by his throat.

It would have been a perfect operation had not the rest of the squad arrived, having put all their effort into ru

Maladict went down as his captive kicked him in the chest, and the man tried to scramble away, ca

He had a dagger out and waved it wildly in front of her while he grasped his throat with his other hand and made choking noises.

She knocked the knife away, ran behind him and slapped him on the back as hard as she could. He fell forward.

Before she could grab him a hand lifted him bodily and Jackrum’s voice roared: “Can’t have the poor man chokin’ to death, Perks!”

His other hand punched the man in the stomach with a noise like meat hitting a slab.

The man’s eyes crossed and something large and white flew out of his mouth and shot over Jackrum’s shoulder.

Jackrum dropped him and turned on Blouse.

“Sir, I protest, sir!” he said, quiyering with anger. “We lay there and watched these devils sending who knows what messages, sir! Spies, sir! We could’ve got ’em right there and then, sir!”

“And then, sergeant?” said Blouse.

“What?”

“Don’t you think the people they were talking to would wonder what had happened if the messages had stopped in mid-flow?” said the lieutenant.

“Even so, sir—”

“Whereas now we have their device, sergeant, and their masters don’t know we have it,” said Blouse.

“Yeah, well, but you said they was sending messages in code, sir, and—”

“Er, I think we have their cipher book as well, sarge,” said Maladict, stepping forward with the white object in his hand. “That man tried to eat it, sarge. Rice paper. But he rushed his food, you might say.”

“And you dislodged it, sergeant, and probably saved his life. Well done!” said Blouse.

“But one of ’em got away, sir,” said Jackrum. “He’ll soon get to—”

“Sergeant?”

Jade was rising over the grass. As she plodded nearer they saw she was dragging a man by one foot. When she was closer it was obvious that the man was dead. Living people have more head.

“I heard the shoutin’ and he come ru