The Pixilated Peeress (32 page)

             
The bl
ond man gave the ghost of a nod. "Gondomar,
Fifth Duke of Landai, at your service. Release the woman at once!"

             
"I will not. She is under the evil influence of this soldier and must be brought back into the light of the true spiritual science!"

             
"I shall
count three," said Gondomar, "and if by that time those three under distraint be not released, ye and all your men shall die!" He turned his head and bellowed: "Prepare to charge!"

             
"One step toward us, and the woman's throat shall be cut!" yelled Par
thenius, seizing Yvette and pinion
ing her arms.

             
"Harm one hair of her head, and ye shall die
—
but slowly!" replied the Duke.

             
"Ready to receive the enemy!" Parthenius called out to his troop. Both lines bristled with weapons.

             
"Listen to me!" came Yvet
te's high voice. "Why should all you brave warriors perish in a fribbling quar
rel over me betwixt those two bravos? Let those twain settle it by single combat!"

             
"What? Ridiculous!" roared the Duke.

             
"Absurd!" echoed Parthenius.

             
"A daft idea!" said Go
ndomar.

             
"A childish notion!" said Parthenius.

             
"Why not try it, your Grace?" said one of Gondo
mar's officers. "Ye are a mighty battler."

             
" 'Twere a splendid sight!" said one of Parthenius' warriors. "Go ahead, Master; take him up on it! Ye'll trounce
him soundly!"

             
" 'Tis a fair contest, since ye be well-matched!" added a Landaian.

             
Both the Duke and Parthenius were pushed forward, vehemently protesting, by groups of their men. Then the men fell back, leaving the two leaders facing each other a coup
le of yards apart.

             
The Duke put on his helmet and buckled the chin strap. "Never hath it been said that a Landai quailed!" he growled. "Art ready?"

             
"Aye forsooth!" said Parthenius, adjusting his hel
met and drawing his sword. "Have at you!"

             
The sword
s met with a clang. Back and forth they went, swords scraping and banging. Now and then came the duller sound of a sword striking armor. Round and round they staggered. The shiny armor became dented and scratched. A few scarlet trickles told where the bla
d
es had penetrated the plate. On and on went the fight.

             
A Carinthian called out: "Ten marks on the Duke!"

             
"Taken!" cried one of Parthenius' guards.

             
Unable to inflict a mortal wound, the two grasped their swords in both hands and hewed at each other. A
s they tired, the fighting came in fits and starts. Between times they leaned on their swords, glared at each other, and drew breath in gasping pants.

             
At the beginning of one of these pauses, Parthenius stepped back and lowered his blade. Quickly as a vi
per's strike, Gondomar lunged and drove his point be
neath the bars of Parthenius' helmet into the flesh below
h
is jaw and up into the skull. Parthenius reeled back and fell with a clang.

-

             
Gondomar stepped back and took off his helmet. One of his men
handed him a piece of cloth to wipe his face, covered with sweat despite the coolness.

             
"So much for that lozel!" he said. "Now, who are these ye hold pinioned? The lady I know; but the other twain?"

             
Berthar and Thorolf identified themselves.

             
"Oho!" s
aid the Duke. "So ye are the terrible Ser
geant Thorolf, who hath caused such scathe to the men I sent to fetch my affianced bride! What do ye here with her?"

             
"Sergeant Thorolf," began Yvette, "has rescued me
—

             
"Please, Yvette, let me talk!" swore Thoro
lf; but the Countess rushed on:

             
"
—
rescued me from your bravos, once on the way to Zurshnitt and again in the city; and then from the castle of this villain lying dead."

             
"Hath this fellow been intimate with you?" barked Gondomar, pointing at Thorolf.

             
"That's no affair of yours!"

             
"Oho, so he hath indeed! We'll soon put him beyond such temptations for ay!"

             
The Duke started toward Thorolf, who stood with the Sophonomist guards who had seized him but who had released their grip with the fall of their l
eader. In the rush of events, nobody had thought to disarm Thorolf, who now drew his sword.

             
"Oho, so the baseborn thinks he can fight!" said Gondomar, pulling on his helmet. "We shall soon see!"

