Discworld 30 - Monstrous Regiment (35 page)

 
 
  
An hour after that, the door was unlocked. A young man in a major’s uniform stepped
inside.
Oh well, let’s go on as we started, Polly thought. She leapt to her feet. ‘Squaddd . . . tennn .
. . hut!’
With reasonable speed, the squad at least managed to stand up straight and in a line. The
major acknowledged her by tapping the peak of his cap with a stick. It was definitely thinner
than an inch.
‘Stand easy . . . corporal, isn’t it?’ he said.
‘Yessir.’ That sounded promising.
‘I am Major Clogston, of the Provost’s office,’ said the major. ‘And I’d like you to tell me
all about it. About everything. I will make notes, if you don’t mind.’
‘What’s this about?’ said Tonker.
‘Ah, you’d be . . . Private Halter,’ said Clogston. ‘I’ve already spoken at length to
Lieutenant Blouse.’ He turned, nodded at the guard hovering in the doorway, and shut the
door. He also closed the hatch.
‘You are going to be tried,’ he said, sitting down on the spare bunk. ‘The politicos want
you to be tried by a full Nugganatic court, but that would be tricky here, and no one wants
this to go on for any longer than it has to. Besides, there has been an . . . unusual event.
Someone has sent a communique to General Froc asking about you all by name. At least,’ he
added, ‘by your surnames.’
‘Was that Lord Rust, sir?’
‘No, it was someone called William de Worde. I don’t know if you’ve run across his
newspaper thing? We’re wondering how he knew you were captured.’
‘Well, we didn’t tell him!’ said Polly.
‘It makes things a little . . . tricky,’ said Clogston. ‘Although, from your point of view, a lot
more hopeful. There are those members of the army who are, let us say, considering the
future of Borogravia. That is, they would like there to be one. My job is to present your case
to the tribunal.’
‘Is that a court martial?’ said Polly.
‘No, they’re not that stupid. Calling it a court martial would indicate that they accept that
you are soldiers.’
‘You did,’ said Shufti.
‘De facto is not dejure,’ said Clogston. ‘Now, as I said . . . tell me your story, Miss Perks.’
‘That’s Corporal, thank you!’
‘I apologize for the lapse. Now . . . go on . . .’ Clogston opened his bag and produced a pair
of half-moon spectacles, which he put on, and took out a pencil and something white and
square. ‘Whenever you’re ready?’ he added.
‘Sir, are you really going to write on a jam sandwich?’ said Polly.
‘What?’ The major looked down, and laughed. ‘Oh. No. Excuse me. I really mustn’t miss
meals. Blood sugar, you know . . .’
‘Only it’s oozing, sir. Don’t mind us. We’ve eaten.’

 
 
  
It took an hour, with many interruptions and corrections, and two more sandwiches. The
major used up quite a lot of notebook, and occasionally had to stop and stare at the ceiling.
‘. . . and then we were thrown in here,’ said Polly, sitting back.
‘Pushed, really,’ said Igorina. ‘Nudged.’
‘Mmm,’ said Clogston. ‘You say Corporal Strappi, as you knew him, was . . . suddenly
very ill at the thought of going into battle?’
‘Yessir.’
‘And in the tavern in Plün you really kneed Prince Heinrich in the fracas?’
‘In or about the fracas, sir. And I didn’t know it was him at the time, sir.’
‘I see you haven’t mentioned the attack on the hilltop where, according to Lieutenant
Blouse, your prompt action got the enemy code book . . .’
‘Not really worth mentioning, sir. We didn’t do much with it.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Because of you and that nice man from the newspaper the alliance has
had two regiments trotting around in the mountains after some guerrilla leader called “Tiger”.
Prince Heinrich insisted, and is in fact in command. He is, you could say, a sore loser. Very
sore, according to rumour.’
‘The newspaper writer believed all that stuff?’ said Polly, amazed.
‘I don’t know, but he certainly wrote it down. You say Lord Rust offered to let you all go
home quietly?’
‘Yessir.’
‘And the consensus was that he could . . .’
‘Stick it up his jumper, sir.’
‘Oh, yes. I couldn’t read my own writing. J . . . U . . . M . . .’ Clogston carefully wrote the
word in capital letters, and then said: ‘I am not saying this, I am not here, but some . . . senior
. . . people on our side are wondering if you would just quietly go . . . ?’
The question hung in the air like a corpse from a beam.
‘I’ll put that down as “jumper” too, then, shall I?’ said Clogston.
‘Some of us have got nowhere to go to,’ said Tonker.
‘Or no one to go with,’ said Shufti.
‘We haven’t done anything wrong,’ said Polly.
‘Jumper it is, then,’ said the major. He folded up his little spectacles and sighed. ‘They
won’t even tell me what charges are going to be made.’
‘Being Bad Girls,’ said Tonker. ‘Who are we fooling, sir? The enemy wanted just to be
quietly rid of us, and the general wants the same thing. That’s the trouble about the good guys
and the bad guys. They’re all guys!’
‘Would we have got a medal, sir, if we’d been men?’ Shufti demanded.
‘Yep. Certainly. And Blouse would have been promoted on the spot, I imagine. But right
now we’re at war, and this might not be the time—’
‘—to thank a bunch of Abominable women?’ Polly suggested.

