The Pixilated Peeress Read Free

soldier?"
     
                  "Indeed. My father said: 'With those shoulders, and having no talent for commerce or finance, 'tis the army for you, my lad.' "
     
                  Yvette exclaimed: "But every Rhaetian's born with a ledger in his fist; else he's like a fish that cannot swim." After a pause, she added: "Hast fought in a battle?"
     
                  "A sma ll affray with revolutionaries from Tzenric. They promised to abolish taxes and give every Rhaetian a stipend, so that none need ever work again."
     
                  Yvette tightened her grasp on Thorolf's belt and shook her head. "Just the sort of mountebanks your democra tic fools might elect! Didst cross blades with those joltheads? "
     
                  "I made a few hits; but in such a brabble none knows for certain who does what to whom. In truth, I cared but little for the outcome. I'm a peaceable wight who'd liefer spend his days in s cholarship.
     
                  "Now tell me of your plans anent the Duke. That coronet should fetch a few thousand, but such a purse would not long survive an assault upon a dukedom."
     
                  Yvette chewed her lip. "I could doubtless raise a good few thousand more within a year — "
     
                  Thorolf interrupted: "Still insufficient, I fear. Since King Chilperic has hired away our likeliest bullies for his Dorelian war, the pay of mercenaries has risen. My company is down to eighty-odd, since lusty youths earn more as camp cooks and stablem en."
     
                  Yvette sniffed. "Trust Rhaetians to value money above honor!"
     
                  Thorolf chuckled. "As says the buffoon in one of Helmanax's plays: 'Who hath honor? He that was bur ied yesterday.' "
     
                  "Might I not engage your Rhaetian regulars?"
     
                  "Nay; the Consul h as forbidden the hiring thereof for foreign adventures."
     
    -
     
                  For half an hour, only the chirps of birds, the hum of insects, and the horse's hoofbeats broke the silence of the descending road. At last Yvette spoke:
     
                  "Then I must needs seek magical help. I hear that the King of Locania, since he got the religious bee in's bonnet, hath exiled all his magicians. Many have found a haven in Rhaetia."
     
                  "True," admitted Thorolf.
     
                  "How about Doctor Orlandus, the great Psychomagus?"
     
                  "He advances grandiose clai ms, but I trust him no more than I trust the ice on Lake Zurshnitt in spring. Some dub him one part wizard and three parts charlatan."
     
                  "They say he doth command those spirits called del tas."
     
                  Thorolf shrugged. "I know nought of that. I do know howsomev er an able iatromage, Doctor Bardi. He waxes old and infirm but retains enough prowess to banish the colds in my head.
     
                  "And, Countess, if it be not unmeet to ask, should not your husband, the Count of Grintz, and his retainers defend your county?"
     
                  "I a m the late Count's widow. As a woman without issue, I am by law sole ruler until I wed again."
     
                  "What befell the Count? Battle or a tisick?"
     
                  "Neither. Count Volk had seen his eightieth winter when my sire, the Baron Grombac, betrothed me to him, th inking it a brilliant match. On our wedding night, this dotard braced himself and actually sheathed his blade ere his poor old heart gave up."
     
                  "Monstrous awkward for you!" exclaimed Thorolf.
     
                  "Awkward indeed!" Yvette shuddered. "I, a slen der lass of sc arce sixteen, had to roll that great car cass ... Howsomever, that is the reason I am acting