A young man was riding across the square on a tired, skinny brown horse, which was quite suitable because he was a tired, skinny man. The skinniness was helped by the fact that he wore a tunic which had clearly been made for someone a couple of sizes larger. The same applied to his helmet. He must have padded it, Polly thought. One cough and it'll be over his eyes.
Sergeant Jackrum snapped off a salute as the officer approached. "Jackrum, sir. You'll be Lieutenant Blouse, sir?"
"Well done, sergeant."
"These are the recruits from upriver, sir. Fine body of men, sir."
The rider peered at the squad. He actually leaned forward over the horse's neck, causing rain to pour off his helmet.
"This is all, sergeant?"
"Yessir."
"Most of them look very young," said the lieutenant, who didn't look very old.
"Yessir."
"And isn't that one a troll?"
"Yessir. Well spotted, sir."
"And the one with stitches all round his head?"
"He's an Igor, sir. Sort of like a special clan up in the mountains, sir."
"Do they fight?"
"Can take a man apart very quickly, sir, as I understand it," said Jackrum, his expression not changing.
The young lieutenant sighed. "Well, I'm sure they're all good fellows," he said. "Now then, er... men, I - "
"Pay attention and listen to what the lieutenant has to say!" bawled Strappi.
The lieutenant shuddered. " - thank you, corporal," he said. "Men, I have good news," he added, but in the voice of one who hasn't. "You were probably expecting a week or two in the training camp in Crotz, yes? But I'm glad to be able to tell you that the... the war is progressing so... so... so well that you are to go directly to the front."
Polly heard one or two gasps, and a snigger from Corporal Strappi.
"All of you are to go to the lines," said the lieutenant. "That includes you too, corporal. Your time for action has come at last!"
The snigger stopped. "Sorry, sir?" said Strappi. "The front? But you know that I'm - well, you know about the special duties - "
"My orders said all able-bodied men, corporal," said Blouse. "I expect that you'll be itching for the fray after all these years, eh, a young man like you?"
Strappi said nothing.
"However," said the lieutenant, fumbling under his soaking cloak, "I do have a package here for you, Sergeant Jackrum. A very welcome one, I've no doubt."
Jackrum took the packet gingerly. "Thank you, sir, I'll look at this later on - " he began.
"On the contrary, Sergeant Jackrum!" said Blouse. "Your last recruits should see this, since you are both a soldier and, as it were, a 'father of soldiers'! And so it's only right that they see a fine soldier get his reward: an honourable discharge, sergeant!" Blouse spoke the words as if they had cream and a little cherry on top.
Apart from the rain, the only sound now was Jackrum's pudgy finger slowly ripping open the package.
"Oh," he said, like a man in shock. "Good. A picture of the Duchess. That's eighteen I have now. Oh, and, oo, a piece of paper saying it's a medal, so it's looks like we've even run out of pot metal now. Oh, and my discharge with a printing of the Duchess's very own signature itself!" He turned the packet over and shook it. "Not my three months' back pay, though."
"Three loud hurrahs for Sergeant Jackrum!" said the lieutenant to the rain and wind. "Hip-hip - "
"But I thought we needed every man, sir!" said Jackrum.