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, Thorolf 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."