The Pixilated Peeress (8 page)

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Authors: L. Sprague de Camp,Catherine Crook de Camp

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Epic

BOOK: The Pixilated Peeress
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"Canst imagine what the good folk of Zurshnitt would think, if they saw a monstro
us polyp climbing down the sheet by its tentacles? Besides which, the ter
rified carter would flee ere she reached the ground."

 

             
Bardi sighed. "It would simplify matters an ye boiled
her up and ate her,
as ye say they do in Tyrrhenia."

 

             
"An
ill-timed je
st," growled Thorolf. "I may not be a perfect gentle knight of romance, but I have some sense of responsibility. I have it! We'll buy the tub, rent the cartage, and I shall carry Yvette out wrapped in a wet bedsheet. I'll tell Vasco that the Countess be d
e
parted, and this bundle be the dirty linens from our travels, which I am taking to the washerwoman."

 

             
" 'Twould require a journey to Pantorozia and back, not a day's fishing, to accumulate so much wash," said the mage doubtfully.

 

             
"Cannot be helped. Now
we shall catch a wink of slumber." Thorolf pulled off his boots. "Luckily the bed is big enough for the twain. You're not the bedmate I should have chosen; but if you thrash about not, we shall manage."

 

-

 

             
With the first dawnlight, Thorolf yawned, stret
ched, and came fully awake. He found Bardi already up, sitting on the dressing chair and trimming his fingernails. Tho
rolf pulled on his boots, saying:

 

             
"I'm off, Doctor, and may be gone some small time. You shall remain to guard the door and keep Yvette company whilst I seek the needfuls. For reasons I need not recapitulate, I expect you to pay for these pur
chases."

 

             
"Such a mercenary springald!" grumpe
d Bardi. "A warrior true is a reckless spendthrift."

 

             
"I
profess not to be a warrior true; I save to pay for the professors' fees when I study for my doctorate. And tell that to my father, who ever chides me on my lack of proper Rhaetian rapacity! So pay
me now!" With a menacing scowl, Thorolf presented his palm.

 

             
"Dear me!" Grumbling, Bardi fumbled in his purse. "How much?"

 

             
"Ten marks should cover."

 

             
"But what shall I do for food?" queried the an
cient. "Your Countess, likewise, will require aliment."

 

             
"You could climb into the tub and let her breakfast on you, if your tissues prove not too tough and stringy."

 

             
"Now who makes jokes in ill-taste? I'm sure she would find a plump fish more to her liking."

 

             
"I'll fetch you a bun and the Countess a fish,
" said Thorolf. "I'll tell Vasco that my lady be ill of a con
tagious disease, wherefor you are treating her; and his folk must on no account enter herein. That is no great falsehood, either."

 

             
"One thing more," said Bardi. "The polyp, I infer, is a creat
ure of the sea. When ye fill this other tub, add a spoonful of salt, for your lady's health."

 

-

 

             
Noon was nigh when Thorolf returned. He handed Bardi his bun, unwrapped a carp, and dropped it into the tub. A tentacle whipped the fish out of sight beneath
the umbrella of arms.

 

             
When mage and monster had finished their repasts, Thorolf gathered up the sheet and dipped it into the water. With Bardi's help, he spread it out on the floor and motioned Yvette to climb out on it.

 

             
She seemed reluctant to leave the water but at last appeared to grasp the idea. Over the edge she came, first writhing tentacles, then slit-pupiled eyes, and at last the bulky, boneless bag of a body. She coiled her
self into a mottled brown lump on the s
h
eet, watching Thorolf with unwinking stare as he made a small bun
dle of Yvette's garments, borrowed from Vulfilac the smith.

 

             
Thorolf gathered the corners of the sheet and tied them together into a bag
. He picked up the improvised sa
ck
.

 

             
"Is she heavy?"
asked Bardi.

 

             
"No more than when she was human, which is to say a little above a hundred. Come along!"

 

             
They went down with Thorolf cradling the bundle. Vasco appeared, saying: "How doth your lady, Ser
geant? Ye told me she ailed."

 

             
"Much better now, t
hanks to Doctor Bardi. She's al
ready gone forth. The good Doctor will pay the scot, and your sheet shall be returned on the morrow."

 

             
Thorolf strode out, leaving a quietly fuming Bardi fumbling in his purse. The cart stood beneath the tub, to the sides o
f which were affixed handles for carrying.

 

             
Bardi appeared, saying: "Is that all, Sergeant? I'm fain to return to my sanctum."

 

             
"Nay. sir!" said Thorolf sternly. "You shall remain with me until we have delivered her."

 

             
He climbed up on the wheel of the
cart and dumped his bundle into the tub, saying to the carter in the local dialect: "This is a rare fish, meant as a gift to the King of Carinthia if we can keep it alive. Goodman Wentz, wilt take a look at your mule's off rear foot? Methought it limped a
trifle on our way hither."

