Monstrous Regiment - Terry Pratchett [82]
“I might try it with half a dozen, Sergeant.”
Jackrum’s eyes bulged.
“Really, sir? What’ll Private Goom do? Tremble at them? Young Igor will stitch ’em up, will he? Private Halter will give ’em a nasty look? They’re promising lads, sir, but they’re not men.”
“General Tacticus said the fate of a battle may depend upon the actions of one man in the right place, Sergeant,” said Blouse calmly.
“And having a lot more soldiers than the other bugger, sir,” Jackrum insisted. “Sir, we should get to the rest of the army. Maybe it’s trapped, maybe it isn’t. All that stuff about them not wanting to slaughter us, sir, that makes no sense. The idea is to win, sir. If the rest of ’em have stopped attacking, it’s because they’re frightened of us. We should be down there. That’s the place for young recruits, sir, where they can learn. The enemy is looking for ’em, sir!”
“If General Froc is among those captured, the Keep will be where he is held,” said Blouse. “I believe he was the first officer you served under as sergeant, am I right?”
Jackrum hesitated. “That’s right, sir,” he said eventually. “And he was the dumbest lieutenant I’ve ever met, bar one.”
“I am positive there is a secret entrance into the Keep, Sergeant.”
Polly’s memory nudged her. If Paul was alive, he was in the Keep.
She caught Shufti’s eye. The girl nodded. She’d been thinking along the same lines. She didn’t talk much about her…fiancé, and Polly wondered how official the arrangement was.
“Permission to speak, Sarge?” she said.
“Okay, Perks.”
“I’d like to try to find a way into the Keep, Sarge.”
“Perks, are you volunteering to attack the biggest, strongest castle within five hundred miles? Single-handed?”
“I’ll go, too,” said Shufti.
“Oh, two of you?” said Jackrum. “Oh, well, that’s all right then!”
“I’ll go,” said Wazzer. “The Duchess has told me that I should.”
Jackrum looked down at Wazzer’s thin little face and watery eyes, and sighed. He turned back to Blouse.
“Let’s get a move on, sir, shall we? We can talk about this later. At least we’re headed to Kneck, first stop on the road to hell. Perks and Igor, you take point. Maladict?”
“Yo!”
“Er…you scout on ahead.”
“I hear ya!”
“Good.”
As the vampire walked past Polly, the world, just for a moment, changed; the forest became greener, the sky grayer, and she heard a noise overhead, like “whopwhopwhop.” And then it was gone.
Vampire hallucinations are contagious, she thought. What’s going on in his head?
She hurried forward with Igorina, and they set off again through the forest.
Birds sang. The effect was peaceful, if you didn’t know about birdsong, but Polly could recognize the alarm calls close by and the territorial threats far off and, everywhere, the preoccupation with sex. That took the edge off the pleasure.*
“Polly?” said Igorina.
“Hmm?”
“Could you kill someone if you had to?”
Polly came right back to the here and now. “What sort of question is that to ask anyone?”
“I think it’s the sort you’d ask a tholdier,” said Igorina.
“I don’t know. If they were attacking me, I suppose. Hurt them hard enough to keep them lying down, anyway. And you?”
“We have a great respect for life, Polly,” said Igorina solemnly. “It’s easy to kill thomeone, and almost impossible to bring them back again.”
“Almost?”
“Well, if you don’t have a really good lightning rod. And even if you have, they’re never quite the same. Cutlery tends to stick to them.”
“Igorina, why are you here?”
“The clan isn’t very…keen on girls getting too involved in the Great Work,” said Igorina, looking downcast. “‘Thtick to your needlework,’ my mother keeps saying. Well, that’s all very fine, but I know I’m good at the actual incisions as well. Especially