Wazzer was praying furiously. Maladict tried to stand up again, fell back onto his knees, and raised his arms imploringly to the sky.
"Get out of here while you can," he mumbled, as his teeth visibly lengthened. "I'll - "
There was a shadow, a sense of movement, and the vampire slumped forward, stunned by an eight-ounce sack of coffee beans that had dropped out of a clear sky.
Polly arrived at the farmhouse carrying Maladict on her shoulder. She made him as comfortable as possible on some ancient straw, and the squad consulted.
"Do you think we ought to try to take the sack out of his mouth?" said Shufti nervously.
"I tried, but he fights," said Polly.
"But he's unconscious!"
"He still won't let go of it! He's sucking it. I'd swear he was out cold, but he just sort of reached out and grabbed it and bit! It dropped out of a clear sky!"
Tonker stared at Wazzer. "The Duchess does room service?" she said.
"No! She says she d-didn't!"
"You get freak rainth of fish," said Igorina, kneeling down by Maladict. "I suppose it's possible that a whirlwind tore through a coffee plantation, and then possibly a lightning discharge in the upper ether - "
"At what point did it blow through a factory making small coffee sacks?" said Tonker. "Ones with a jolly turbaned man printed on them apparently saying 'Klatchian Rare Roasted! When a Pickaxe is Not Enough!'"
"Well, if you're going to put it like that, it does theem a little far-fetched..." Igorina stood up, adding, "I think he'll be fine when he wakes up. Possibly a little talkative, though."
"Okay, lads, get some rest," said Jackrum, coming in. "Let's give the rupert a couple of hours to muck things up, and then we can nip around the valley and slip down and join the rest of the army. Good grub and proper blankets to sleep on, hey? That's the ticket!"
"We don't know he's going to mess up, sarge," said Polly.
"Oh, yeah, right, maybe he'll have married the commander of the garrison by now, eh? Stranger things have happened, although I can't remember when. Perks and Manickle, you're on watch. The rest of you, get some shut-eye."
A Zlobenian patrol went past in the distance. Polly watched it out of sight. It was turning into a fine day, warm with a bit of wind. Good drying weather. A good day to be a washerwoman. And maybe Blouse would succeed. Maybe all the guards were blind.
"Pol?" Shufti whispered.
"Yes, Shuf... Look, what was your name back in the world?"
"Betty. It's Betty. Er... most of the Ins-and-Outs are in the Keep, right?"
"Apparently."
"So that's where I'm most likely to find my fianc¨¦, yes?"
We've talked about that, Polly thought. "Could be."
"Might be quite hard if there's a lot of men..." said Betty, a woman with something on her mind.
"Well, if we get as far as the prisoners and ask around they'll be bound to know his name. What is it?"
"Johnny," whispered Betty.
"Just Johnny?" said Polly.
"Er... yes..."
Ah, Polly thought. I think I know how this goes...
"He's got fair hair and blue eyes, and I think he had one gold earring, and... and a funny-shaped... what d'you call it? Oh, yes... sort of carbuncle on his, his... bottom."