"Sirrah, who are ye who holds my affianced bride? Release her forthwith, or ye shall die the death!"
"I," said the other, "am the Reverend Doctor Parthenius, Prophet-in-Chief of the mighty Church of Sophonomy. As for the woman, she was happily rising in the ranks of my church when this miscreant—" he indicated Thorolf "—snatched her away. I have rescued her. And who in the seven hells be ye, to question me?"
The blond 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 Parthenius, seizing Yvette and pinioning 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 Yvette's high voice. "Why should all you brave warriors perish in a fribbling quarrel 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 Gondomar.
"A childish notion!" said Parthenius.
"Why not try it, your Grace?" said one of Gondomar'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 couple 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 helmet and drawing his sword. "Have at you!"
The swords 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 blades 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. As 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 viper's strike, Gondomar lunged and drove his point beneath the bars of Parthenius' helmet into the flesh below his 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!" said the Duke. "So ye are the terrible Sergeant 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 Thorolf; 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 leader. 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 thrusts 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 reasonable 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 fornicated!" cried Yvette. "He's under 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!" shrilled Yvette. None heeded.
A slash from Gondomar opened a slit in Thorolf's breeches and inflicted a shallow cut on the thigh beneath. 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 impaled, 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 members, 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 fluttered 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 the 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 against 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 the 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 trail 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 securely bound, Thoro
lf said:
"Stand up, your Grace; let's see what ails your leg."
Thorolf discovered his dagger embedded in the muscle 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.
"Stop her, Berthar!" said Thorolf. As the Director seized Yvette from behind, Thorolf continued: "See what a lucky escape you had, your Grace?" Then to Berthar and Yvette: "He's a valuable property. The Commonwealth can get some splendid reparations from this fellow in return for's liberty."
Yvette swore: "You're so damnably practical! Not a trace of romance!"
Thorolf ignored the statement. "Bind up his leg, Berthar; his wound is not grave. Then you might take care of mine." He turned to the Sophonomist guards. "What of you fellows? Your employers are dead, and your so-called Church is about to follow them into oblivion. What will you do for a living?"
An officer said: "Well, sir, we hadn't thought yet. Hast any ideas?"
"Aye, I have. Our regular army is short of men. If you'll return to Zurshnitt with me, I'll put in a good word for you at the barracks."
-
Days later, Thorolf dismounted from his mare and entered the Green Dragon, shaking snow from his cloak and stamping it from his boots. He wore his best civilian suit of scarlet doublet and azure breeches; his hair and beard were newly trimmed.
He found the Countess Yvette in the common room, gorgeous in a new emerald gown and holding court to a circle of adherents who had followed her into exile. She introduced Thorolf around:
"Sergeant, behold my loyal subjects: Sir Maximin, Coppersmith Clodomir, Tanner Gundobald, Attorney Siagro, Merchant Ursus, Captain Magnovald, Freeholder Cautinus ..."
She turned back to the group. "That is all for today, good people. I shall see you a sennight hence, when you shall tell me of your progress in raising loans and enlisting others in our righteous cause. Good night!"
When the followers had departed, Thorolf said: "How goes the government in exile?"
"Not so well as I should like, but better than I feared. My partisans pay my maintenance here. What of the Sophonomists?"
"Gone with the flowers of autumn. Parthenius had told the diaphanes to stay in the castle, knowing they'd soon be slaughtered in any fight. When he died, they wandered off; I ween their deltas have abandoned them, freeing them to return to normal lives. Orlandus' other officers have fled. When Lodar sent a squad of constables to the castle, they found no one within save a handful of gray-clad probationers who, refusing to believe that the cult was destroyed, continued their sweeping or polishing or whatever other duty their Masters had laid upon them."
"Couldst try to recover that golden gown they gave me?"
Thorolf shrugged. "I'll do what I can; I have filed a claim for the money we gave Orlandus to change you back to a woman. But others have also filed claims, and they speak of auctioning off abandoned property in the castle. So count no unhatched fowls."
She sighed. "A pity; in it I truly looked my rank. But what of you?"
"Not altogether well. Berthar failed of election to his Board; so my academic career seems as far off as ever."
