"Coward!" sneered Gontran. "Count, ye are the most learned amongst us. Who is Yolanda's legal husband?"
"Certes, ye are! Since your marriage came first and was terminated neither by annulment nor by death, it still abides. The rest of us are but unwitting adulterers, who thought we were wedding a virtuous widow—"
Eudoric interrupted: "But Gontran has been declared legally dead, in consequence of his 'disappearance.' So for that matter have the other twain of you. Were your marriages not ended by this procedure?"
"Under some circumstances, yea," said the count. "But where the spouse averring the disappearance hath actually immured the vanished one, keeping him or her incommunicado, the rule is that of the case of Chararic versus Thrasamund—"
"Adulterers!" roared Gontran, whose mind had at last caught up with the implications of the count's words. "Then ye've made a cuckold of me! By the Three True Gods, this stain upon mine honor must needs be cleansed with blood!'
"Seize him!" shouted Eudoric, hurling himself upon Gontran. He bore the warrior to the floor while Landwin, Sugerius, and Forthred grasped the Tolosan's limbs. Gontran was as strong as a bear; but the combined strength of the four proved too much for him. After he had struggled until he was red in the face, he finally subsided. Gripping Gontran's massive right arm with both of his, Eudoric looked up at Tsudai, who was busy removing magical apparatus from nearby tables to place it out of danger of breakage.
"Doctor! Canst tie him up?"
"This minor person can better that, noble sir. Tell him that, an he be not quiet, I'll put him back into stasis, as he was ere I cast off the spell."
When the thought had been repeatedly explained to Gontran, the warrior yielded. "And we'll borrow that great sword of yours," said Eudoric, pulling it out of the scabbard, "lest in a moment of passion you injure someone."
Gontran subsided, sitting hunched on the floor against a table, muttering: "... stain on mine honor ... stain on mine honor ..."
"Now, gentlemen," continued Eudoric, "what are your plans? Mine is to flee forthwith back to Locania. We had better move yarely, for the hour of Yolanda's return comes on amain and apace. Forthred, pray pack us for departure."
"My palfrey must yet be in Yolanda's stables, unless the poor beast have died," said the count. "I'll find the horse and hie me back to my demesne of Perigez, to complete my doctoral thesis, 'The Incest Motif in Helladic Drama.' It grieves me to leave behind a parcel of my precious books, but one must weigh the alternatives."
"I'd go with you, Sir Eudoric," said Landwin, "had I a horse; since Kromnitch lies nigh to the path to Arduen."
"Good!" said Eudoric. "I have a spare horse for you. That leaves you, Sir Gontran, master of the field, if one can call the fair Yolanda that. Alas! She's a splendid woman in her way; or would be without this passion for tyranny."
"I may depart also, when I've thought about it," rumbled Gontran.
"She would have been king instead of Clothar," said Landwin. " 'Tis pity your laws permit not reigning queens. But if the rest of us flee, Sir Eudoric, why remain you not to tame this proud beauty? Meseems you be the one best qualified for this task, and she's a worthy prize for a hero."
"Gramercy," said Eudoric, "but the liontamer's part becharms me not. It calls for a Sigvard Dragon-slayer or an Erpo Giantkiller; and I do not deem myself fit for that role."
"But think of the perquisites! Think of having a king for patron!"
Eudoric shook his head. "For a while, during our journey, meseemed the adversities of travel would render her a more tolerable companion. But once on her own ground, she waxed as imperious as ever. I went fishing for perch and caught a whale.
"Besides, back home I know a more companionable lass, who if a trifle less beautiful is infinitely more even-tempered."
"That were easy," said Landwin, "since our wife-in-common is the least even-tempered person I've ever known." He picked his lute off a shelf. "I'm ready."
Gontran rumbled: "A word of advice! Honor forbids me to punish you libertines ere ye depart; but guard yourselves if we meet anon upon the road."
"Thankee for the warning," said Landwin, opening the door. Instantly he leaped back with a screech. "By all the fiends, what's this?"
"Doctor Tsudai's pet dragon," said Eudoric. "It will hold off the marids whilst we make our escape. Then he'll return it to its proper world. Come on, everyone!"
XVIII – Flowers in Fall
Landwin and Forthred were down at the River Mosarn, bathing. Eudoric, who had already had his bath, did on his forester's garb and set himself to kindling a fire. Another day's travel would bring them to the borders of the Empire.
The snap of a trodden twig brought Eudoric round. At the edge of the glade, Sir Gontran of Tolosa strode out from under the lofty, leafless trees, wearing his mailshirt and grasping his sword in both scarred hands. When Eudoric sprang up to face him, he said:
"Ha, my fine lecher! I warned you to guard your vile self! Have at thee!"
As he lofted the two-handed sword, Eudoric drew his own weapon. The thought flashed through his mind to yell for his companions; but what could they do, arriving unarmed and naked, and neither one a fighter? Eudoric's armor and his crossbow, either of which might have shifted the odds, were lashed in a bundle on a spare horse.
Eudoric feared that, if he parried so as to meet the big sword squarely, his lighter blade might break. He parried the first swing slantwise, so that the two-bander skittered off.
"Be not a zany!" he shouted at Gontran. "If neither of us wants the jade, what are we fighting for?"
"Honor!" roared Gontran, making another swing. "Methinks ye Imperials know nought of honor. Well, I'll teach thee!"
Another swing, another parry. Eudoric's arm tingled with the impact.
"Honor, hell!" said Eudoric. "You wear a mailshirt; I, nought but this leathern jack."
"That's thy misfortune. I warned thee." Another swing; Eudoric's heel caught on a root, so that he stumbled back and barely avoided another powerful slash.
"Stand and fight, dancing master!" howled Gontran. Round and round they went, swords clanging. Eudoric began to tire; but so, he saw, did Gontran. The warrior's face was scarlet with effort and dripped with sweat, even in the cool autumnal air.
Then came the instant for which Eudoric had been waiting. Gontran paused to catch his breath, standing with feet widely braced and the long sword held before him with the blade slanting up towards Eudoric. Eudoric whipped up his own blade and captured Gontran's near the tip in a prise. He forced the hostile blade around in a circle, which threw it out of line. A quick advance brought Eudoric past Gontran's point and within his own sword's reach of his foe.
Eudoric lunged. Instead of aiming for Gontran's mailed chest, he drove his blade into the warrior's right thigh, protected only by woolen breeches. He felt the point bite through.
Gontran gave an animal-like howl and started to raise his sword. Eudoric skipped back out of reach as Gontran's wounded leg folded beneath him, spilling him into the leaf mold. As Gontran struggled into a half-sitting position, still gripping his sword, Eudoric aimed a mighty cut at Gontran's neck. The warrior threw up his left arm, into which the blade bit. Eudoric sent a backhanded blow towards the other side of the exposed neck; he missed and laid open Gontran's cheek.
Landwin and Forthred ran up, dripping. Landwin said: "What's—we heard the clash—"
Eudoric made a thrust at Gontran's throat. Gontran jerked aside, so that the blade pierced his shoulder muscle; the push toppled the massive man over on his back. He lay moving his heavy limbs like a wounded insect.