The Pixilated Peeress (14 page)

             
Thorolf noted: "I do perceive that your post be not one for weaklings. How flourishes the park?"

             
Th
e Director shrugged. "As usual. It were a dire calamity had our prize specimen escaped. Obeying its natural instincts, it would have snapped up a tasty cit
izen or two. Then nought would have dissuaded your thick-skulled military from slaying the beast, a
s
if one mountain dragon were not worth a score of human be
ings."

             
Thorolf raised his
eyebrows
. "How reckon you that?"

             
"The mountain dragon is an endangered species, whereas the world swarms with humanity. Man is in no danger of extermination, unless it
destroy itself by d
e
v
ilis
h
novel weapons like those Serican thunder tubes I hear of. It would serve the species right."

             
Thorolf gave a quiet laugh. "I never thought of it thus. Doubtless being human has warped my think
ing."

             
"No species outranks any
other in the eyes of the gods!" Berthar leaned forward. "Thorolf, know ye that I have a special fund for the acquisition of rare speci
mens, from donations by some wealthy citizens? Could I but obtain a female mountain dragon, 'twere worth ten thousand ma
r
ks to its captor."

             
Thorolf whistled. "A lot of money for one stupid, dangerous beast!"

             
"My great ambition is to breed the creatures, and our lone specimen is a male." Glancing at the closed door, the director lowered his voice. "I have a personal reaso
n to boot. I have long been an active alumnus of Horgus College. My banker friends tell me that, an I can bring off this feat, they'll see me elected to the Board."

             
"Alas!" said Thorolf. "I fear my soldierly duties leave me little time for dragon hunting
. Anyway, how should I know a female dragon? How does one tell?"

             
"The female lacks the crest and the hornlike knobs above the eyes of the male. Some still roam the higher ranges, in trollish territory. Here, let me give you a copy of my monograph on the
beast. I plan a journey into mountain-dragon land, if I can get the trolls' per
mission. "

             
"Thanks. To hunt your dragon?"

             
"Nay; for that I lack the means. 'Twould need a nu
merous party, sure to arouse the trolls' suspicion. What I seek is less formida
ble." He pointed to the terrarium.

             
Thorolf bent over the glass enclosure, seeing a sur
face of pebbles, sand, and moss, with water at one end. In the water a finger-long black newt with red spots on its hide moved slowly about with languid waves of its
tail.

             
"What's that?" asked Thorolf. "Some kind of liz
ard?"

             
"Nay; a salamander of a kind hitherto unreported from Rhaetia."

             
"What's the difference?"

             
"Lizards live wholly on land, whereas salamanders are hatched in water, like tadpoles, and dwell bo
th in water and on land. The great Doctor Karlovius at Saalingen, who reduced the chaos of the animal world to orderly families, genera, and species, hath made the distinction clear. I seek additional samples; less im
pressive than a dragon, belike, but n
o
t without signifi
cance in the heavenly scheme. If it differ sufficiently from the lowland type, I may have an unreported new species. Meanwhile, I pray, bear my dragon offer in mind."

             
"I shall, if I ever return to academe."

             
"I've heard of your scholar
ly troubles. Couldst not apply to some other center of learning?"

             
"So I did; but each demanded my scholarly records. Then they wrote to Horgus, and the replies they gat did damn me." He rose. "Thanks for the drink. My lady hungers, so we shall be off."

-

             
Thorolf took Yvette to the Green Dragon Inn and sent Orlandus' carriage and driver away. Yvette limped slightly as they entered the inn. To Thorolf's question she replied:

             
"I hurt my toe when I kicked that scrowle in's man
hood. These shoon you bough
t me were too light for such footballery; next time I shall wear mountaineer's boots."

             
Thorolf asked Vasco if the room they had occupied before was vacant and engaged it for the night. Yvette stood silently by. Vasco gave the couple a sharp look, suppres
sed a smile, and handed Thorolf the key. "Wilt sup here, Sergeant?"

             
"Aye," Thorolf said. In the common room, Thorolf hung Yvette's gray cloak on a peg and held a chair for her. He almost whistled at the sight of the costly golden gown. It was a shimmery beaded affair, far too dressy for Vasco's, which was largely frequent
e
d by salesmen for Zurshnitt's far-famed clocks and cutlery. A large ruby brooch glittered between her small breasts; Tho
rolf could only guess that the diamonds around it were genuine.