"Why did Berthar fail?"
"For a fribbling reason. A member of the Board, Banker Gallus, sent his old horse to the park with a request that it be given a home for its final years. Berthar, who's a stickler for rules, told the fellow he'd do so if Gallus would furnish a stipend to cover the animal's food and care. The Board member refused, Berthar sent back the horse, and Gallus blackballed Berthar at the next meeting. This despite that she-dragon I captured for them! It confirms Doctor Vipsanio's philosophy of Chaoticism."
"Poor Berthar! Such a pleasant man, too. What of Duke Gondomar?"
"The Supreme Council got him to agree to a ten-thousand-mark reparation and a new commercial treaty. Some lawyers sniffed 'twas unconstitutional to let him go without trial, but the government overbore them. They're holding him till the money arrives. How much to heart his popeyed Grace will take the treaty, since it was extorted by duress, remains to be seen."
"How did he track us to the trollish village?"
Thorolf grinned. "I wondered, too. So I bought a keg of our best Rhaetian ale and had it borne to the cell where he waits. As cells go, it's comfortable. When I proposed that he and I have a beer guzzle, he huffed and puffed a bit, blowing his mustache out like a window curtain and popping his eyes at me like one of Berthar's snails. But at last he came round. I pointed out that, whereas we were foes in the last affray, we might be allies in the next.
"When he'd drunk enough to float a skiff, he told me. He was lurking in a secret camp when one of that trio who robbed Berthar straggled in and reported. Thereupon Gondomar set out with his company to seek our trail. They got lost or they'd have found us sooner. The uproar the trolls made when the Sophonomists approached revealed the direction they sought. At the end, he and I were singing drunken songs together, and he offered me a post in his forces."
"What wilt? Take up's offer?"
Thorolf shook his head. "I thought about it; I could do worse. But I'll apply for a permanent sergeancy here, unless I decide to go to Tyrrhenia as a mercenary."
"Why do that?"
"The Duke of Aemilia is raising a force for war with the Republic of Brandesco. He offers over twice what I'm now paid, and more than I should get from Gondomar. With care, a year with the Aemilians should save me enough to see me through my doctorate." Thorolf paused. "Yvette, I love you. If you'll wed me, I will stay and make do on my present pay."
She turned to him. "Dear Thorolf! Forsooth, I love you, too, after a sort. But I will marry none not of noble blood, nor one so prosaically practical as a Rhaetian." Watching Thorolf s face fall, she continued: "I confess I owe you for all you've done, and honor demands repayment. You are a true hero in your stolid way."
"Just luck, my dear, as when Orlandus obligingly fell out the window, or Regin warned me of the Sophonomists' plot, or you pinked Gondomar in the leg. But—ah ..."
"If you mean money, all the funds I can raise are bespoken for recovery of my country."
Thorolf snorted. "I would not take money! Really, Yvette, I may be a Rhaetian, but I'm not so crassly commercial as all that!"
"Well, then, I could give you the pleasure of my body for the night—or even several nights, until I depart for Grintz."
Thorolf shook his head. "Your offer mightily tempts me, but that's not what I seek. I'm thirty, and it is time I were properly matched. We call it 'settling down.' "
She flared up. "You have the insolence to reject me!"
"My apologies, your Highness."
"Eunuch! Androgyne! Capon!" She calmed herself. "I'm sorry; I suppose you have some priggish Rhaetian reason. What were the harm?"
"None whatever, save that I should then become your slave, unable to leave your side to pursue my academic career. I am not cut out for a lady's fancy man."
"So, it's well and good for me to become your slave, which is all a Rhaetian housewife is? You know I'm abler than most men!"
Thorolf shrugged. "So we have an impasse, like one of those paradoxes professors tell of, with no true, just, and sensible answer. Hence I'm off to Tyrrhenia. Belike I shall meet one of that gang who slew my friend Bardi and use him as he deserves."
"If only you had a drop of noble blood and weren't so damnably Rhaetian!"
Thorolf rose, sa
ying:
-
"My lady may yearn
For adventures archaic,
And suitors all spurn
As ignoble or laic,
The Pixilated Peeress Page 18