A Hogswatch Carol

Author's Note: Happy Hogswatch, fellow Cheesemongers. I really do love my OTP.

Disclaimer: Polly, Maladicta and the Ins-and-outs are Terry Pratchett's. And I don't know who wrote 'Need a Little Christmas Now', but it sure wasn't me.

3. Need a Little Hogswatch Now

For I've grown a little leaner
Grown a little older
Grown a little sadder
Grown a little colder
And I need a little angel
Sitting on my shoulder
Need a little Christmas now

Up on the mountain pass, it snowed.

Inside the cave, the fire was dying down. The cold was invading the tight pocket of warmth inside, causing a number among the figures curled up beside the fire to shiver in their sleep and clutch the faded fabric of a regimental coat around their thin frames.

The shadow stood watching them, an odd sort of tender pity on its face. Then without a sound, it slipped out of the cave and disappeared into the snow.

Five minutes later, a head appeared for a second, protruding from a clump of rocks overlooking the road, and then it disappeared with all the alacrity of one familiar with the knowledge that at least fifty hypothetical crossbows were positioned on the opposite outcrop, ready to shoot the living daylights out of anything that moved.

From behind the rocks, there was the minute sound of a crossbow being cocked.

A sudden sound made the figure spin around, crossbow at the ready, swinging to point at the startled face of a soldier in the uniform of the Ins-and-Outs.

The crossbow relaxed. "What the hell are you doing out here, Polly?"

"What the hell are you doing out here, Mal?" hissed the other, unfazed by the fact that the crossbow was still pointing in her direction. "Last time I checked, you were on watch!"

"I'm watching the road. Shut up!" came the rejoinder, a sudden urgency infusing it.

They both fell silent. On the outcrop opposite, a single cigarette flared in the night, denoting the position of a sentry in the enemy camp.

"Want I should take him down, sarge?" offered the one with the crossbow.

"Unless you want to alert them to our position." Sergeant Perks shook her head. "Why are you watching the road, Mal?"

Maladicta shrugged. "Something's bound to come along. We need food. I need coffee. We've been stuck here for nearly a week, Polly."

"You could have told me," said Polly reproachfully. "You think you could take down a coach down by yourself?"

"Vampire. Why not?"

"With every crossbow in enemy camp firing straight at you?"

"Okay," admitted Maladicta, "that might make it a bit more difficult."

"I'm coming with you, corporal, and that's an order."

"Look," pointed out Maladicta, "if we both cop it, who's going to take care of the lads?"

"If we don't get that food, there won't be any more lads to take care of," retorted Polly grimly. She sighed. "Fancy spending Hogswatch up in a mountain pass, half frozen and starving, with fifty enemy crossbows waiting to pick us off if we make a break for it. It's bloody Hogswatch, for goodness' sakes – don't they know that?"

"Polly," said Maladicta warningly, "not the b-word. Not now."

"Sorry."

They were interrupted by the sound of wheels on frozen ground, and the sharp whinny of a horse. Both crept up to the edge of the rocks and raised their heads cautiously.

A coach came along the road, the horses treading carefully on the slippery snow, the driver no more than a bundle of furs on the seat. Polly let out her breath in a rush of cold mist before her face. "I don't believe this. What's an Ankh-Morpork coach doing out here at this time?"

"Mail coach," said Maladicta shortly. "Some people have Hogswatch gifts to send."

Polly gave her a sidelong look. "Think it's a risk worth taking?"

"Anything for coffee." Maladicta readied her crossbow. "Come on."

The coach was winding up the road towards where they were hidden. Both were tensed, ready to leap out from behind the rocks.

"Run for it," whispered Polly. "Just grab what you can and run for it. If either of us is shot down, the other one must not turn back, is that clear?"

"Understood, sarge." Maladicta grinned. Fangs flashed in the moonlight. "For the lads."

Polly nodded. "For the lads. On my count: three, two, one – go!"

They both broke cover simultaneously, running as fast they could towards the coach. Maladicta was already there; like lightning she swung up onto the seat, yanking at the reins with one hand to stop the horses, levelling the crossbow easily with her other hand at the driver's face. "Sorry to bother you, sir, this won't take a second……"

The driver's eyes rolled in fear, and he yelled out for help. Up on the outcrop, there were cries of astonishment, barked orders to ready for battle. The coach door swung open, and two large men – the mail coach bodyguards – jumped out, brandishing swords.