             
Thorolf ordered a bottle of Vasco's best wine and then dinner. This t
ime, she lagged behind him in drink
ing, while he watched her sharply. When he had drunk enough to feel the effects, he reasoned that, since he outweighed her two to one, she ought by now to be thoroughly besotted. Perhaps, he thought, the wine would subd
u
e whatever entity had taken possession of her being and allow her natural self to break through. But, although she drank almost as much as he, she showed no effect whatever.

             
Through the repast, Thorolf kept up a running chat
ter, trying to elicit human r
eactions from Yvette. He told tales from Rhaetian history and legend; she merely nodded and said: "Yea,
I
understand." He told jokes, to which she smiled politely but without mirth. He made up versicles:

-

"If Rhaetia lacks nobles, we've many skilled wor
kers.

We've craftsmen and merchants and soldiers in plenty,

And clockmakers, herdsmen; of bankers there's twenty.

Amid all this bustle, there's no room for shirkers!

But if you disdain our prosaical nation,

And if you crave troubadours, poets, or knights
,

Or gallants and other romantical wights,

You'd better look elsewhere for gratification!"

-

             
He even told jokes of the randy sort favored in bar
racks; which, being a prim Rhaetian a
t heart, he would not ordinarily have uttered in the hearing of a lady. Still she only smiled politely.

             
This, Thorolf decided, was a waste of time. Instead, he began questioning: "Tell me where you are quar
tered."

             
"In one of the little rooms on the se
cond level, for advanced diaphanes," she said.

             
"Where are those cubicles? I've but once set foot in the castle."

             
"When erst you brought me thither, you ascended a stair and turned right to the Chamber of Audience, didst not?"

             
"Aye."

             
"Well, you must
needs turn left at the top of the stairs instead and pass a row of chambers betwixt the left-side corridor and the outer wall. Mine is the second from the stair end."

             
"Couldst draw me a plan?" asked Thorolf, taking notepad and writing materials from his
scrip.

             
"Nay; but if you will draw, I'll correct your sketch."

             
Soon, with some spillage of ink, Thorolf had a rag
ged plan of the second storey of the keep. He asked: "Hast a room to yourself?"

             
"Aye."

             
"Do you always sleep alone, or does Orlandus
—
a
h
...
"

             
"Nay; the charms of women's bodies beguile him not. Once he caught a guard sneaking into my chamber, hoping for a speedy lectual canter. The master had the fellow dragged away by male diaphanes."

             
"What befell the would-be lecher?"

             
"I know not;
but later that night I heard masculine screams."

             
Thorolf changed the subject. "Now tell me what you do during the day
—
any ordinary day."

             
"We rise early to break our fast. Then the Master hath assigned me to the Record Room, where we keep files on Soph
onomy's foes. 'Tis not so different from what my confidential clerk did when I ruled in Grintz. Each bit of news of the scoundrels is pricked down and placed in a folder. The folders stand in alphabetical order."

             
"Where is this Record Room?" asked Thorol
f. He had visions of abstracting his father's dossier and thus breaking the Sophonomists' hold on the Consul.

             
" 'Tis in the crypt below the castle, directly beneath my sleeping chamber. The area combines two of the cells of the dungeon. The Master had th
e wall betwixt them knocked down and the room aired and scrubbed. 'Twere no bad place to work, save for the plaints and the rattling of chains of the prisoners in the other cells."

             
"Prisoners?" Thorolf came alert. "Whom, pray, does your Master confine ag
ainst their will?"

             
"They are all probationers who have committed grave offenses. Not common, mundane Rhaetian citizens, if that concern you."

             
Thorolf filed the information for possible future use against the cult. When the repast was over, Thorolf led
Yvette unresisting up the stair to the same handsomely furnished room. Inside, she said:

             
"I
do recall this chamber, where you and I once at
tempted a night of pleasure
—
oh, it must be half a month agone. My memory thereof wavers phantasmally; I have a dr
eam of living as some sort of devil-fish. Where sat we when something went amiss?"

             
Thorolf said: "I was on yonder settee, and you were giving me lessons in kissing." His heart thudded.

             
"Excellent! Seat yourself. Sergeant, and we shall re
sume where we
left off."

             
She pushed him back until he sat down. Then pir
ouetting slowly, she shed the shimmering golden gown. The fine linen shift beneath it followed as she pulled it off a finger's length at a time, like a skillful courtesan arousing her client. She
sat down on Thorolf's lap and kissed him until the blood pounded in his ears. The air was redolent of a costly perfume.