The man threw the stump of his sword at Thorolf, who ducked. Then both robbers fled along the trail. Thorolf ran after them; but they steadily widened the gap between them and their pursuer. Breathing hard, Thorolf came back to where Berthar was gathering up the loot that the robbers had dropped.
"Thorolf!" exclaimed Berthar. "I never expected rescue. If ever I take my seat on the Board, you shall have an appointment for the asking. 'Twere useless for me to fight at those odds."
Thorolf bent over the fallen man, who was beginning to revive. Thorolf put the point of his sword to the man's throat, saying: "Correct me if I err, sirrah, but methinks you're one of those rascals sent by the Duke of Landai, who assailed my father and me on the banks of the Rissel last month. Did Gondomar also command you to rob honest citizens of Rhaetia?"
When the man merely glared in silence, Thorolf pushed his sword a little harder. "Ouch!" said the man. "If I answer, will you then slay me?"
"Nay. I promise not to—this time, anyway—an your replies be truthful. I know enough of your doings to catch you in lies. Swink you still for the Duke?"
"Nay. We decided in council to quit his service."
"After you took the old wizard's treasure chest. Why didst kill poor old Bardi?"
" 'Twas not I but Ragned who cut his throat, whilst Offo held him. He'd begun to mutter some spell. Had we not killed him, he had conjured up some demon or monster to slay us instead."
"After you killed him, what then?"
"We agreed it were more profitable to divide the loot and go our ways than to go on risking our lives for this niggardly Duke. Besides, we and our comrades had thrice failed in our efforts to capture that countess with whom he's besotted, and his Pomposity would have taken a fourth failure ill indeed."
"How gat you the chest open, since it was locked by a magical spell?"
"We took it to one of your Zurshnitt magicians," said the robber.
"Which? Methinks I know, but tell me natheless."
"Ouch! Pray, stop prodding me with that thing. 'Twas Doctor Avain."
"Thought so. There were seven of you. What's befallen the others?"
"When we divided the contents, Lodovic accused our captain, Cheldimus, of cheating him, and Cheldimus stabbed Lodovic. That left six to share. Cheldimus took his portion and vanished, saying he was bound for Tyrrhenia to buy an estate and retire. Something about beating's hanger into a plowshare. Ragned got drunk and boasted, so the constables took him. I ween he's been hanged."
"Not yet but soon. Go on!"
"That left Offo. His pelf was stolen by a whore he bedded; I know not whither he went."
"And the surviving trio?"
"Alas! Drink and gambling and whoring frittered away our fortunes at a rate ye could scarce believe. Ere we knew, we were down to our last few coins. We durst not return to Landai, for the Duke would hang us for flouting his commands. So here we are—or at least, here am I. Now, wilt abide your promise to let me live?"
"Aye," said Thorolf, "for now. If I meet you again, you're a dead man. But first I'll collect a small bounty, as you were doing to Doctor Berthar. Take his weapons and purse, Berthar; and pull off that mail shirt and hood ... We can use those good boots, too. Give me his dagger, pray; I lost mine."
Berthar unclasped the gold-and-garnet brooch that held the robber's cloak. "Ho!" cried the robber. "Take not my cloak, I beg; or I shall freeze to death on these cold nights!"
"I will let him keep his cloak," said Berthar. "But one of those who fled got away with my good clasp; so I'll keep this one."
Thorolf looked around to see Yvette approaching. He said: "Madam, do you remember Doctor Berthar, of the Zoological Park?"
Berthar was struggling with the mail hood, the links of which had been driven by the stone into the flesh of the robber's cheek and ear. The Carinthian bled freely when the mesh was pulled away.
"I remember Doctor Berthar," Yvette said, "though my memories of the time I was possessed are vague and dreamy. Greetings, Doctor. Thorolf, I'm surprised that one as powerful as you failed to catch those twain."
Thorolf grinned embarrassedly. "Running is not my strongest point."
"No wonder, with that great mass of flesh! You should starve yourself down to slimness like unto mine. Then you could outrun such cullions."
"Madam!" said Thorolf. "That at which you cavil is not fat but solid thew. If you believe me not, I'll swing you round my head by the ankles to prove it, as I did with that soldier who jeered at my morals."
"Doctor Berthar! Wilt stand by and let this gorbellied lob shend me with insults?"
"My dear Countess," said Berthar, "since he hath half mine age and twice my size, I see not what I can do about it. Certes, the sight of your Highness being whirled about thus were a robustious spectacle. He'd fling you into the next province."
"Trust you men to hang together!" she snapped.
"Anyway," said Thorolf, "nought incites a man to speed like a deadly foe in pursuit. You may doff my socks, Yvette, ere they crumble like last month's journey cake, and put this rogue's shoon on over yours. Methinks they're big enough."
"I will also take his cloak," she said. "These flimsy nightclothes suffice me not in this clime."
The captive started to protest, but a flourish of Thorolf's sword silenced him. Thorolf turned to Berthar. "What brings you into the Sharmatts?"
"A little red-and-black salamander," Berthar replied, "like unto that which you saw in my chamber. It lurks under stones by day. Now they'll be hibernating, and I hope to gather a few for my terraria."
"Why should anyone," began Yvette in scornful tones, "take trouble over a tiny, wormy lizard—"
Berthar interrupted: "But this is a rare specimen, not hitherto known from this region! If these prove a new species, I may have it named for me!" He bent to peer at the prostrate Carinthian. "Sirrah, be ye not one of the rogues who, essaying to kidnap Countess Yvette, delivered my dragon from his cage?"
"Well—ah—" mumbled the man, "we sought not to harm anyone; merely to create a diversion ..."
"Diversion!" shouted Berthar. "Risking the life of my priceless specimen! For that ye shall suffer the extremest penalty!"
Yvette spoke: "Forsooth, Thorolf, what meanst to do with this knave?"
"I promised not to kill him; so I shall let him go."
"What?" cried Berthar. "A mad idea! He should be haled back to Zurshnitt to stand trial for his felonies. It is the court's business whether to lengthen his neck or shorten it."
"Nonsense!" said Yvette. "You'd make a pother over nought. Thorolf, all we need is one good slash, and we can bury the head and the body."
"Not done in our orderly, legal manner, madam," said Berthar.
"Oh, futter your republican legalisms!" she snapped. "You idiot, the right thing is to kill him, and the sooner the better."
"I cannot," said Thorolf. "I promised, even though I owe him a debt for his part in my friend's murder. But to slay him now were dishonorable."
"Honor! You?" cried Yvette scornfully. "There's no such thing in Rhaetia, since you have no nobles—not even knights. / could not slay him after promising life; but with you—"
"I have mine own code of honor—" began Thorolf, but she rushed on:
"My dear Sergeant, persons of the lower classes have no concern with honor. As commoners go you're a fine fellow; but for you to prate of honor is like a frog lecturing on literary style."
Thorolf snorted angrily; but Berthar spoke: "The main thing is to assure a swift, just punishment; and that means—"
"And how wouldst get him to Zurshnitt by yourself?" asked Thorolf.
"Ye could hold him prisoner whilst I went to town and sent the constables—"
"You mean, stand over this wittol for a week? Be not absurd—"
"You're two hairsplitting noddies!" shrilled Yvette. "The only sane course—"