“Oh, Egert. And here I was, ready to think the worst of you!” She smiled delicately. “Your duels mean more to you than your love. I’m quite jealous of your duels, Egert!” The captain’s wife tossed her head so that her dark curls would spread out over the pillow as alluringly as possible. “Just because you killed some student, is that really a reason to neglect your Dilia for so long?”
Trying not to look into the shadowy corners of the bedroom, Egert muttered a sugary compliment. Dilia purred and continued, threading her voice with velvet undertones. “But now, your conduct gives me the chance to forgive you. I know what these maneuvers mean to a guard. You have sacrificed your beloved games and you should be rewarded.” Dilia leaned forward, her lips half-open, and Egert caught the heady scent of roses wafting from her skin. “You should be properly rewarded.”
He took a deep breath; tender little fingers were already struggling with the buttons of his uniform.
“Let my husband sleep in a bunk and be food for mosquitoes, yes, Egert? We have the entire night and tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. Isn’t that right, Egert? That scar, it suits you so well. This will be our best time ever.”
She helped him undress or, more accurately, he helped her to undress him. Vanishing into the bed, he felt how her body, smooth as silk, burned like fire. Sliding his palms down her taut sides, Egert shivered: he had stumbled upon something iron, warmed by the beauty’s hot blood.
Dilia burst out into sonorous laughter. “It’s a chastity belt! A little gift from your captain, Egert!”
Before he really had time to understand her words, she shifted and fished a small, steel key out from under a pillow.
For a few minutes, Egert was able to forget about his worries. Chuckling, he listened to the tale of how this enchanted key had been born, fully formed, from a bar of soap. Before his excursion, the captain had decided to take a bath. Dilia, with touching concern, had asked if she could help him. When the cuckold had finally succumbed to the lapping of the warm water and the tender caresses of her soft palms, she slyly plucked the key from the chain that was hanging around the captain’s neck and pressed it into a bar of soap. The captain set off for the maneuvers, clean and satisfied that all would be well at home while he was gone.
The chastity belt fell to the floor with a thud like a small, iron fetus.
There was a breathless silence in the house. The servants had apparently left for the night, and the chambermaid had gone to bed. Caressing the wife of his captain, Egert could not chase away the thought that it took less than two hours to travel from the guards’ field camp to town.
“Egert,” whispered the beauty passionately, and a voluptuous smile revealed her gleaming teeth. “It’s been so long, Egert. Embrace me.”
Egert obediently embraced her, and a poignant wave of passion surged through him. The beauty groaned: Egert’s kiss seemed to reach right down through her. Moving against each other smoothly and rhythmically, they were both about to ascend on the wings of bliss when Egert’s sensitive ear caught the sound of a rustle beyond the door.
Thus does white-hot steel suffer when it is tossed into icy water. Egert froze, his skin immediately covered in large beads of sweat.
The captain’s wife, having moaned a few more times in solitude, opened her eyes in astonishment. “Egert?”
He swallowed sticky, viscous spittle. The rustle repeated itself.
“It’s just mice.” Dilia breathed a sigh of relief. “What’s wrong, my love?”
Egert did not know what was wrong with him. The image of the captain, hunkering down in front of the door and peering through the keyhole, arose before his eyes. “I’ll take a look,” gasped Egert. He grabbed a candlestick and hastened to the door.
A small gray mouse skipped backwards but, being somewhat more daring than Lieutenant Soll, did not immediately dash into its hole. Instead it stopped just at the threshold, its inquisitive black eyes glittering up at Egert.
Egert wanted to kill it.
Dilia waited for him with an indulgent grin on her face. “Oh, these guards! Why this whimsy, Egert? Why are you teasing me? Come to me, my lieutenant.”
And again she wrapped her arms around him, but Egert, expertly caressing this swooning, feminine body, remained cold and unresponsive.
Then, bringing her lips right up to his ear, Dilia began to whisper tenderly, “We’re alone, alone in this house. Your captain is now far away, Egert. You don’t hear his steps on the stairs. He’s there in the camp, in his tent, guarding his flock. He’s a stalwart captain; he checks on the sentries every hour. Hold me, my valiant Egert: we have the whole night ahead of us.”
Lulled by her whispers, he finally stopped listening so attentively, and his young passion again took the upper hand. His body found its former strength and tension. It burned. It came back to life. Dilia purred and bit down on his shoulder; Egert sank into her with uncontrollable greed. The sweetest moment was near when the front door banged open; the sounds of furtive footsteps could be heard from below.
The world went dark in front of Egert’s eyes; all his blood, set on fire by passion, rushed away from his face, which gleamed milky white in the half-darkness. Cold sweat dropped onto the delicate skin of the beauty under him. Shivering as if from fever, Egert slithered off her and crawled to the side of the bed.
Subdued voices chattered below. Dishes clinked in the kitchen. It was amazing how sharp Egert’s hearing was at that moment! Again footsteps, a hushed curse, a hiss calling for silence …
“It’s the servants returning,” Dilia explained languorously. “Really, Egert, this isn’t the way to behave toward a woman in love.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Egert wrapped his naked arms around his chest. Heaven, why was he such a disgrace! He wanted to flee without looking back, but the thought of running and thereby leaving Dilia at a loss caused his jaw to clench.
“What’s wrong with you, my dear friend?” the captain’s wife asked quietly from behind his back.
He wanted to lash out at himself, beat away this horror, but instead he unclenched his teeth, scarcely feeling the pain in his jaw.
“Egert”—bitter pique slithered into Dilia’s voice—“don’t you love me anymore?”
I’m sick, Egert wanted to say, but then he thought better of it and kept quiet. Heaven, that would be an idiotic thing to do!
“I love you,” he said hoarsely.
The servants below finally settled down, and the house was once again steeped in silence.
“Did I take off my chastity belt for nothing?” Dilia’s words, venomous as a poisoned dart, stabbed Egert’s naked back.
And again, he conquered himself. Cold and clammy, he crawled back under the blanket: Dilia might as well have been lying next to a frog or a newt. The beauty, insulted, pulled back, but Egert drew her to himself with wooden arms.
Miraculously, his body was still strong and voracious. Having twice survived a shock, it still again desired love, like a bonfire, mercilessly doused with water, can still restore itself from a single spark.
Dilia revived as well, meeting him halfway; within a few minutes, the room resounded with lustful growls. Egert was intent on his goal, no longer thinking of pleasure: the sooner he could get this business over with and reclaim whatever small shreds of his former reputation that were left, the better. Only a few seconds remained until the desired end. The entire house was sunk in silence, the town was sleeping, tranquillity covered the entire midnight world, and it seemed there was nothing that could keep Egert from finishing what he had started, when once again the image of the captain, rushing into the room accompanied by Dron and the guards, reared up in his imagination. The picture was so clear and vivid that Egert even saw the streaks of red in their bloodshot eyes, and he could practically feel a rough, gnarled hand seizing the edge of the blanket. Egert winced, imagining the kick that would come next.