 
 
  
Clogston smiled. ‘I was going to say “to lose concentration”. It’s the political branch who
are pushing for this, of course. They want to stop word getting around. And high command
want this over quickly for the same reason.’
‘When is all this going to start?’ said Polly.
‘In about half an hour.’
‘This is stupid!’ said Tonker. ‘They’re in the middle of a war and they’re going to take the
time to hold a trial for a few women who haven’t even done anything wrong?’
‘The general has insisted,’ said Clogston. ‘He wants this cleared out of the way.’
‘And what authority has this tribunal got?’ said Polly coldly.
‘Thousands of men under arms,’ said Clogston. ‘Sorry. The trouble is, when you say to a
general “You and whose army?” he just has to point out of the window. But I intend to prove
that the meeting should be a court martial. You all kissed the Duchess? You took the shilling?
I say that makes it military business.’
‘And that’s good, is it?’
‘Well, it means there are procedures. The last Abomination from Nuggan was against
jigsaw puzzles. They break the world into pieces, he says. That’s making people think, at last.
The army may be crazy, but at least it’s crazy by numbers. It’s reliably insane. Er, your
sleeping friend . . . will you leave her here?’
‘No,’ said the squad, as one woman.
‘She needs my constant attention,’ said Igorina.
‘If we leave her she might have a sudden attack of vanishing without a trace,’ said Tonker.
‘We stick together,’ said Polly. ‘We don’t leave a man behind.’
The room chosen for the tribunal was a ballroom. More than half the keep had been taken
back, Polly learned, but the distribution of ground was erratic. The alliance still held the
central buildings, and the armoury, but were entirely surrounded by Borogravian forces. The
current prize to fight for was the main gate complex, which hadn’t been built to withstand
attack from inside. What was happening out there now was a brawl, a midnight bar fight but
on a huge scale. And, since there were various war engines atop the towers now occupied by
either side, the keep was shooting at itself, in the finest traditions of the circular firing squad.
The floor in here smelled of polish and chalk. Tables had been pushed together to make a
rough semicircle. There must have been more than thirty officers, Polly thought. Then she
saw the other tables behind the semicircles, and the maps, and the people scurrying in and
out, and realized that this was not just about them. This was a war-room.
The squad were marched in, and stood at attention. Igorina had browbeaten a couple of
guards to carry Wazzer on a stretcher. That circle of stitches under her eye was worth more
than a colonel’s pips. No soldier wanted to be on the wrong side of the Igors.
They waited. Occasionally an officer would glance at them, and go back to looking at a
map, or talking. Then Polly saw some whispering going on, heads turned again, and there
was a drift towards the semicircle of seats. There was a definite sense that here was a
tiresome chore that, regrettably, had to be done.

