Monstrous Regiment

Shufti had raised a hand. “Can I show you something?” she said. Polly didn’t turn, but watched the captain’s face as, beside Polly, cloth rustled. She couldn’t believe it. Shufti was raising her skirt…

“Oh,” said the captain, sitting back in his chair. His face went red.

There was an explosion from Tonker, but it was an explosion of tears. They came out accompanied by a long, mournful wail, as she threw herself onto the floor.

“We walked so-oo far! We lay in ditches to hide from soldiers! There’s no food! We want to work! You called us boys! Why are you so-oo cruel?”

Polly knelt down and half picked her up, patting her on the back as Tonker’s shoulders heaved with the force of her sobs.

“It’s been very hard for all of us,” she said to the red-faced captain.

“If you can take him down I can garrotte the other one with my apron string,” whispered Tonker in her ear, between howls.

“Have you seen everything you wish to see?” said Polly to the blushing captain, every syllable tinkling with ice.

“Yes! No! Yes! Please!” said the captain, giving the guard the agonized glance of a man who knows that he’s going to be the laughing stock of the whole fort inside the hour. “Once was quite—I mean, I’ve seen… look, I’m completely satisfied. Private, go and fetch one of the women from the laundry. I am so sorry, ladies, I… I have a job to do…”

“Do you enjoy it?” said Polly, still freezing.

“Yes!” said the captain hurriedly. “I mean, no! No, yes! We have to be careful… ah…”

The big soldier had returned, trailing a woman. Polly stared.

“Some, er, new volunteers,” said the captain, waving vaguely towards the squad. “I’m sure Mrs Enid will have some use for them… er…”

“Certainly, captain,” said the woman, curtsying demurely. Polly still stared.

“Off you go… ladies,” said the captain. “And if you’re hard workers Mrs Enid will I am sure give you a pass so’s we don’t have this trouble again… er…”

Shufti put both hands on his desk, leaned towards him and said “Boo”. His chair hit the wall.

“I may not be clever,” she said to Polly. “But I’m not stupid.”

But Polly was still staring at Lieutenant Blouse. He’d curtsied surprisingly well.

The soldier escorted them along a tu

“There you go, ladies,” he said, and slapped Blouse on the rump. “See you tonight, then, Daphne?”

“Oh, yes!” trilled Blouse.

“Five o’clock, then,” said the soldier, and ambled off down the corridor.

“Daphne?” said Polly, when the man had gone.

“My ‘nom de guerre’,” said Blouse. “I still haven’t found a way out of the lower areas but the guards all have keys and I shall have his key in my hand by half past five. Pardon?”

“I think Tonker—sorry, Magda—just bit her tongue,” said Polly.

“Her? Oh, yes. Well done for staying in character, er…”

“Polly,” said Polly.

“Good choice of name,” said Blouse, leading the way down some steps. “It’s a good common, maidservanty sort of name.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought,” said Polly gravely.

“Er… Sergeant Jackrum not with you, then?” said the lieutenant, with a trace of nervousness.

“No, sir. He said he was going to lead a charge on the main gates, sir, if we sent him a signal. I hope he doesn’t try without one.”

“Good heavens, the man’s mad,” said Blouse. “Splendid effort from the lads, though. Well done. You’d definitely pass for women to the casual observer.”

“Coming from you, Daphne, that is a big compliment,” said Polly, thinking: gosh, I’m really good at keeping a straight face.

“But you didn’t need to come after me,” said Blouse. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get a signal to you, but Mrs Enid allowed me to stay overnight, you see. The guards don’t do so many checks at night so I made use of my time to look for ways into the Upper Keep. All gated or really heavily guarded, I’m afraid. However, Private Hauptfidel has taken rather a shine to me…”

“Well done, sir!” said Polly.

“Sorry, I want to be clear, sir,” said Tonker. “You have a date with a guard.”

“Yes, and I’ll suggest we go somewhere dark and then when I’ve got what I want I shall break his neck,” said Blouse.

“Isn’t that going a bit far on a first date?” said Tonker.

“Sir, did you have any trouble getting in?” said Polly. This had been nagging at her. It seemed so unfair.

“No, not at all. I just smiled and wiggled my hips and they waved me through. What about you?”

“Oh, we had a little bit,” said Polly. “It was a bit hair—it was a bit awkward for a moment or two.”

“What did I tell you?” said Blouse triumphantly. “It’s all down to thespian ability! But you were plucky lads to try it. Come and meet Mrs Enid. A very loyal lady. The brave womenfolk of Borogravia are on our side!”

And, indeed, there was a picture of the Duchess in the alcove that served the laundry mistress for an office. Mrs Enid wasn’t a particularly large woman but she had forearms like Jade, a soaking wet apron, and the most mobile mouth Polly had ever seen. Her lips and tongue drew out every word like a big shape in the air, the laundresses, in a cavern full of hissing steam, echoes, falling water and the thud of wet clothes on stone, watched lips when ears were overwhelmed. When she was listening her mouth moved all the time, too, like someone trying to dislodge a piece of nut from a tooth. She wore her sleeves rolled up above her elbows.

She listened impassively as Blouse introduced the squad. “I see,” she said. “Right. You leave your lads here with me, sir. You ought to get back to the pressing room.”

When Blouse had bounced and wobbled back through the steam, Mrs Enid looked them all up and down, and then straight through.

“Lads,” she grunted. “Hah! That’s all he knows, eh? For a woman to wear the clothes of a man is an Abomination in the Eyes of Nuggan!”

“But we’re dressed as women, Mrs Enid,” said Polly meekly.

Mrs Enid’s mouth moved ferociously. Then she folded her arms. It was like a barricade going up against all that was ungodly.

“It’s not right,” she said. “I’ve got a son and a husband prisoner in this place and I’m working meself to the bone for the enemy just so’s I can keep an eye on ’em. They’re go

“Zlobenia will not invade,” said Wazzer confidently. “The Duchess will see to it. Be not afraid.”

Wazzer got given the sort of look she always got when someone heard her for the first time.

“Been praying, ’ave yer?” said Mrs Enid kindly.

“No, just listening,” said Wazzer.

“Nuggan talks to you, does he?”

“No. Nuggan is dead, Mrs Enid,” said Wazzer.

Polly took Wazzer’s matchstick-thin arm and said: “Excuse us a moment, Mrs Enid.” She hustled the girl behind a huge, water-driven clothes mangle. It heaved and clanked as a background to their conversation.

“Wazzer, this is getting…” Polly’s native tongue had no word for “freaky”, but if she had known about the word she would have welcomed its inclusion “…strange. You’re worrying people. You can’t just go around saying that a god is dead.”

“Gone, then. Dwindled… I think,” said Wazzer, her brow furrowing. “No longer with us…”

“We still get the Abominations.”