Several platoons of recruits with additional NCOs and some of the officers were posted as pickets, but the rest of the force marched back to Fort Transformation. There was some attempt to sing at first, but this faded away as they crossed the field of battle and its remains. There were dead Denizens and Nithlings sprawled amid still-sparking weapons and blackened bits of ground, and there was blood everywhere, blue and black mixed together.
‘I thought Nithlings dissolved when they died,’ whispered Fred. Even at a whisper, his voice sounded strangely loud and dissonant, sharp above the sound of the marching and the occasional rattle of weapons or armour. ‘Went back into Nothing.’
‘They do,’ said the Denizen next to Arthur. Arthur looked at her properly for the first time and saw she was a corporal, the one in charge of one of the other recruit platoons. Urmink was her name.
‘What about these ones, then, Corporal?’ asked Fred.
‘Near Creations,’ said Urmink. ‘Originally made from Nothing, but close to being Denizens. They’re flesh and blood, of a kind. Very tough flesh and blood. Much closer to Denizens than mortals, and not at all like your normal Nithling.’
She spoke in a conversational tone, not the barking-order voice Arthur and Fred were used to. Her candor was unexpected, but they didn’t want to push it, choosing to remain silent. Both were surprised when the corporal spoke again, just as the column wheeled to avoid the worst remnants of battle, in the middle of the parade ground.
‘There’s going to be a lot more fighting with that lot. This current campaign is not like any other. You all did well, but this was an easy battle. We outnumbered them and they were already tired.’
We have to fight again? Arthur thought. He felt a stab of fear rise up from his stomach, so strong that it almost made him throw up. He fought it down. Of course, we’re soldiers, but that was so horrible … How can we do it again … how can I do it again … ?
The recruits were not dismissed when the force was halted at the clear, rear part of the parade ground. Instead, each platoon was sent on particular duties. Most were to pick up the dead, salvage usable equipment, and clear up. Arthur and Fred stood at attention, waiting for their platoon to get its orders. After Corporal Urmink left, they also talked to each other quietly out of the sides of their mouths.
‘We were lucky to be ordered out of the front line,’ said Arthur.
‘We were,’ Fred agreed. ‘I wonder … I wonder if everyone else got through all right.’
They were silent for a while, thinking about that, as platoons turned and marched off around them. There were only sixty or seventy recruits left on the parade ground now, and none at all around Fred and Arthur, unless there were more behind where they couldn’t see.
Finally, they recognised the voice of Sergeant Helve, ordering Two Platoon to form up in front of their barracks.
‘What was that you shouted when the battle started?’ asked Fred as they marched towards their barracks.
‘My real name,’ said Arthur. ‘It’s … well … I think I’m supposed to keep it secret for some reason. It came back to me, just as the enemy attacked. Only I can’t remember anything more. Just the name.’
‘Is that everyone?’ asked Fred as they approached the barracks. There was a very short line in front of the door. Half of the platoon was missing. It took Arthur several seconds to work out that this meant they were probably dead or at the least wounded badly enough to require treatment.
‘That can’t be everyone,’ whispered Fred as they got closer. ‘Denizens are too hard to kill… ’
‘Green and Gold, fall in!’ ordered Helve, but he didn’t scream like he normally did.
Arthur and Fred quickly joined the end of the line. Rannifer wasn’t at the other end. Florimel was there instead, now the tallest.
‘You fought well,’ said Helve, again in an almost conversational tone. ‘As I expected you to. We’ve got the plum assignment now. Colonel Huwiti has ordered that as a reward, there will be a special mail call tonight. So you won’t have to wait another three months. And since you’ve fought today as soldiers, there’s going to be a rum ration as well – though not for you Piper’s children, I’m sorry to say. Don’t know why not, but it’s expressly ordered so.
‘We’ve been detailed to pick up the mail and take it to the Mess Hall. As there is still some danger of Nithling attack, we will stack shields here but keep savage-swords. That doesn’t mean you get out of cleaning them or your other weapons or yourselves. We’ll do a quick clean now and finish up properly later.’