"Yes, corp?"
"Any coffee in their packs?"
"Sorry, corp. Only tea."
"Damn!" Maladict thumped the tree behind him. "Hey, you went straight for the man who was swallowing the cipher. Straight for him. How come?"
"Just luck," said Polly.
"Yeah, right. Try again. I have very good night vision."
"Oh, all right. Well, the one on the left started to run and the one in the middle was dropping the clacks tube and reaching for his sword, but the one on the right thought that putting something into his mouth was more important even than fighting or running away. Satisfied?"
"You worked out all that in a couple of seconds? That was smart."
"Yeah, right. Now please forget it, okay? I don't want to be noticed. I don't particularly want to be here. I just want to find my brother. Okay?" ;Thank you, sarge!"
"But I see you're not standing in a bleedin' shadow, Perks, nor have you done anything to change your bleedin' shape, you're silhouetted against the bleedin' light and your sabre's shining like a diamond in a chimney-sweep's bleedin' ear'ole! Explain!"
"It's because of the one C, sarge!" said Polly, still staring straight ahead.
"And that is?"
"Colour, sarge! I'm wearing bleedin' red and white in a bleedin' grey forest, sarge!"
She risked a sideways glance. In Jackrum's little piggy eyes there gleamed a gleam. It was the one you got when he was secretly pleased.
"Ashamed of your lovely, lovely uniform, Perks?" he said.
"Don't want to be seen dead in it, sarge," said Polly.
"Hah. As you were, Perks."
Polly smiled, straight ahead.
When she came off guard for a bowl of game casserole, Jackrum was teaching basic swordcraft to Lofty and Tonker, using hazel sticks as swords. By the time Polly had finished he was teaching Wazzer some of the finer points of using a high-performance pistol crossbow, especially the one about not turning round with it cocked and saying "W-what is this bit for, sarge?" Wazzer handled weapons like a houseproud woman disposing of a dead mouse - at arm's length and trying not to look. But even she was better with them than Igor, who just didn't seem at home with the idea of what was, to him, d surgery.
Jade was dozing. Maladict was hanging by his knees under the roof of one of the sheds, with his arms folded across his chest; he must have been telling the truth when he said there were some aspects of being a vampire that were hard to give up.
Igor and Maladict...
She still wasn't sure about Maladict, but Igor had to be a boy, with those stitches around the head, and that face that could only be called homely.4 He was quiet, and neat, but maybe that's how Igors behaved...
She woke up with Shufti shaking her.
"We're moving! Better go and see to the rupert!"
"What? Huh? Oh... right!"
There was a bustle all around her. Polly staggered to her feet and hurried over to Lieutenant Blouse's shed, where he was standing in front of his wretched horse and holding the bridle with a lost expression.
"Ah, Perks," he said. "I'm not at all sure I'm doing this right..."
"No, sir. You've got the waffles twisted and the snoffles are upside down," said Polly, who'd often helped in the inn's yard.
"Ah, that would be why he was so difficult last night," said Blouse. "I suppose I ought to know this sort of thing, but at home we had a man to do it..."
"Let me, sir," said Polly. She untwisted the bridle with a few careful movements. "What's his name, sir?"