"Words that were stupid," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
Tonker settled slightly. "Well... all right, then," she said grudgingly. "Just so long as you know we're in this for the squad, okay? Not for the army and not for the bloody Duchess."
"That was a treasonable speech, Private Halter!" said Lieutenant Blouse.
Everyone but Polly had forgotten about him, and he stood there like an easy man to forget.
"However," he went on, "I realize we're all somewhat..." he looked down at his dress "...confused and, er, bewildered by the pace of events..."
Tonker tried to avoid Polly's eye. "Sorry, sir," she muttered, glowering.
"I must make it clear that I will not stand to hear such things repeated," said Blouse.
"No, sir."
"Good," said Polly quickly. "So let's - "
"But I will overlook it this time," Blouse went on.
Polly could see Tonker snap. The head was raised slowly. "You'll overlook it?" said Tonker. "You will overlook it?"
"Careful," said Polly, just loud enough for Tonker to hear.
"Let me tell you something about us, lieutenant," said Tonker, grinning horribly.
"We are here, private, whoever we are," snapped Polly. "Now let's find the cells!"
"Um..." said Igorina, "we're quite close, I think. I can see a sign. Um. It's at the end of this passage. Um... just behind those three rather puzzled armed men with the, um... efficient¨Clooking crossbows. Um. I think what you've just been saying was important and needed to be said. Only, um... not just now, perhaps? And not so loudly?"
Only two guards were watching them now, raising their bows cautiously. The other was running away down the passage, shouting.
The squad, as one man, or woman, shared the thoughts.
They've got bows. We haven't. They've got reinforcements behind them. We haven't. All we've got is a darkness full of the restless dead. We haven't even got a prayer any more.
Blouse made an effort, nevertheless. In the tones of Daphne he shrilled: "Oh, officers... we seem to have got lost on the way to the ladies' room..."
They were not put into a dungeon, although they were marched past plenty. There were lots of bleak stone corridors, lots of heavy doors with bars and lots and lots of bolts, and lots of armed men whose job, presumably, only became interesting if all the bolts disappeared. They were put into a kitchen. It was huge, and clearly not the kind of place where people chopped herbs and stuffed mushrooms. In a gloomy, grimy, soot-encrusted hall like this, cooks had probably catered for hundreds of hungry men. Occasionally the door was opened and shadowy figures stared in at them. No one had said anything, at any time.
"They were expecting us," muttered Shufti. The squad were sitting on the floor with their backs to a huge, ancient chopping block, except for Igorina, who was tending to the still-unconscious Wazzer.
"They couldn't have got that elevator up by now," said Polly. "I wedged that stone in good and hard."
"Then maybe the washerwomen gave us away," said Tonker. "I didn't like the look of Mrs Enid."
"It doesn't matter now, does it?" said Polly, "is that the only door?"
"There's a storeroom at the other end," said Tonker. "No exit, except a grille in the floor."
"Could we get out that way?"
"Only diced."
They stared glumly at the distant door. It had opened again, and there was some muffled conversation amongst the silhouettes beyond. Tonker had tried advancing on the open doorway, and found men with swords suddenly occupying it.
Polly turned to look at Blouse, who was slumped against the wall, staring blankly upwards.
"I'd better go and tell him," she said. Tonker shrugged.