 

             
Cursing under his breath, the carter climbed down from his perch and examined the hoof. While he did so, Thorolf untied the corners of the sheet and pulled it out from under Yvette. He spread the sheet over the tub.

 

             
"Nought a
miss here," the carter grumbled, resum
ing his place. "Good; let's go!"

 

-

 

             
Long before, when Rhaetia had been under the kings of Carint
hia, the kings' servants had erected a frowning castelet on a hill in the midst of Zurshnitt, to house the garrison and overawe the citizens. Since independence, Zurshnitt had grown far beyond its former boundaries. Left derelict, Zurshnitt Castle had bee
n
bought and re
furbished by the Order of Sophonomy.

 

             
Thorolf and Bardi walked through the Street of Clockmakers to the base of Castle Hill, followed by the cart. When the slope steepened, the mule balked until Thorolf put his massive shoulder to the tail
of the cart and pushed. The street became a winding path to the castle gate.

 

             
The curtain wall with its corner turrets was made of a gray gneiss, in which flakelets of mica sparkled in the sunshine. Reaching the gate of Zurshnitt Castle slightly out of br
eath, Thorolf saw a pair of chain-mailed guards in azure livery standing stiffly at attention. As the cart approached, these two crossed halberds with a clang before it. One said brusquely:

 

             
"State your business, sir!"

 

             
Thorolf noticed that the swords wo
rn by these two were not belayed to their scabbards by peace wires, as required of the civilians of Zurshnitt. He said: "We have the victim of a spell gone awry, and we are told that Doctor Orlandus can cure such maladies."

 

             
"Who is this victim?" snapped
the guard. "Is it ye?
"

 

             
"
Nay; she's in the tub. It is vital to keep her cov
ered."

 

             
The guard glowered. "Think ye we'd let such a mys
terious load into our headquarters uninspected? Ye maun be daft! Uncover it, Crasmund!"

 

             
"Ho!" cried Thorolf. "Don't

"

 

             
The other guard had already seized a corner of the sheet. Now he whipped it off and stared into the tub. He reeled back with a shriek: "A demon! A demon!"

 

             
"What?" cried the other guard, pushing forward for a look. "Nay, 'tis a monster!"

 

             
The carter ga
ve a squeal like that of a rusty hinge, leaped down from his seat, and ran.

 

             
"A demon, I say!" yelled the first guard.

 

             
"Nay, a monster!" shouted the second.

 

             
"A demon!"

 

             
"A monster!"

 

             
"A demon, as any nullwit can see!"

 

             
"Fools!" roared Thorolf. "It's my patient, for Doc
tor Orlandus to treat!"

 

             
"Demon or monster, I'll send it back to its native hell!" screamed the first guard, raising his halberd to thrust at Yvette with the spearhead on the end.

 

             
"Stop!" yelled Thorolf
. He sprang toward the first guard and seized the shaft of the halberd below the ax head. "You idiots, that's the Countess of Grintz, ensorceled!"

 

             
"Ha!" snorted the first guard, wrestling with Thorolf for possession of the halberd. "I once met a countess
, when I soldiered for the Count of Treveria, and she looked not at all like this! Guard! Turn out!"

 

             
With a mighty wrench, Thorolf tore the weapon from the guard. Losing his grip on the shaft, the guard, backed against the side of the cart, reached for h
is sword. He had it half out of the scabbard when a mot
tled, brown-and-white tentacle snaked out of the tub, caught him round the neck, and dragged him shrieking over the edge.

 

             
Sensing motion behind him, Thorolf whirled to meet the other guard. The man
swung his halberd in a de
capitating blow. Thorolf knew that, while the swing of this top-heavy weapon was slow enough to be usually evaded or parried, when such a blow got home it com
monly killed. He also knew that he fought at a disad
vantage. While th
e
guards seemed eager to kill him, he did not wish to slay either and thus foreclose all chance of help from Orlandus.

 

             
He caught the swing of the other halberd on the head of the one in his hands. The ax heads met with a hid
eous clang. Instead of retalia
ting in kind, Thorolf re
versed his shaft and rammed the butt into the guard's solar plexus. The coat of mesh mail and the padded acton beneath did little to break the force of the thrust; the man went sprawling on the cobbles, doubled up and clutching hi
s
midriff.

 

             
Thorolf turned to glimpse the carter in flight down the path up which they had come, and Doctor Bardi crawling under the cart. The legs of the guard whose halberd Thorolf had taken dangled kicking over the edge, of the tub, while from the tub c
ame the bubbling sounds of a man trying to shout with his face under water.

 

             
"What in the seven hells betides?" shouted another armored man, an officer from his scarlet insignia, is
suing from the portal at the head of a squad of blue-clad guards.

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