Maladicta swore, punched the driver so hard he flew off the seat into the snow on the other side of the road, and twisted on the seat so that her boots met the ribs of the first bodyguard coming at her. The two of them went down in a flurry of snow. Maladicta landed on top, sent the struggling man reeling with another blow, and kicked him to make sure he stayed down. Behind them, Polly was already leaping over the body of the second man to board the mail coach. Maladicta leapt up after her.

They didn't have long. Polly rummaged desperately amongst the sacks of mail, and finally found the essential store of food every coach travelling in this weather would need. She grabbed as many tins of dried meat and stock cubes she could hold, knowing without looking that Maladicta doing the same, and then turned towards the open door.

Maladicta froze suddenly. "My good gods, that isn't coffee, is it?"

Three crossbow bolts thudded into the wood of the coach side, signifying that the enemy was loaded and firing. Polly grabbed at her comrade's shoulder. "Come on, Mal, there's no time!"

"I can smell it!" gasped Maladicta, and freeing herself from Polly's grip, she lunged towards the mail sacks and seized one, brought it to her nose to make sure, grinned, and then tucked it under her arm.

"Let's go!" wailed Polly, and together they burst out of the coach as the first volley of crossbow fire rained about them, worrying their mad dash towards the safety of the rocks. One just missed Polly, catching her a gash on the arm. She winced, but didn't slow until she threw herself behind the shelter of the rocks. "Gods, why don't they give us a break?"

Maladicta rolled over, aimed the crossbow and pulled the trigger twice. There were two short screams up on the outcrop, and the rain of missiles ceased momentarily . The vampire cocked a sardonic grin. "Some Hogswatch, eh?"

"Keep moving," returned Polly, and they took the chance to make a break for it up the slope. With the dreadful song of the crossbows pursuing them, they flung themselves into the cover of a snow drift, finally out of range of the enemy's weapons.

"Close one, that," remarked Maladicta to Polly as they lay in six feet of snow. She released her hold on the mail bag and opened it. "Let's see what we have here…"

"What sort of crazy person sends coffee from Ankh-Morpork to Borogravia in wartime?" muttered Polly, closing her eyes and allowing herself to relax.

"Whoever it is, I love them for it already," replied Maladicta happily, tearing open the package. "Lovely, Klatchian Black! I adore Klatchian Black." She sounded like Paul had when Polly had given him that easel set two Hogswatches ago.

"There's a card," observed Polly. She picked it up with gloved fingers from where it had fluttered onto the snow, and handed it to Maladicta. "Would you like to know whose coffee you just stole?"

"I'm sure they wouldn't begrudge a soldier in need," began Maladicta callously, opening the card, and then she fell silent.

"What's it say?" demanded Polly, trying to read over her shoulder. To her surprise Maladicta sat up and squirmed away defensively, but not before Polly recognised the name beside the signature. "Otto Chriek? Isn't that the iconographer you were seeing last summer when we went to Ankh-Morpork? What's he doing, sending coffee in Borogravia?"

Maladicta ignored her, picking up the coffee in one hand and clutching it to herself while rereading the card. Comprehension dawned on Polly. "He sent it to you? But how on earth did he know our – we don't even have an address!"

"That's because," said Maladicta in a subdued voice, "he sent one bag of coffee and a card to every region in Borogravia he could think of, because I had to be in one of them, and hopefully I'd come upon one. He knows that we probably won't be getting any other Hogswatch presents."

Polly couldn't think of what to say. "That's…a lot of regions."

"I know," said Maladicta simply. "It's…very sweet of him."

Polly gave her a suspicious look. The vampire was looking blissfully happy. She felt slightly unsettled. Life got a little more disturbing whenever Mal started acting like a girl.

"Come on," she said brusquely, "we'd better get the rest of the stuff back to the lads before one of them starves to death while we're out here."

Maladicta snapped back into military-efficiency mode, but for the rest of the trek up the slope, she was still wearing that blissfully happy grin.

Polly didn't begrudge her that present. Gods knew Mal had had more family-less Hogswatches than she herself had had.

They stopped in the mouth of the cave, two silhouettes against a sky breaking up into the dawn of a crisp, cold, eventful day. Near the embers of the fire, Private Schist was already rising up on his elbows, rubbing the sleep from his eyes while prodding Private Mannon beside him awake. Around the cave, the sleeping regiment began to wake.

Polly grinned at the faces, heavy with sleep and filled with astonishment, and then brightening with understanding.

She'd never disappointed her little lads before, and at least she hadn't broken that record, today of all days. They'd have a celebratroy meal all right.

"Happy Hogswatch, lads," she said softly.

End.