The Pixilated Peeress (29 page)

             
"Not yet but soon. Go on!"

             
"That
left Of
f
o. His pelf was stolen by a whore he bedded; I know not whither he went.
"

             
"
And the surviving trio?"

             
"Alas! Drink and gambling and whoring frittered away our fortunes at a rate ye could scarce believe. Ere we knew, we were down to our last few c
oins. We durst not return to Landai, for the Duke would hang us for flouting his commands. So here we are
—
or at least, here am I. Now, wilt abide your promise to let me live?"

             
"Aye," said T
horolf, "for now. If I meet you again, you're a dead man. But first I'll collect a small bounty, as you were doing to Doctor Berthar. Take his weapons and purse, Berthar; and pull off that mail shirt and hood
...
We can use those good boots, too. Give me h
is dagger, pray; I lost mine."

             
Berthar unclasped the gold-and-garnet brooch that held the robber's cloak. "Ho!" cried the robber. "Take not my cloak, I beg; or I shall freeze to death on these cold nights!"

             
"I will let him keep his cloak," said Berthar
. "But one of those who fled got away with my good clasp; so I'll keep this one."

             
Thorolf looked around to see Yvette approaching. He said: "Madam, do you remember Doctor Berthar, of the Zoological Park?"

             
Berthar was struggling with the mail hood, the
links of which had been driven by the stone into the flesh of the robber's cheek and ear. The Carinthian bled freely when the mesh was pulled away.

             
"I remember Doctor Berthar," Yvette said,
"though
my memories of the time I was possessed are vague and
dreamy. Greetings, Doctor. Thorolf, I'm surprised that one as powerful as you failed to catch those twain."

             
Thorolf grinned embarrassedly. "Running is not my strongest point."

             
"No wonder, with that great mass of flesh! You should starve yourself down
to slimness like unto mine. Then you could outrun such cullions."

             
"Madam!" said Thorolf. "That at which you cavil is not fat but solid thew. If you believe me not, I'll swing you round my head by the ankles to prove it, as I did with that soldier who jee
red at my morals."

             
"Doctor Berthar! Wilt stand by and let this gorbellied lob shend me with insults?"

             
"My dear Countess," said Berthar, "since he hath half mine age and twice my size, I see not what I can do about it. Certes, the sight of your Highness
being whirled about thus were a robustious spectacle. He'd fling you into the next province."

             
"Trust you men to hang together!" she snapped.

             
"Anyway," said Thorolf, "nought incites a man to speed like a deadly foe in pursuit. You may doff my socks, Yv
ette, ere they crumble like last month's jour
ney cake, and put this rogue's shoon on over yours. Methinks they're big enough."

             
"I will also take his cloak," she said. "These flimsy nightclothes suffice me not in this clime."

             
The captive started to pro
test, but a flourish of Thorolf's sword silenced him. Thorolf turned to Berthar. "What brings you into the Sharmatts?"

             
"A little red-and-black salamander," Berthar re
plied, "like unto that which you saw in my chamber. It lurks under stones by day. Now t
hey'll be hibernat
ing, and I hope to gather a few for my terraria."

             
"Why should anyone," began Yvette in scornful tones, "take trouble over a tiny, wormy lizard
—
"

             
Berthar interrupted: "But this is a rare specimen, not hitherto known from this region!
If these prove a new species, I may have it named for me!" He bent to peer at the prostrate Carinthian. "Sirrah, be ye not one of the rogues who, essaying to kidnap Countess Yvette, delivered my dragon from his cage?"

             
"Well
—
ah
—
" mumbled the man, "we soug
ht not to harm anyone; merely to create a diversion
...
"

             
"Diversion!" shouted Berthar. "Risking the life of my priceless specimen! For that ye shall suffer the extremest penalty!"

             
Yvette spoke: "Forsooth, Thorolf, what meanst to do with this knave?"

             
"I promised not to kill him; so I shall let him go."

             
"What?" cried Berthar. "A mad idea! He should be haled back to Zurshnitt to stand trial for his felonies. It is the court's business whether to lengthen his neck or shorten it."

             
"Nonsense!" said Yvet
te. "You'd make a pother over nought. Thorolf, all we need is one good slash, and we can bury the head and the body."

             
"Not done in our orderly, legal manner, madam," said Berthar.

