"Oil" whispered Polly.
The shadow turned. "Ozzer? It's me, Maladict," it said. "Sarge sent me to see if you needed help."
"Bloody Jackrum left me surrounded by armed men!" Polly hissed.
"And?"
"Well, I... knocked two of them out," she said, feeling as she said it that this rather spoilt her case as a victim. "One went over the road, though."
"I think we got that one," said Maladict. "Well, I say 'got'... Tonker nearly gutted him. There's a girl with what I'd call unresolved issues." He turned round. "Let's see... seven horses, seven men. Yep."
"Tonker?" said Polly.
"Oh, yes. Hadn't you spotted her? She went mad when the man charged at Lofty. Now, let's have a look at your gentlemen, shall we?" said Maladict, heading for the inn door.
"But Lofty and Tonker..." Polly began, running to keep up. "I mean, the way they act, they... I thought she was his girl... but I thought Tonker... I mean, I know Lofty is a gi - "
Even in the dark, Maladict's teeth gleamed as he smiled. "The world's certainly unfolding itself for you, eh? Ozzer? Every day, something new. Cross-dressing now, I see."
"What?"
"You are wearing a petticoat, Ozzer," said Maladict, stepping into the bar. Polly looked down guiltily and started to tug it off, and then thought: hang on a moment...
The sergeant had managed to pull himself up against the bar, where he was being sick. The captain was groaning on the floor.
"Good evening, gentlemen!" said the vampire. "Please pay attention. I am a reformed vampire, which is to say, I am a bundle of suppressed instincts held together with spit and coffee. It would be wrong to say that violent, tearing carnage does not come easily to me. It's not tearing your throats out that doesn't come easily to me. Please don't make it any harder."
The sergeant pushed himself away from the bar top and took a muzzy swing at Maladict. Almost absent-mindedly, Maladict leaned away from it and then returned a roundhouse blow that knocked him over.
"The captain looks bad," he said. "What did he try to do to poor little you?"
"Patronize me," said Polly, glaring at Maladict.
"Ah," said the vampire.
Maladict knocked softly on the barracks door. It opened a fraction, and then all the way. Carborundum lowered his club. Wordlessly, Polly and Maladict dragged the two cavalrymen inside. Sergeant Jackrum was sitting on a stool by the fire, drinking a mug of beer.
"Well done, lads," he said. "Put 'em with the others." He waved the mug vaguely towards the far wall, where four of the soldiers were hunched sullenly under the gaze of Tonker. They had been manacled together. The last soldier was lying on a table, with Igor at work on him with a needle and thread.
"How's he coming along, private?" said Jackrum.
"He'll be fine, tharge," said Igor. "It looked worthe than it wath, really. Jutht ath well, because until we get to the battlefield I won't get any thpareth."
"Got a couple of legs for ol' Threeparts?" said Jackrum.
"Now then, sarge, none of that," said Scallot evenly. He was sitting on the other side of the fireplace. "You just leave me their horses and saddles. Your lads could do with their sabres, I've no doubt."
"They were looking for us, sarge," said Polly. "We're just a bunch of untrained recruits and they were looking for us. I could've been killed, sarge!"
"No, I know talent when I sees it," said Jackrum. "Well done, lad. Had to piss off myself, on account of a big man in full enemy uniform isn't easy to miss. Besides, you lads needed to be woke up. That's milit'ry thinking, that is."
"But if I hadn't..." Polly hesitated. "If I hadn't tricked them, they might've killed the lieutenant!"
"See? There's always a positive side, any way you look at it," said Scallot.
The sergeant stood up, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and hitched up his belt. He ambled over to the captain, reached down, and lifted him up by his jacket.
"Why were you looking for these boys, sir?" he enquired.