Strappi said nothing.
"However," said the lieutenant, fumbling under his soaking cloak, "I do have a package here for you, Sergeant Jackrum. A very welcome one, I've no doubt."
Jackrum took the packet gingerly. "Thank you, sir, I'll look at this later on - " he began.
"On the contrary, Sergeant Jackrum!" said Blouse. "Your last recruits should see this, since you are both a soldier and, as it were, a 'father of soldiers'! And so it's only right that they see a fine soldier get his reward: an honourable discharge, sergeant!" Blouse spoke the words as if they had cream and a little cherry on top.
Apart from the rain, the only sound now was Jackrum's pudgy finger slowly ripping open the package.
"Oh," he said, like a man in shock. "Good. A picture of the Duchess. That's eighteen I have now. Oh, and, oo, a piece of paper saying it's a medal, so it's looks like we've even run out of pot metal now. Oh, and my discharge with a printing of the Duchess's very own signature itself!" He turned the packet over and shook it. "Not my three months' back pay, though."
"Three loud hurrahs for Sergeant Jackrum!" said the lieutenant to the rain and wind. "Hip-hip - "
"But I thought we needed every man, sir!" said Jackrum.
"Judging by all the notes pinned on that packet, it has been following you around for years, sergeant," said Blouse. "You know the military. That is your official discharge, I am afraid. I cannot rescind it. I am sorry."
"But - " Jackrum began.
"It bears the Duchess's signature, sergeant. Will you argue with that? I said I am sorry. In any case, what would you do? We will not be sending out any more recruiting parties."
"What? But we always need men, sir!" Jackrum protested. "And I'm fit and well again, got the stamina of a horse - "
"You were the only man to return with recruits, sergeant. That is how the matter is."
The sergeant hesitated for a moment, and then saluted. "Yessir! Very good, sir! Will see the new lads settled in, sir! Pleasure to have served, sir!"
"Can I ask something?" said Maladict.
"You do not address an officer directly, private," snapped Jackrum.
"No, let the man speak, sergeant," said the lieutenant. "These are... unusual times, after all. Yes, my man?"
"Did I hear you say we're going into battle without training, sir?"
"Oh, well, most of you will almost certainly be pikemen, haha," said the lieutenant nervously. "Not a lot of training there, eh? You just need to know which end is which, haha." He looked as though he wanted to die.
"Pikemen?" said Maladict, looking puzzled.
"You heard the lieutenant, Private Maladict," snapped the sergeant.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," said Maladict, stepping back into the ranks.
"Are there any more questions?" said Blouse, looking along the line. "Jolly good, then. We leave by the last boat, at midnight. Carry on, sergeant... for now. What was the other thing... oh, yes. And I shall need a batman."
"Volunteers to be the lieutenant's batman step forward! Not you, Private Maladict!" snapped the sergeant.
No one moved.
"Oh, come now," said the lieutenant.
Polly slowly raised a hand. "What's a batman, sir?"
The sergeant grinned mirthlessly. "Fair question," he said. "A batman is, like, a personal servant who takes care of the officer. Fetches his meals to him, sees he's smartly turned out, that style of thing. So's he is free to perform his duties more adequatelier."
Igor stepped forward. "Igorth are uthed to thervice, thargeant," he said.
Using the amazing powers of deafness and restricted vision sometimes available even to the most nervous officers, the lieutenant appeared not to notice him. He looked fixedly at Polly.