The servant and cook were playing their part to perfection, according to the peasant who brought the news. Repercussions were not to be feared. Clearly enough, no one in the Baronies not privy to the truth would have any doubt that the spirit of the Sieur de Pouilleux had committed the massacre. Superstition was as common to the area as potatoes.
None of this, of course, allayed the peasantry’s hostile attitude toward me. As Gwendolyn and I made to leave the area, the parting words of the common folk were spoken more or less in a chorus.
“Dump the imperialist, Gwendolyn! Beware the Ozarine snake!” And so on, and so forth. Quite tedious, it was.
* * *
Once we were finally out of sight, I gave vent to my spleen. At some length, as I recall.
When I was done, Gwendolyn smiled. Then, stopped me in my tracks with a hand on my shoulders. “Don’t pout. For whatever it’s worth, I don’t think you’re an imperialist snake. A dinosaur, maybe, but not a snake.”
“Well, that’s something,” I muttered. “Progress of sorts, I guess.”
I started to say something else but was cut off by a fierce kiss. A quick one, true, but fierce. The sensation which went down my spine was equally fierce.
“Be quiet,” she whispered. “Let’s just get to the Mutt. Then . . . we’ll see what happens.”
As usual, the damn woman was decisive and quick-moving. I hadn’t time to recover from that incredible kiss before she was striding off. “Now, move! No time for your sluggard Ozarine ways, Benvenuti the Gallant! You’ve just made the Baronies even more dangerous than usual.”
* * *
That night, as we lay together in another thicket, Gwendolyn’s hands upon me were softer than they had been before. Almost caressing, now; and my own, the same. The touches were not those of lovemaking. The tight quarters would have made that quite impossible, leaving aside anything else. But if she—and I, for that matter—still thought our feelings for each other were well-nigh insane, neither of us would any longer pretend they didn’t exist.
* * *
When we emerged from the thicket at sundown the next day, Gwendolyn studied me for a moment. The furs and assorted leather rags I was now clad in seemed to meet her approval. But when her eyes fell upon my feet, she chuckled and shook her head.
“When we reach the Mutt, we really have to get you a decent pair of boots. Those—things—you’re wearing are almost worn out, and besides, I’d be too embarrassed to be seen with you. Me, Gwendolyn Greyboar, cozy with an Ozarine down to his pointed patent leather shoes! No, it just won’t do.”
PART IX
In Which, Sad
to Relate, Our Narration
of the Further Adventures of
the Wizard and His Loyal But Stupid
Apprentice is Cast Into Disarray
By a Truly Unfortunate
Chronicler’s Mishap.
CHAPTER X.
The Dwarf’s Question. The Wizard’s Reproof. The Dwarf’s Question. The Wizard’s Reproof. The Dwarf’s Question. The Wizard’s Bemusement. The Dwarf Is Dispatched On a Perilous Journey—Into the Very Darkest Interior of the Sack! Adventures Too Overwhelming to Relate In Detail! Alas! Suffice It To Say—
“Why did he say that, master?” queried Shelyid, as the coach lurched into motion. His question was in regard to the driver’s announcement that passengers should bring their own provisions for the first two days of the journey, as no roadway inn could be constructed in the Drear.
“Bah!” oathed Zulkeh. “More to the point, gnome, is the question: Why did he say that three seconds before departure, thus ensuring that no time would be available for the acquisition of said necessities? An outrage!” He fell into a brooding silence, which lasted the length of the coach’s voyage through the gates of the Caravanserai and out into the Drear beyond.
Then did the dwarf speak again.
“But why did he say that, master?”
“What?” demanded Zulkeh, frowning fiercely at the runt. “Why did he say that? Because he is a churl, dolt, employed by a churlish firm!”
“But why, master?” persisted Shelyid.
“Why? Why? Why?” cried Zulkeh, his wrath now steeping to the surface. “Wherefore am I plagued by these imbecile inquiries? I have already explained why, diminutive cretin!”