"Was that Lord Rust, sir?"
"No, it was someone called William de Worde. I don't know if you've run across his newspaper thing? We're wondering how he knew you were captured."
"Well, we didn't tell him!" said Polly.
"It makes things a little... tricky," said Clogston. "Although, from your point of view, a lot more hopeful. There are those members of the army who are, let us say, considering the future of Borogravia. That is, they would like there to be one. My job is to present your case to the tribunal."
"Is that a court martial?" said Polly.
"No, they're not that stupid. Calling it a court martial would indicate that they accept that you are soldiers."
"You did," said Shufti.
"De facto is not de jure," said Clogston. "Now, as I said... tell me your story, Miss Perks."
"That's Corporal, thank you!"
"I apologize for the lapse. Now... go on..." Clogston opened his bag and produced a pair of half-moon spectacles, which he put on, and took out a pencil and something white and square. "Whenever you're ready?" he added.
"Sir, are you really going to write on a jam sandwich?" said Polly.
"What?" The major looked down, and laughed. "Oh. No. Excuse me. I really mustn't miss meals. Blood sugar, you know..."
"Only it's oozing, sir. Don't mind us. We've eaten."
It took an hour, with many interruptions and corrections, and two more sandwiches. The major used up quite a lot of notebook, and occasionally had to stop and stare at the ceiling.
"...and then we were thrown in here," said Polly, sitting back.
"Pushed, really," said Igorina. "Nudged."
"Mmm," said Clogston. "You say Corporal Strappi, as you knew him, was... suddenly very ill at the thought of going into battle?"
"Yessir."
"And in the tavern in Pl¨¹n you really kneed Prince Heinrich in the fracas?"
"In or about the fracas, sir. And I didn't know it was him at the time, sir."
"I see you haven't mentioned the attack on the hilltop where, according to Lieutenant Blouse, your prompt action got the enemy code book..."
"Not really worth mentioning, sir. We didn't do much with it."
"Oh, I don't know. Because of you and that nice man from the newspaper the Alliance has had two regiments trotting around in the mountains after some guerrilla leader called 'Tiger'. Prince Heinrich insisted, and is in fact in command. He is, you could say, a sore loser. Very sore, according to rumour."
"The newspaper writer believed all that stuff?" said Polly, amazed.
"I don't know, but he certainly wrote it down. You say Lord Rust offered to let you all go home quietly?"
"Yessir."
"And the consensus was that he could..."
"Stick it up his jumper, sir."
"Oh, yes. I couldn't read my own writing. J... U... M..." Clogston carefully wrote the word in capital letters, and then said: "I am not saying this, I am not here, but some... senior... people on our side are wondering if you would just quietly go...?"
The question hung in the air like a corpse from a beam.