 
 
  
General Froc did not look directly at the squad until he had taken his seat in the centre of
the group and adjusted his papers neatly. Even then, his eye passed over them quickly, as if it
was afraid to stop. Polly had never seen him before. He was a handsome man, and still had a
fine head of white hair. A scar down one side of his face had just missed an eye, and showed
up against the wrinkles.
‘Things are moving well,’ he said, to the room at large. ‘We have just heard that a flying
column led by the remnant of the Tenth are closing on the keep and attacking the main gates
from outside. Someone must have seen what is happening. The army is on the move!’
There was a certain amount of refined cheering at this, none of it from the squad. The
general glanced at them again.
‘Is this all of them, Clogston?’ he said.
The major, who at least had a small table to himself, stood up and saluted. ‘No, sir,’ he
said. ‘We are awaiting—’
The doors opened again. Jade was brought in, chained between two much larger trolls.
Maladict and Blouse trailed behind her. It seemed that in all the rush and confusion no one
had found any trousers for Blouse, and Maladict looked slightly blurred. His chains jingled
constantly.
‘I object to the chains, sir,’ said Clogston.
The general held a whispered consultation with a few of the other officers. ‘Yes, we do not
want undue formality,’ he said, nodding at the guards. ‘Remove them. You trolls can go. I
just want the guards to remain on the door. Now, let us proceed. This really shouldn’t take
too long. Now then, you people,’ he settled himself in his chair, ‘this really is very simple.
With the exception of Lieutenant Blouse, you will agree to be returned to your homes and
placed in the charge of a responsible male, understood? And no more will be said about this
matter. You have showed considerable spirit, there is no doubt about that, but it was
misplaced. We are not ungrateful, however. We understand that none of you is married and
so we will present you all with suitable, indeed, with handsome dowries—’
Polly saluted. ‘Permission to speak, sir?’
Froc stared at her, and then looked pointedly at Clogston.
‘You’ll have a chance to speak later, corporal,’ said the major.
‘But what exactly have we done wrong, sir?’ said Polly. ‘They should tell us.’
Froc looked at the far end of the row of chairs. ‘Captain?’ he said.
A short officer got to his feet. In Polly’s face, the tide of recognition raced across the
mudflats of hatred.
‘Captain Strappi, political division, sir—’ he began, and stopped at the groan from the
squad. When it had died away he cleared his throat, and went on: ‘Twenty-seven
Abominations have been committed under Nugganatic law, sir. I suspect there have been
many more. Under military law, sir, we have the simple fact that they posed as men in order
to join up. I was there, sir, and saw it all.’
‘Captain Strappi, may I congratulate you on your rapid promotion?’ said Lieutenant
Blouse.
‘Yes, indeed, captain,’ said Clogston. ‘Apparently you were a humble corporal only a few
days ago?’

 
 
  
Plaster dust drifted down again as something heavy struck the wall outside. Froc brushed it
off his paperwork.
‘Not one of ours, I hope,’ he said, to a certain amount of laughter. ‘Do go ahead, captain.’
Strappi turned to the general. ‘As you know, sir, it is occasionally necessary for us in the
political division to assume a lower rank in order to gain intelligence. Covered under the
Regulations, sir,’ he added.
The look that General Froc gave him stirred a little teacup of hope in Polly’s breast. No
one could like something like Strappi, not even a mother. Then the general turned back to
Clogston.
‘Is this germane, major?’ he said testily. ‘We know they disguised themselves as—’
‘—women, sir,’ said Clogston smoothly. ‘That’s all we know, sir. Apart from Captain
Strappi’s assertion, and I intend to suggest later that this is tainted, I haven’t yet heard any
evidence that they have dressed in any other way.’
‘We have the evidence of our own eyes, man!’
‘Yes, sir. They’re wearing dresses, sir.’
‘And they’re practically bald!’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Clogston. He picked up a thick book, dripping with bookmarks. ‘Book of
Nuggan, sir: “It is a Beatitude unto Nuggan that An Woman shall wear her hair short, that the
amorous propensities of men be not therefore inflamed.” ’
‘I don’t see a lot of bald women around!’ snapped Froc.
‘Yes, sir. It is one of those utterances that people find somewhat tricky, like the one about
not sneezing. I should say at this point, sir, that I intend to show that Abominations are
routinely committed by all of us. We have got into the habit of ignoring them, in fact, which
opens up an interesting debate. In any case, short hair is Nugganatically correct. In short, sir,
and in short hair, the ladies appear to have been involved in nothing more than a little
laundry, a kitchen accident and the release of your good self from the cells.’
‘I saw them!’ snarled Strappi. ‘They looked like men and they acted like men!’
‘Why were you in the recruiting party, captain?’ said Major Clogston. ‘I would not have
thought one of those would have been a hotbed of seditious activity?’
‘Is that a relevant question, major?’ said the general.
‘I don’t know, sir,’ said Clogston. ‘That’s why I asked. I don’t think we would wish it to be
said that these ladies had not been given a fair hearing?’
‘Said by whom?’ said Froc. ‘My officers can be relied upon to be discreet.’
‘Said by the ladies themselves, sir?’
‘Then we must require that they do not speak to anyone!’
‘Oh, I say!’ said Blouse.
‘And how will you enforce this, sir?’ said Clogston. ‘Against these women who, we are
agreed, stole you out of the jaws of the enemy?’
There was some muttering amongst the officers.
‘Major Clogston, did you have lunch?’ said the general.

