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"Canst imagine what the good folk of Zurshnitt would think, if they saw a monstrous polyp climbing down the sheet by its tentacles? Besides which, the ter­rified carter would flee ere she reached the ground."

Bardi sighed. "It would simplify matters an ye boiled her up and ate her, as ye say they do in Tyrrhenia."

"An ill-timed jest," growled Thorolf. "I may not be a perfect gentle knight of romance, but I have some sense of responsibility. I have it! We'll buy the tub, rent the cartage, and I shall carry Yvette out wrapped in a wet bedsheet. I'll tell Vasco that the Countess be de­parted, and this bundle be the dirty linens from our travels, which I am taking to the washerwoman."

" 'Twould require a journey to Pantorozia and back, not a day's fishing, to accumulate so much wash," said the mage doubtfully.

"Cannot be helped. Now we shall catch a wink of slumber." Thorolf pulled off his boots. "Luckily the bed is big enough for the twain. You're not the bedmate I should have chosen; but if you thrash about not, we shall manage."

-

With the first dawnlight, Thorolf yawned, stretched, and came fully awake. He found Bardi already up, sitting on the dressing chair and trimming his fingernails. Tho­rolf pulled on his boots, saying:

"I'm off, Doctor, and may be gone some small time. You shall remain to guard the door and keep Yvette company whilst I seek the needfuls. For reasons I need not recapitulate, I expect you to pay for these pur­chases."

"Such a mercenary springald!" grumped Bardi. "A warrior true is a reckless spendthrift."

"I profess not to be a warrior true; I save to pay for the professors' fees when I study for my doctorate. And tell that to my father, who ever chides me on my lack of proper Rhaetian rapacity! So pay me now!" With a menacing scowl, Thorolf presented his palm.

"Dear me!" Grumbling, Bardi fumbled in his purse. "How much?"

"Ten marks should cover."

"But what shall I do for food?" queried the an­cient. "Your Countess, likewise, will require aliment."

"You could climb into the tub and let her breakfast on you, if your tissues prove not too tough and stringy."

"Now who makes jokes in ill-taste? I'm sure she would find a plump fish more to her liking."

"I'll fetch you a bun and the Countess a fish," said Thorolf. "I'll tell Vasco that my lady be ill of a con­tagious disease, wherefor you are treating her; and his folk must on no account enter herein. That is no great falsehood, either."

"One thing more," said Bardi. "The polyp, I infer, is a creature of the sea. When ye fill this other tub, add a spoonful of salt, for your lady's health."

-

Noon was nigh when Thorolf returned. He handed Bardi his bun, unwrapped a carp, and dropped it into the tub. A tentacle whipped the fish out of sight beneath the umbrella of arms.

When mage and monster had finished their repasts, Thorolf gathered up the sheet and dipped it into the water. With Bardi's help, he spread it out on the floor and motioned Yvette to climb out on it.

She seemed reluctant to leave the water but at last appeared to grasp the idea. Over the edge she came, first writhing tentacles, then slit-pupiled eyes, and at last the bulky, boneless bag of a body. She coiled her­self into a mottled brown lump on the sheet, watching Thorolf with unwinking stare as he made a small bun­dle of Yvette's garments, borrowed from Vulfilac the smith.

Thorolf gathered the corners of the sheet and tied them together into a bag. He picked up the improvised sack.

"Is she heavy?" asked Bardi.

"No more than when she was human, which is to say a little above a hundred. Come along!"

They went down with Thorolf cradling the bundle. Vasco appeared, saying: "How doth your lady, Ser­geant? Ye told me she ailed."

"Much better now, thanks to Doctor Bardi. She's al­ready gone forth. The good Doctor will pay the scot, and your sheet shall be returned on the morrow."

Thorolf strode out, leaving a quietly fuming Bardi fumbling in his purse. The cart stood beneath the tub, to the sides of which were affixed handles for carrying.

Bardi appeared, saying: "Is that all, Sergeant? I'm fain to return to my sanctum."

"Nay. sir!" said Thorolf sternly. "You shall remain with me until we have delivered her."

He climbed up on the wheel of the cart and dumped his bundle into the tub, saying to the carter in the local dialect: "This is a rare fish, meant as a gift to the King of Carinthia if we can keep it alive. Goodman Wentz, wilt take a look at your mule's off rear foot? Methought it limped a trifle on our way hither."

Cursing under his breath, the carter climbed down from his perch and examined the hoof. While he did so, Thorolf untied the corners of the sheet and pulled it out from under Yvette. He spread the sheet over the tub.

"Nought amiss here," the carter grumbled, resum­ing his place. "Good; let's go!"

-

Long before, when Rhaetia had been under the kings of Carinthia, the kings' servants had erected a frowning castelet on a hill in the midst of Zurshnitt, to house the garrison and overawe the citizens. Since independence, Zurshnitt had grown far beyond its former boundaries. Left derelict, Zurshnitt Castle had been bought and re­furbished by the Order of Sophonomy.

Thorolf and Bardi walked through the Street of Clockmakers to the base of Castle Hill, followed by the cart. When the slope steepened, the mule balked until Thorolf put his massive shoulder to the tail of the cart and pushed. The street became a winding path to the castle gate.

The curtain wall with its corner turrets was made of a gray gneiss, in which flakelets of mica sparkled in the sunshine. Reaching the gate of Zurshnitt Castle slightly out of breath, Thorolf saw a pair of chain-mailed guards in azure livery standing stiffly at attention. As the cart approached, these two crossed halberds with a clang before it. One said brusquely:

"State your business, sir!"

Thorolf noticed that the swords worn by these two were not belayed to their scabbards by peace wires, as required of the civilians of Zurshnitt. He said: "We have the victim of a spell gone awry, and we are told that Doctor Orlandus can cure such maladies."

"Who is this victim?" snapped the guard. "Is it ye?"

"Nay; she's in the tub. It is vital to keep her cov­ered."

The guard glowered. "Think ye we'd let such a mys­terious load into our headquarters uninspected? Ye maun be daft! Uncover it, Crasmund!"

"Ho!" cried Thorolf. "Don't—"

The other guard had already seized a corner of the sheet. Now he whipped it off and stared into the tub. He reeled back with a shriek: "A demon! A demon!"

"What?" cried the other guard, pushing forward for a look. "Nay, 'tis a monster!"

The carter gave a squeal like that of a rusty hinge, leaped down from his seat, and ran.

"A demon, I say!" yelled the first guard.

"Nay, a monster!" shouted the second.

"A demon!"

"A monster!"

"A demon, as any nullwit can see!"

"Fools!" roared Thorolf. "It's my patient, for Doc­tor Orlandus to treat!"

"Demon or monster, I'll send it back to its native hell!" screamed the first guard, raising his halberd to thrust at Yvette with the spearhead on the end.

"Stop!" yelled Thorolf. He sprang toward the first guard and seized the shaft of the halberd below the ax head. "You idiots, that's the Countess of Grintz, ensorceled!"

"Ha!" snorted the first guard, wrestling with Thorolf for possession of the halberd. "I once met a countess, when I soldiered for the Count of Treveria, and she looked not at all like this! Guard! Turn out!"

With a mighty wrench, Thorolf tore the weapon from the guard. Losing his grip on the shaft, the guard, backed against the side of the cart, reached for his sword. He had it half out of the scabbard when a mot­tled, brown-and-white tentacle snaked out of the tub, caught him round the neck, and dragged him shrieking over the edge.