Monstrous Regiment

The stone walls dropped past as the platform rose.

“How thrilling!” trilled “Daphne”. “And this goes all the way up through your big castle, does it?”

“Oh, no, miss. Gotta go up through the rock first, miss. Lots of old workings and everything before we get that high.”

“Oh, I thought we were in the castle already.” Blouse gave Polly a worried look.

“No, miss. There’s just the washhouse down there, ’cos of the water. Hah, it’s a climb and a half even to the lower cellars. Lucky for you there’s this elevator, eh?”

“Wonderful, sergeant,” said Blouse, and allowed Daphne back. “How does it work?”

“It’s corporal, miss,” said the string-puller, touching his forelock. “It’s pulled up and down by pris’ners in a treadmill, miss.”

“Oh, how horrid!”

“Oh no, miss, it’s quite humane. Er… if you’re free after work, er, I could take you up and show you the mechanism…”

“That would be lovely, sergeant!”

Polly put her hand over her eyes. Daphne was a disgrace to womanhood.

The elevator rumbled upwards, quite slowly. Mostly they passed raw rock but sometimes there were ancient gratings or areas of masonry, suggestive of tu

There was a jerk, and the platform stopped moving. One of the soldiers swore under his breath, but the corporal said, “Don’t be afraid, ladies. This often happens.”

“Why should we be afraid?” said Polly.

“Well, because we’re hanging by a rope a hundred feet up the shaft and the lifting machinery’s thrown a cog.”

“Again,” said the other soldier. “Nothing works properly here.”

“Sounds like a good reason to me,” said Igorina.

“How long will it take to repair?” said Tonker.

“Hah! Last time it happened we were stuck for an hour!”

Too long, Polly thought. Too many things could happen. She looked up through the beams in the roof. The square of daylight was a long way up.

“We can’t wait,” she said.

“Oh dear, who will save us?” Daphne quavered.

“We’ll have to find a way to pass the time, eh?” said one of the guards. Polly sighed. That was one of those phrases, like “Well, lookee what we have here”, that meant things were only going to get a lot worse.

“We know how it is, ladies,” the guard went on. “Your menfolk away, and all. It’s as bad for us, too. I can’t remember when I last kissed my wife.”

“And I can’t remember when I last kissed his wife, either,” said the corporal.

Tonker jumped up, caught a beam, and chi

“Hey, you can’t do that!” said the corporal.

“Where does it say?” said Tonker. “Polly, there’s one of those filled-in tu

“You can’t get out! We’ll get into trouble!” said the corporal.

Polly pulled his sword out of his scabbard. The space was too crowded to do much with it except threaten, but she had it, not him. It made a huge difference.

“You’re already in trouble,” she said. “Please don’t force me to make it worse. Let’s get out of here. Is that okay, Daphne?”

“Um… yes, of course,” said Blouse.

The other guard laid a hand on his own sword.

“Okay, girls, this has gone—” he began, and then slumped. Shufti lowered her copper stick.

“I hope I didn’t hit him too hard,” she said.

“Who cares? Come on, I can give you all a hand up,” said Tonker.

“Igorina, could you have a look at him, and—” Shufti began nervously.

“He’s a man, and he’s groaning,” said Tonker from above. “That’s good enough for me. Come on.”

The lone guard watched as the others were womanhandled onto the beams.

“Er, excuse me,” he said to Polly, as she helped Blouse up.

“Yes? What?”

“Would you mind giving me a wallop on the back of the head?” he said, looking wretched. “So that it doesn’t look like I didn’t put up a fight against a bunch of women.”

“Why don’t you put up a fight?” said Polly, narrowing her eyes. “We’re only a bunch of women.”

“I’m not crazy!” said the guard.

“Here, let me,” said Igorina, producing her stick. “Blows to the head are potentially harmful and should not be undertaken lightly. Turn round, sir. Remove your helmet, please. Would twenty minutes’ unconsciousness be okay?”

“Yes, thanks very mu—”

The guard folded up.

“I really hope I didn’t hurt the other one,” moaned Shufti, from above.

“He’s swearing,” said Polly, removing his sword. “That sounds like he’s okay.”

She handed up the candles, and then was hauled onto the trembling roof of the elevator. When she had a firm footing in the mouth of the tu

Tonker and Lofty were already investigating the tu

“It must be cellars,” said Tonker. “I reckon they must’ve made the shaft not long ago and just walled up where it cut through. Could have done a better job, too.”

“Cellars are close to dungeons,” said Polly. “Now, pinch out one candle, because that way we’ll have light for twice as long, and then—”

“Perks, a word please?” said Blouse. “Over here?”

“Yessir.”

When they were standing a little apart from the rest of the squad, Blouse lowered his voice and said: “I don’t wish to discourage initiative, Perks, but what are you doing?”

“Er… anticipating your orders, sir.”

“Anticipating them?”

“Yessir.”

“Ah. Right. This is still small-picture stuff, is it?”

“Exactly, sir.”

“Then may orders, Perks, are to proceed with speed and caution to release the prisoners.”

“Well done, sir. We’ll go through this… this—”

“Crypt,” said Igorina, looking round.

The candle blew out.

Somewhere ahead of them, in darkness absolute and velvet-thick, stone moved on stone.

“I wonder why this passage was sealed up?” said the voice of Blouse.

“I think I’ve stopped wondering why it was sealed up in such a hurry,” said Tonker.

“I wonder who tried to open it?” said Polly.

There was a crash of, as it might be, a heavy slab falling off an ornate tomb. It could have been half a dozen other things but, somehow, that was the image that sprang to rnind. The dead air moved a little.

“I don’t want to worry anyone,” said Shufti, “but I can hear the sound of sort of feet, sort of dragging.”

Polly remembered the man lighting the candles. He’d dropped the bundle of matches into the brass saucer of the candlestick, hadn’t he? Moving her hand slowly, she groped for them.

“If you didn’t want to worry anyone,” came the voice of Tonker from the dry, thick darkness, “why the hell did you just tell us that?”

Polly’s fingers found a sliver of wood. She raised it to her nose, and sniffed the sulphurous smell.

“I’ve got one match,” she said. “I’m going to try to light the candle again. Everyone look for a way out. Ready?”

She sidled to the invisible wall. Then she scratched the match down the stone, and yellow light filled the crypt.

Someone whimpered. Polly stared, candle forgotten. The match went out.

“O-kay,” said the subdued voice of Tonker. “Walking dead people. So?”

“The one near the archway was the late General Puhloaver!” said Blouse. “I have his book on the art of defense!”

“Best not to ask him to autograph it, sir,” said Polly, as the squad bunched together.

There was the whimpering again. It seemed to come from where Polly remembered Wazzer standing. She heard her praying. There were no words that she could make out, just a fierce and urgent whispering.

“Maybe these washing sticks can slow them down a bit?” Shufti quavered.