             
"Oh, futter your republican legalisms!" she snapped. "You idiot, the rig
ht thing is to kill him, and the sooner the better."

             
"I cannot," said Thorolf. "I promised, even though I owe him a debt for his part in my friend's murder. But to slay him now were dishonorable."

             
"Honor! You?" cried Yvette scornfully. "There's no s
uch thing in Rhaetia, since you have no nobles
—
not even knights. / could not slay him after promising life; but with you
—
"

             
"I have mine own code of honor
—
" began Thorolf, but she rushed on:

             
"My dear Sergeant, persons of the lower classes have no concer
n with honor. As commoners go you're a fine fellow; but for you to prate of honor is like a frog lec
turing on literary style."

             
Thorolf snorted angrily; but Berthar spoke: "The main thing is to assure a swift, just punishment; and that means
—
"

             
"And how
wouldst get him to Zurshnitt by yourself?" asked Thorolf.

             
"Ye could hold him prisoner whilst I went to town and sent the constables
—
"

             
"You mean, stand over this wittol for a week? Be not absurd
—
"

             
"You're two hairsplitting noddies!" shrilled Yvette.
"The only sane course
—
"

             
All three were shouting and gesticulating. While Thorolf's attention was distracted, the prisoner rolled suddenly to his feet and fled. Thorolf ran after him; but the man, though in stocking feet, ran like a deer. Tho
rolf gave up
and returned, panting.

             
"See
—
see what happens when you engage in foolish disputes?" he gasped.

             
"Ye were disputing as loudly as any," growled Ber
thar. "To loose a villain who's harmed one of my ani
mals
—
"

             
Yvette broke into a peal of laughter. "Confes
s, my good friends, we were all a pack of zanies! I still think I was right; but now the rascal hath settled the matter for us. 'Twere a scene from one of Helmanax's come
dies. Let's be on our ways."

             
Thorolf and Berthar grinned shamefacedly. Thorolf aske
d: "We are bound for the village of the Sharmatt trolls; whither for you?"

             
Berthar thought. "If I may, I'll go with you. I know Chief Wok, and meseems it were safer with him then wending alone. I might meet those three seeking re
venge."

             
"Fair enough.
Take the rogue's sword."

             
Thorolf led the way back to the fork. Walking with Yvette, Berthar said: "Countess, today ye seem like a different person, compared to how ye were at the park. Then ye were as silent as a tomb."

             
"Oh, I can explain," said Yvette
, launching into a voluble account of her captivity and rescue.

-

             
The delay meant an extra night of camping out before reaching the village. Thorolf and Berthar pooled their remaining food. When Yvette had stepped away for pri
vacy, Berthar said:

             
"You
r little Countess is amazing, Thorolf. Tell me, are ye and she
—
ah
—
well, betrothed or something of the sort?"

             
Thorolf frowned. "Nay, neither betrothed nor 'some
thing of the sort.' To her Rhaetians are lower-class per
sons and hence ineligible. Why?"

             
"I
did but wonder. 'Tis plain the pair of you know each other passing well; yet from the way ye squabble one would think you an old married couple."

             
"So far, Yvette's company has entailed many pains of the wedded state without the pleasures."

             
Staring int
o their little fire, Berthar said: "Since my whilom wife absconded, I've been alone. Your Count
ess mightily attracts me. Ye'll not mind?"

             
"N-no," said Thorolf. "But I warn you, she'll give your suit a rough reception."

             
When Yvette returned, she said:
"Where wilt sleep, Doctor Berthar? The sergeant and I can barely fit into that little tent."

             
"I brought a sleeping sack," said Berthar, pulling it out of his pack. "It will suffice me."

             
"Thorolf!" said Yvette in her commanding voice. "Let you take the good Doctor's sack, whilst he and I occupy the tent!"

             
Startled, Thorolf said: "Well
—
ah
—
wherefore? "

             
"You're so thick of thew, there's in sooth room for but you in the tent. I must needs
lie pressed against you, in dread that the great mass of muscle roll over and crush the life from me. I dream that I am but an insect upon whom your boot is descending. Berthar, being of sparer figure, would better fit." She wrinkled her nose. "Besides, I
have reason to suspect you've not bathed lately."

             
"She makes sense," murmured Berthar, "but I would not dislodge you without your consent."

             
"Oh, fiddle-faddle!" cried Yvette. "I've stated my wishes!"