Friday 27 May 2022

Trainees!

There is a long, sonorous clanking sound as the artillery is wheeled off. Moments later, this is replaced by the sorts of sounds made by a large body of undisciplined irregulars trying to pretend to be a large body of disciplined regulars. This sound is somewhat analogous to a family of otters trying to pass themselves off as the Spanish royal family.

'The djiveleks, dread lord', says Bulbous. 'The trainee janissaries! Each of these two units trains replacements for our two janissary ortas. They've been training troops for more than a century'.
The hospodar nods. 'Well, they should be well trained then'.
Bulbous shrugs. 'You'd think so wouldn't you, my lord'.
'How much training does one actually need to be a janissary?' asks Casimir with interest.
Bulbous considers this. 'Well, my lord, longer than one might think. There's the musketry training of course; the bullying; the time in prison; the time spent deserting; more prison time - it all adds up'.


Casimit nods reflectively. He then points at the troops as they attempt to form some semblance of a line. 'Are those dunce's hats that they're wearing?'
'Oh no - by no means, lord. Those are traditional djivelek hats. Besides, I had them rub the 'D's off. They just happen to look like very silly conical yellow caps'.
Casimir frowns. 'And you wouldn't say that their hats are too silly, Bulbous?'
'Oh no sir! Consider - doesn't it require a particular kind of double-hard bastard to go out in public with hats such as those, without a care of being mocked?
'I see your point, Bulbous, I see your point. Well, splendid. Now, who else have we got?'

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