             
He bored in upon Thorolf, who parried the Duke's angry th
rusts and swings. Thorolf knew that, the Duke being armored and he not, there was little chance of defeating his opponent save by a stroke of luck. If the Duke had been a tyro, or if he were exhausted from his previous fight, Thorolf might have had a reas
o
nable chance. But the Duke was a seasoned warrior and had recovered his second wind.

             
"Unfair!" cried Yvette. "He wants armor!"

             
"This is no duel but an execution," growled the Duke, whirling his sword in circles and figure-eights.

             
"We have never forni
cated!" cried Yvette. "He's un
der some silly vow of chastity!"

             
The Duke paid no attention. Round and round they went, with Thorolf ever backing away. If by defense he could wear down the Duke, there was just a chance
...

             
"Stop them, somebody!" shrille
d Yvette. None heeded.

             
A slash from Gondomar opened a slit in Thorolf's breeches and inflicted a shallow cut on the thigh be
neath. Blood began to soak the cloth in a
widening
stain. The cut stung but did not handicap the
sergeant.

             
Gondomar growled as
he fought: "I'll have you im
paled, knave!
...
. Ye shall be flayed and rolled in salt
...
I'll bind your feet to a tree and your hands to my horse, and spur the beast
...
I'll roast you for a day and a night over a slow fire
...
I'll cut off your memb
ers, little by little
...
"

             
Thorolf saved his breath for fighting. A thrust from Gondomar scratched the shoulder of Thorolf through his jacket. A return thrust from Thorolf skittered off the Duke's battered armor.

             
Gondomar wound up one of his fierce two
-handed cuts. As he stepped forward, a flash of motion behind the Duke caught Thorolf's eye; something metallic flut
tered through the air. Thorolf could not heed it, being busy parrying the Duke's slash so that the blades met at a shallow angle.

             
Then th
e Duke gave an angry grunt. His left leg folded beneath him, so that he went down on one knee. To steady himself, he took his left hand off his hilt and pressed that hand against the ground.

             
Instantly Thorolf lunged and brought his blade in a slash again
st the back of Gondomar's gauntleted sword hand. The Duke dropped his sword and shook the bruised hand. Thorolf put a foot on the Duke's sword, seized the crest of Gondomar's helmet with his free hand, and inserted his point through the bars in front of t
h
e helmet, a finger's breadth from Gondomar's prominent right eye.

             
"Yield!" commanded Thorolf.

             
The Duke looked steadily at him and at the sword blade. His eyes swiveled right and left to the clustered crowd of warriors. At last he said:

             
"I yield. What
would ye? Ransom?"

             
"I'll tell you. First, command your men to march back to Landai forthwith, and yarely!"

             
"So ye can slay me at leisure?"

             
"Not if you follow orders. Go on, command them!"

             
Duke Gondomar sighed. "Very well. Men! Hear ye me? Ye shall
return to the duchy forthwith."

             
"But, your Grace
—
" began the officer who had urged the duel with Parthenius.

             
"Hold thy tongue, and obey!" yelled the Duke. "Wouldst slay me with your havering? Go!"

             
The crowd of Landaians trickled back along the trai
l by which they had come. Gondomar shouted after them: "Be sure my horse gets back with you, hale and flush!"

             
When all were out of sight, Thorolf called: "Berthar! Tie me the Duke's wrists behind his back!"

             
"What with?" said Berthar.

             
"Here!" Thorolf
held out the strips of cloth that he had used on Yvette. When Gondomar's arms were se
curely bound, Thorolf said:

             
"Stand up, your Grace; let's see what ails your leg."

             
Thorolf discovered his dagger embedded in the mus
cle of Gondomar's unarmored calf,
just above the boot. The Duke's movement dislodged the blade, which fell in the dirt.

             
"Good gods, Yvette," Thorolf said, "I knew not you were a knife thrower!"

             
"I have skills you wot not of," she said. "What shall we do with this lump of a Duke?"

             
"He
must be haled to Zurshnitt to stand trial!" said Berthar. "Armed invasion, threats to Rhaetian citizens, duelling, attempted homicide
...
"

             
"Oh, bugger your legalisms!" said Yvette. " 'Twere best simply to cut his throat!"

             
"Dearest!" cried Gondomar. "I
did but come for love of you!"

             
"Nay!" said Thorolf. "I promised
—
"

             
"But I did not!" said Yvette, reaching for the knife she had thrown.