Even rats, if you’ve got ‘em. It’s food for the marching man, scubbo. Got some on the boil right now. You can have some of that, if you like.’
The squad brightened up.
‘Thoundth good,’ said Igor. ‘What’th in it?’
‘Boiling water,’ said the corporal. ‘It’s what we call “blind scubbo”.’
*
You could try scrounging something at the inn.’
‘Scrounge?’ said Polly.
Yeah. Scrounge. Scrounge, nick, have a lend of, borrow, thieve, lift, acquire, purrrr-loin. That’s what you’ll learn, if you’re gonna survive this war.’
‘We have to steal our food?’ said Maladict.
‘No, you can starve if that takes your fancy’ said the corporal. ‘I’ve starved a few times. There’s no future in it. Ate a man’s leg when we were snowed up in the Ibblestarn campaign but, fair’s fair, he ate mine.’
*
Lieutenant Blouse was standing in the middle of the floor in his breeches and shirtsleeves, holding a sabre. Polly was no expert in these matters, but she thought she recognized the stylish, flamboyant pose as the one beginners tend to use just before they’re stabbed through the heart by a more experienced fighter.
*
‘These are tricky times, sergeant. Command has never been so burdensome. The great General Tacticus says that in dangerous times the commander must be like the eagle and see the whole, and yet still be like the hawk and see every detail.’
Yessir,’ said Jackrum. ‘And if he acts like a common tit, sir, he can hang upside down all day and eat fat bacon.’
*
A woman always has half an onion left over, no matter what the size of the onion, the dish or the woman.
*
Jackrum stepped back. ‘We are heading for the front, lads. The war. And in a nasty war, where’s the best place to be? Apart from on the moon, o’ course? No one?’
Slowly, Jade raised a hand.
‘Go on, then,’ said the sergeant.
‘In the army, sarge,’ said the troll. ‘ ‘cos …’ She began to count on her fingers. ‘One, you got weapons an’ armour an’ dat. Two, you are surrounded by other armed men. Er … Many, youse gettin’ paid and gettin’ better grub than the people in Civilian Street. Er … Lots, if’n you gives up, you getting taken pris’ner and dere’s rules about that like Not Kicking Pris’ners Inna Head and stuff, ‘cos if you kick their pris’ners inna head they’ll kick your pris’ners inna head so dat’s, like, you’re kickin’ your own head, but dere’s no rule say you can’t kick enemy civilians inna head. There’s other stuff too, but I ran outa numbers.’
*
‘You know what most of the milit’ry training is, Perks?’ Jackrum went on. ‘It’s to turn you into a man who will, on the word of command, stick his blade into some poor sod just like him who happens to be wearing the wrong uniform. He’s like you, you’re like him. He doesn’t really want to kill you, you don’t really want to kill him. But if you don’t kill him first, he’ll kill you. That’s the start and finish of it. It don’t come easy without trainin’.’
*
Polly wondered if Jackrum ever slept. She did a spell of guard duty, and he stepped out from behind her with ‘Guess who, Perks! You’re on lookout. You should see the dreadful enemy before they see you. What’re the four Ss?’
‘Shape, shadow, silhouette and shine, sarge!’ said Polly, snapping to attention.
That caused a moment’s pause from the sergeant before he said: ‘Just knew that, did yer?’
‘Nosir! A little bird told me when we changed guard, sir! Said you’d asked him, sir!’
‘Oh, so Jackrum’s little lads are gangin’ up on their kindly ol’ sergeant, are they?’ said Jackrum.
‘Nosir. Sharing information important to the squad in a vital survival situation, 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.
*
‘General Tacticus said the fate of a battle may depend upon the actions of one man in the right place, sergeant,’ said Blouse, calmly.
‘And having a lot more soldiers than the