«No,» she said solemnly. «I do it not. So many responsibilities have I had that I’ve never learned. Another drink, please.»
«Oh, come on! I don’t, either, the way they do here. But we can try.»
«No,» she said. «Poor Britomart never indulges in the lighter pleasures. Always busy, righting wrongs and setting a good example of chastity. Not that anyone heeds it.»
Shea saw Chalmers slip Amoret a shot of whisky. The perfect beauty coughed it down. Then she began talking very fast about the sacrifices she had made to keep herself pure for her husband. Chalmers began looking around for help. Serves the Doc right, thought Shea. Britomart was pulling his sleeve.
«It’s a shame,» she sighed. «They all say Britomart needs no man’s sympathy. She’s the girl who can take care of herself.»
«Is it as bad as all that?»
«Mush worst. I mean much worse. They all say Britomart has no sense of humour. That’s because I do my duty. Conscientious. That’s the trouble. You think I have a sense of humour, don’t you, Master Harold de Shea?» She looked at him accusingly.
Shea privately thought that «they all» were right. But he answered: «Of course I do.»
«That’s splendid. It gladdens my heart to find someone who understands. I Like you, Master Harold. You’re tall, not like these little pigs of men around here. Tell me, you don’t think I’m too tall, do you? You wouldn’t say I was just a big blond horse?»
«Perish the thought!»
«Would you even say I was good-looking?»
«And how!» Shea wondered how this was going to end.
«Really, truly good-looking, even if I am tall?»
«Sure, you bet, honest.» Shea saw that Briromart was on the verge of tears. Chalmers was busy trying to staunch Amoret’s verbal haemorrhage, and couldn’t help.
«Thass glorious. I’m so glad to find somebody who likes me as a woman. They all admire me, but nobody cares for me as a woman. Have to set a good example. Tell you a secret.» She leaned towards him in such a marked manner that Shea glanced around to see whether they were attracting attention.
They were not. Sir Erivan, with a Harpo Marx expression, was chasing a plump, squeaking lady from pillar to pillar. The dancers were doing a snake dance. From one corner came a roar where knights were betting their shirts at knuckle-bones.
«Tell you shecret,» she went on, raising her voice. «I get tired of being a good example. Like to be really human. Just once. Like this.» She grabbed Shea out of his seat as if he had been a puppy dog, slammed him down on her lap, and kissed him with all the gentleness of an affectionate tornado.
Then she heaved him out of her lap with the same amazing strength and pushed him back into his place. «No,» she said gloomily. «No. My responsibilities. Must think on them.» A big tear rolled down her cheek. «Come, Amoret. We must to bed.»
* * *
The early sun had not yet reached the floor of the courtyards when Shea came back, grinning. He told Chalmers: «Say, Doc, silver has all kinds of value here! The horse and ass together only cost $4.60.»
«Capital! I feared some other metal would pass current, or that they might have no money at all. Is the. uh. donkey domesticated?»
«Tamest I ever saw. Hello, there, girls!» This was to Britomart and Amoret, who had just come out. Britomart had her armour on, and a stern, martial face glowered at Shea out of the helmet.
«How are you this morning?» asked that young man, unabashed.
«My head beats with the cruel beat of an anvil, as you must know.» She turned her back. «Come, Amoret, there is no salve like air, and if we start now we shall be at Satyrane’s castle as early as those who ride late and fast with more pain.»
«We’re going that way, too,» said Shea. «Hadn’t we better ride along with you?»
«For protection’s sake, mean you? Hah! Little enough use that overgrown bodkin you bear would be if we came to real combat. Or is it that you wish to ride under the guard of my arm?» She shook it with a clang of metal.
Shea grinned. «After all, you are technically my ladylove —» He ducked as she swung at him, and hopped back out of reach.
Amoret spoke up: «Ah, Britomart, but do me the favour of letting them ride with us! The old magician is so sympathetic.»
Shea saw Chalmers start in dismay. But it was too late to back out now. When the women had mounted they rode through the gate together. Shea rook the lead with grumpily silent Britomart. Behind him, he could hear Amoret prattling cheerfully at Chalmers, who answered in monosyllables.
The road, no more than a bridle path without marks of wheeled traffic, paralleled the stream. The occasional glades that had been visible near Castle Caultrock disappeared. The trees drew in on them and grew taller till they were riding through a perpetual twilight, only here and there touched with a bright fleck of sunlight.
After two hours Britomart drew rein. As Amoret came up, the warrior girl announced: «Time for a bath. Join me, Amorer?»
The girl blushed and simpered. «These gentlemen —»
«Are gentlemen,» said Britomart, with a glare at Shea that implied he had jolly well better be a gentleman or else. «We will halloo.» She led the way down the slope and between a pair of mossy trunks.
The two men strolled off a way and sat. Shea turned to Chalmers, «How’s the magic going?»
«Ahem,» said the professor. «We were right about the general worsening of conditions here. Everyone seems aware of it, but they don’t quite know what causes it or what to do about it.»
«Do you?»
Chalmers pinched his chin. «It would seem — uh — reasonable to suspect the operations of a kind of guild of evil, of which various enchanters, like this Busyrane mentioned last night, form a prominent part. I indicate the souring of the wine and the loss of the grapes as suggestive examples. It would not even surprise me to discover that a well-organized revolutionary conspiracy is afoot. The question of whether such a subversive enterprise is justified is of course a moral one, resting on that complex of sentiments which the German philosophers call by the characteristically formidable name of Weltansicht. It therefore cannot be settled by scientific —»
Shea said: «Yeah. But what can we do about it?»
«I’m not quite certain. The obvious step would be to observe some of these people in operation and learn something of their technique. This tournament — Good gracious, what’s that?»
From the river came a shriek. Shea stared at Chalmers for three seconds. Then he jumped up and ran towards the sound.
As he burst through the screen of brush, he saw the two women up to their necks in a little pool out near the middle of the river. Wading towards them, their backs to Shea, were two wild-looking, half-naked men in tartan kilts. They were shouting with laughter.
Shea did a foolish thing. He drew his épée, slid down the six-foot bank, and ploughed into the water after the men, yelling. They whirled about, whipped out broadswords from rawhide slings, and splashed towards him. He realized his folly: knee-deep in water he would be unable to use his footwork. At best his chances were no more than even against one of these men. Two.
The bell-guard of the épée gave a clear ringing note as he parried the first cut. His riposte missed but the kilted man gave a little. Shea out of the tail of his eye saw the other working around to get behind him. He parried, thrust, parried.
«Wurroo!» yelled the wild man, and swung again. Shea backed a step to bring the other into his field of vision. Cold fear gripped him lest his foot slip on an unseen rock. The other man was upon him, swinging his sword up with both hands for the kill. «Wurroo!» he yelled like the other. Shea knew sickeningly that he couldn’t get his guard around in time.