I’m not sure to this day whether Hrundig would have allowed us to come any nearer, if it hadn’t been for Jenny and Angela. The two girls had held back a bit, almost hiding behind me. (So to speak. There’s not actually that much of me to hide behind. Especially for Jenny, who outtops me by several inches.)
But if there was one characteristic both of those girls had in spades, it was curiosity, and so they couldn’t help sticking their heads over my shoulders to get a peek.
“And who are you two?” asked Hrundig.
Jenny and Angela’s heads ducked down. Then, a moment later, reappeared. Curiosity, like I said.
“I’m Jenny. And she’s Angela.”
Hrundig’s cold blue eyes fixed on Angela.
“So you’re the one,” he stated. “Beautiful girl. I can see why the Baron was so distraught by your departure.”
Angela scowled. “Damn the Baron!” she snapped.
For the first time, Hrundig’s smile had an actual trace of warmth in it. “Oh, my, I’ve no doubt of that, lass. Imagine he’s feeling quite toasty at the moment.”
Then, suddenly—I swear I’m not lying—Hrundig’s eyes actually twinkled. “You cost me one of my best customers, you know.”
Angela pressed her lips together, but she stood her ground. She actually glared at Hrundig.
The Alsask chuckled. “Oh, I’m not peeved about it, girl. There’s plenty more where he came from. Customers I’m not lacking, they stand in line. I don’t like the most of them, but the Baron was a particular disfavorite of mine.”
For a moment, Hrundig held his gaze on her, then transferred it back to Greyboar. Again, that faint look of calculation came to his face.
“I’m trying to remember,” he mused, “if your famous prohibition on burking girls extends to throttling men in front of girls.”
Greyboar shrugged. “Well, no, in point of fact. Although—”
The strangler stopped, exasperated. “There’s no point to this, Hrundig,” he rumbled. “If you don’t want to let us get near you, fine. Just tell Benvenuti we were here and I’ll make arrangements to meet him elsewhere.”
Suddenly, Hrundig scabbarded his sword.
“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” He eyed Jenny and Angela again. “Somehow, I don’t think you’d do a job in front of those girls.”
The blue eyes seemed to bore into Greyboar’s soul. “Your reputation’s rather interesting, actually, to a man like me. Contradictory, you might say. I like that in a man.”
He stood to one side of the door, and politely waved us inside.
Greyboar strode through the door. I followed. With dignity, I dare say, although I thought my hair would stand on end when I passed by Hrundig. I’d seen what was left of Skerritt, as it happens, and I wasn’t a bit happy knowing that sword was behind me, and but two feet away. Scabbarded, sure. So what? How long does it take a tiger to bare its teeth?
* * *
Within, we found ourselves in a very large room. The actual salle, as it were, of the salle d’armes—and now I knew why they called it that. The floor was a beautifully finished parquet, perfect for footwork. And the walls—it was grotesque! The walls were literally covered with every conceivable hand weapon known to man. I didn’t even recognize most of them, and I haven’t exactly led what you’d call a sheltered life.
The girls gaped. The Cat, who until that moment had seemed to be off on another planet, immediately headed over to one wall and stood there, fixedly studying something that looked like a homicidal maniac’s nightmare version of a double-ended straight-bladed scythe.
“What’s this called?” she asked.
“That’s a lajatang,” replied Hrundig. “It’s from one of the southern provinces of the Sundjhab.”
The armsmaster came over and stood by her side, examining the monstrosity with a look of warm regard. “Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s quite a rare weapon, you know. Even in the Sundjhab, not many people are proficient in its use. It’s a difficult weapon to master.”
“How much?” demanded the Cat.
Hrundig’s eyes turned ice cold. “It’s not for sale. None of my weapons are.”
The Cat snorted contemptuously. “Of course not! You damned idiot, how much is it to train me to use it?”
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