Still, no matter how much he berated himself as a sentimental fool, Thorolf still loitered in the Street of Clockmakers, pretending an avid interest in clocks while stealing sidelong glances at the bodeful battlements above. At the end of a week, he could stand the suspense no longer. He trudged up the path to the castle and told a mailed guard:
"Kindly take a message to Doctor Orlandus. I am Sergeant Thorolf, and I wish to know the state of the patient I left in his care."
When the guard departed, the other guard said: "Bean't ye he who last week brought some gigantical bug to the castle?"
"You may call it that." said Thorolf.
The guard returned, accompanied by a stout, scowling, red-haired man in a red robe. In no ingratiating tones, the redhead said: "Sergeant, the Master remembers you; but he cannot take time from his world-saving work to answer idle queries. Your Countess shall receive you on the day appointed, a sennight hence. Good day, sir."
The man walked away. The sight of smiles on the faces of the two guards infuriated Thorolf; but he held himself in check. A fight would do no good and, more likely, harm. Instead, he bent his steps toward the headquarters building of the Constabulary.
Gray-haired Chief Constable Lodar said: "The reason these wights roam abroad with swords unwired. Sergeant, is that I have a command from above to turn a blind eye to their venial offenses."
"What's 'above'?" demanded Thorolf. "My esteemed father?"
"Now, now, I would not mingle in a family dispute. Let's say that it came from those superior to me in the government."
"Have the Sophonomists infiltrated the Constabulary?"
"Not to my definite knowledge. Suspecting these men of ambitions inconsistent with proper duty, I have rejected applications when I was certain of such affiliation. But I doubt not that we have some amongst us, as a consequence of the death of Master Eberolf."
"What befell him?" asked Thorolf.
The Chief Constable looked about and lowered his voice. "He was a former Sophonomist who turned against the Order. He went about denouncing them and warning of their ambition to seize the rule of Rhaetia. Well, one morn he was found in an alley, strangled. I assigned Constable Hasding to investigate. He said he was making progress; but one day he fell, or was pushed, from high in the Temple of Irpo and slain. I sought the file of information Hasding had gathered on the death of Eberolf; and lo, 'twas missing! I suspect that someone in the corps extracted it. Other papers, too, are not where they should be in the files."
"If Orlandus be so great a mage," said Thorolf, "what needs he with planting spies in your midst to filch papers? Why could he not effect his desires by spells?"
"Imprimus, I doubt he's so puissant a wizard as he pretends; that tale of having studied the wisdom of the East in Serica is surely false. At the time he claimed to be so occupied, he was a petty thief in Letitia. Secondly, to make doubly sure that he cast no witchery upon us, I caused old Doctor Bardi to set up a protective spell on all the Constabulary, to render us proof against illusions, transformations, demonic possessions, and similar japes."
"If Orlandus plant spies amongst your men, why canst not do the same with him? His guards are ordinary men, unlike those delta-possessed diaphanes."
Lodar smiled quietly. "If we had such nameless informers at work, think ye we'd admit to it?"
Acknowledging the hint with a smile and a nod, Thorolf asked: "Hast heard what befell the Countess of Grintz, when at her behest Bardi tried to cast upon her an illusion spell?"
"I heard it made her into an eight-headed dragon; but I set that aside as mere rumor. We have had no reports of such a monster gobbling our citizens; not that some do not deserve that fate. What, then, did happen?"
Thorolf told his tale, adding: "As you see, dear old Bardi's work is not always to be depended upon."
"It seems to have worked for us," said Lodar. "We tested it, importing a wizard from Tzenric to cast the fellest spells in his armory upon Constable Prisco, who had volunteered."
"I'm happy not to have been in Prisco's boots. What befell?"
"The spell shed the wizard's attacks as featly as good plate armor sheds stones. The old fellow may not be so keen as a razor of the best trollish steel; but this time he was in the gold. We've sought to persuade the government to hire a first-rank wizard full-time, to protect us and the army; but the Senate hath balked at the expense."
"Gramercy for your news," said Thorolf. "Me-thinks I could use such a protective spell for dealing with Sophonomists."
Next day, Thorolf went to Bardi's house. When the last of Bardi's regular patients had departed, Thorolf told the iatromage:
"Doctor, I would that you gave me the same immunity spell that you cast upon the Constabulary. In six days I must needs fetch Yvette from Castle Zurshnitt. and you know what that may entail."
"Dear me!" Bardi mumbled. "I were glad to, my son, at my usual fee; but there's a difficulty."
"What is that?"
"I no longer have the spell to hand. 'Twas from a book—not one of mine, but one in the Horgus College Library. I copied it out on a paper, and anon I stowed this sheet betwixt the pages of one of those." A sweep of Bardi's bony hand indicated the disorderly rows of books on the sagging shelves.
"Well, why can't you simply take it out of the book in question?"
"Alas, I have forgotten which volume I placed it in."
Thorolf counted ten and then spoke with poorly concealed exasperation: "Then tell me which volume in the college library you took it from, and I'll make my own copy."
"Dear, dear, I have forgotten that, too!*'
"Well, you can go through every one of your own volumes until you come to it, can you not?"
"But that would waste days, and I could not afford the time, with the rent due in a week. Let me be for a few days; the title of one book or t'other will surely pop into mind."
Thorolf sighed. "Oh, well, let's go to dinner at Vasco's."
"Gramercy, albeit ye must not detain me there over-long. There is some reason why I must return to my house this even, but I cannot recall what it is."
"Ere we go," said Thorolf. "make sure your head be securely fastened, lest you forget it."
As they entered the Green Dragon, Vasco said: "Sergeant Thorolf, some men were here asking after you this afternoon."
"What sort of men?"
"Six or seven, clad as traveling merchants; but beneath their outer garments I espied the gleam of mail. The sword one wore was long enough to expose the chape below the hem of's cloak. They also inquired after your Countess."
"What did you tell them?"
"That I'd seen neither hide nor hair of you, or the Countess either, for above a sennight."
Thorolf exchanged glances with Bardi. "Did their speech betray their origin?"
Vasco chewed his lip before answering. "Meseems their speech bore the soft accents of Carinthia, albeit I'm no savant in such matters."
"Duke Gondomar's men, or I'm a Saracen," muttered Thorolf. To the innkeeper he said: "What is your choicest tonight, Vasco?"
At table, Thorolf discussed Duke Gondomar's persistent efforts to recapture his recreant betrothed. Bardi said: "If another magical menace threatened you, I might do something to protect you; but I am long past the age for swordplay. Belike ye could persuade a stout comrade-in-arms to accompany you in the city streets."
Back at Bardi's house, Thorolf was watching the iatromage putter among his books and paraphernalia when a fist assaulted the door.
"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Bardi. "What I had forgot was that the Executive Committee of the Magical Guild meets here tonight."