The Pixilated Peeress (30 page)

             
Thorolf felt the stirring of jealousy and of annoy
ance at being so rudely displaced. On the other hand, he did not wish to antagonize Berthar, who might some day help his reentry into Academe. It was partly to concil
iate Berthar that he had attacked the three Carinthians singlehanded. Besides, he admitt
e
d to himself that he must stink from his unwashedness.

             
"Oh, very well," he grumbled. "Do not mind Yvette's manner, Berthar. Betimes she confuses herself with Frea, the mother goddess of her Dualist Faith, and thinks all us mortals her subjects."

             
"Insol
ent jackanapes!" she said. Ignoring the com
ment, Thorolf crawled into the sleeping sack and watched unhappily as his companions fitted themselves into the tent.

-

             
Next morning, Thorolf was up and had the little fire going before Berthar and Yvette emer
ged from the tent, yawning and stretching mightily and grinning as if viewing Helmanax's hilarious masterpiece,
Mistress in Name Only.
The play had been banned in Zurshnitt as subversive of morality; but a group of players gave se
cret performances in a ba
rn beyond the city limits.

             
Thorolf looked dourly at his companions. They had slept fully clad; but that was no insuperable obsta
cle
...

             
"Sleep well?" he snapped.

             
"Magnificent well!" said Yvette. " 'Twas as sound as in mine own palace. You were a dear to permit it!" She leaned over and kissed Thorolf's cheek. Some
times, he thought, she acted almost human.

             
Through the day, the Countess and the park super
intendent
chattered, joked, and laughed in high good humor. Drawing inferences, Thorolf became ever more dour and silent.

             
A group of trolls stopped them, demanding tribute. Thorolf talked their way past this border guard, and the trio reached Wok's village in mid
afternoon.

             
The Chief came puffing up, crying: "Ah, good my Thorolf! And the learned Doctor Berthar! What seek ye this time? Worms or gnats?"

             
"A species of salamander
—
" began Berthar, but Wok ignored his reply, saying:

             
"Is this your other mate, Thorol
f?"

             
"She is Countess Yvette of Grintz, from Carinthia. Countess, I present the mighty Chief Wok
—
"

             
"What this?" said Bza loudly in Trollish, pushing brusquely into the group. "No say can have other mate!"

             
"What's she grunting about?" asked Yvette.

             
"
Well
—
ah
—
this is Bza, of whom I told you
—
"

             
"Want other mate, ask me first!" shouted Bza. "Me boss; her servant!"

             
Thorolf said: "She claims mastery over you, as se
nior wife
—
"

             
"I never heard of aught so ridiculous!" cried Yvette. "Tell this apish she-p
ig where to stick her wishes!"

             
"Bza!" said Thorolf in a soothing manner. "Listen! She no mate; just friend. Nobody boss
—
"

             
"Me know lowland word!" screamed Bza. "Me kill!"

             
Bza hurled herself at Yvette; the two came together in a shrieking whirl of golden hair. Bza was trying to tear out a double handful of Yvette's tresses, while the Countess fiercely punched and kicked her antagonist.

             
Thorolf cried: "Stop them, Wok!" He c
aught Bza from behind and whacked her knuckles with the hilt of the dagger he had taken from the Carinthian until she released Yvette's hair. Wok had seized Yvette around the waist and whirled her away from Bza. Thorolf turned Bza around and gave her a sh
o
ve that sent her staggering away.

             
"Enough from you twain!" he shouted, sheathing his dagger. "No fight, Bza! Or me beat!"

             
"Limp lowlander, no can futter!" yelled Bza.

             
Before Thorolf could find further words, he felt his dagger snatched from its sheat
h. Next, Yvette was run
ning at Bza, the dagger raised for a downward stab.

             
Thorolf hurled himself after the Countess, catching her just before she reached her victim. With the flying tackle he brought Yvette to earth. She rolled over, shrieking:

             
"Loon
! Whoreson rudesby! Lickspittle! Roynish pa-jock! I'll teach thee to lay vile hands upon my princely person!"

             
She tried to stab Thorolf, who caught her wrist and twisted until she released the knife. Since the tirade continued, he slapped her, hard.