 
 
  
‘No, sir.’
‘Colonel Vester said you become a little . . . erratic when you miss meals . . .’
‘No, sir. I become tetchy, sir. But I think a little tetchiness is called for right now. I put a
question to Captain Strappi, sir.’
‘Very well, captain, perhaps you will tell us why you were with that recruiting party?’ said
the general wearily.
‘I was . . . investigating a soldier, sir. A non-commissioned officer. Our attention had been
drawn to irregularities in his files, sir, and where there are irregularities we generally find
sedition. I hesitate to talk about this, sir, because this sergeant has been of some service to
yourself—’
‘Hrumph!’ said the general loudly. ‘This is not a matter for discussion here, I think.’
‘It was just that according to the files, several officers had helped—’ Strappi went on.
‘Hrumph! Not matters for this court, captain! Are we agreed, gentlemen?’
‘Yes, sir, it was just that the major asked me and I—’ Strappi began, bewildered.
‘Captain, I suggest you learn what a hrumph means!’ roared Froc.
‘So what were you looking for when you rummaged through our stuff?’ said Polly, as
Strappi shrank.
‘Mmmmmy cccccoffee!’ said Maladict. ‘Yyyyyou ssssstole mmmmmy cccccoffee!’
‘And you ran away when you were told you were going into combat, you little dog’s
pizzle!’ said Tonker. ‘Polly said you pissed your drawers!’
General Froc slammed his fist on the table, but Polly noticed that one or two officers were
trying to conceal a smile. ‘These are not matters for this inquiry!’ he said.
‘Although, sir, one or two of them seem to me to be subjects for investigation later on,’
said a colonel, further along the table. ‘The personal belongings of enlisted men may only be
searched in their presence, general. This may seem a trivial point, but men have mutinied
over it in the past. Did you, in fact, believe the . . . men to be women when you did this,
captain?’
Oh, say yes, please say yes, Polly thought, as Strappi hesitated. Because when we talk
about how those cavalrymen found us so quickly, it’ll mean you set them on a bunch of
Borogravian girls. Let’s see how that one plays in Plün! And if you didn’t know, then why
were you rummaging?
Strappi preferred the rock to the hard place. Stone clattered down in the courtyard outside,
and he had to raise his voice to make himself heard.
‘I was, er, generally suspicious of them, sir, because they were so keen—’
‘Sir, I protest!’ said Clogston. ‘Keenness is not a military vice!’
‘In moderation, certainly,’ said Froc. ‘And you found evidence of some sort, did you?’
‘I did find a petticoat, sir,’ said Strappi, feeling his way with care.
‘Then why didn’t you—’ Froc began, but Strappi interrupted.
‘I did serve for a while with Captain Wrigglesworth, sir,’ he said.