             
"I
diot!" he growled. "Want them to cut you up and boil you for dinner? That's what they do to bothersome lowlanders."

             
Yvette dissolved in tears. Thorolf added: "And next time you try to stab someone, hold the knife point up." He looked up to see a scowling
Khop, Bza's lover, looming over him.

             
"Hurt Bza, fight me!" rumbled the troll.

             
"Thorolf!" said Berthar's voice. "I cannot have you treating a high-born lady thus!"

             
Thorolf rose. "If you're fain to keep those two ter
magants from
killing each other," he snarled, "I wish you joy of the task. I am more concerned with my belly. Chief Wok, who has a bite to spare a hungry fellow tribesman?"

-

             
As the
day died, Thorolf pitched his little tent at the edge of the village and pulled off
his boots. Berthar asked:

             
"What do ye, Thorolf?"

             
"As any fool can see, I am stalking a Pantorozian tiger," snapped Thorolf.

             
"Oh, come, be not angry! Ye were right to separate those twain even if compelled to be rough with them. Are ye going to sleep?
"

             
"Aye. Having been on the dodge for a sennight, I weary."

             
"Ye take not your usual tent, with Bza?"

             
"She threatened to cut off my manhood whilst I slept, so I shall rest better alone."

             
"Then what of the Countess and me? My sack is not spacious enou
gh for two
...
"

             
"Ask Wok to find spaces for the twain of you. Yvette was right; this shelter is really not large enough for more than one. Good night."

             
Later, finding sleep elusive despite his fatigue, Tho
rolf heard Yvette say:

             
"
...
in Grintz, a commoner who laid violent hands upon me would be torn between wild horses."

             
"But, my dear, he had to! He did after all save your life."

             
"So I ween; but it's hard to forgive such presump
tuous treatment. My elbow was skinned in the fall, an
d my arm aches from the twist he gave it."

             
"Ye should make amends."

             
"I would have, earlier; but he professed not to hear when I spake. Now he sulks, because I gave him not what
...
"

             
The voices faded with distance. Thorolf mentally fin
ished her last
sentence: "
...
what I gave you." He uttered a little snort of disgust, partly at himself for being, despite all, still in love with the jade.

-

             
When Thorolf finally dropped off, he slept heavily, so that the sun was well up before
he awoke. As he crawled out and started for the patch of ground on the leeward side of the village used by the trolls for toilet purposes, Chief Wok hailed him:

             
"Ho there! Know ye what hath become of your Bza?"

             
"Nay," said Thorolf. "What has?"

             
"Disa
ppeared, along with young Khop. Methinks they've run off together."

             
"I'm not surprised. She took Khop as a lover whilst I dwelt with her."

             
"Oho! Then why haven't ye slain Khop, or at least given him a good drubbing?"

             
Thorolf grinned at the idea of a human being, even so powerful a one as himself, thrashing the mighty Khop. "I already had my bow trained upon the Count
ess. My junction with Bza was what we call a marriage
of convenience. If she prefer Khop, I shall send
good wishes after them."

             
Wok shook his head. "Ye lowlanders are strange be
ings. Ye are plainly no coward; and yet
...
"

             
"Any notion of whither they've gone?"

             
"Belike to the Dorblentzes to join Chief Yig's horde."

             
"Perchance Khop can arrange peace b
etwixt the hordes. You trolls need all your combined strength to resist lowland encroachments."

             
"Me, friends with that louse!
...
But it could be that ye have an idea there, Thorolf. I'll think upon it. Now what of the twain ye brought hither? I found pl
aces for them
—
the woman in mine own tent, though I had to toss out one of my wives."

             
Thorolf: "They won't be here long." He looked around and sighted Berthar and Yvette, sitting in a cir
cle of trolls and making the best of a breakfast of smoked goat's m
eat and barley porridge. They looked up as he approached.

             
"Heigh-ho, Thorolf!" said the Countess. "When canst arrange my safe return to Zurshnitt?"

             
Berthar said: "I must spend a day or two seeking my salamanders ere returning to the city."

             
"Zurshnitt
won't be safe until we
'v
e drawn Parthe
nius' fangs," said Thorolf. "I shall have to get in touch with my father
—
"