Broadax’s hearing was poor, a natural trait of her race, aggravated by too many stints in front of the firing line. Hayl was too young to know danger and Melville was enthralled by the lingering effects of some feminine Sylvan magic, temporarily oblivious to the world around him. Only Fielder realized their danger.
Melville had sat beside Princess Glaive during the dinner and his mind was still adrift in a warm buzz of love and yearning. Under the table they had held hands and he kept his calf and foot woven against her dainty leg throughout much of the dinner. He didn’t remember much about the meal, it was all a dim haze to him, but later they stepped out into the gardens, the princess limping slightly, and they had a few minutes of privacy to whisper to each other.
Was a lady such a lady,
cheeks so round and lips so red,—
On her neck the small face buoyant,
like a bell flower on its bed,
O’er the breast’s superb abundance
where a man might base his head?
* * *
There is a fifth sense of touch, besides pressure, pain, heat, and cold, and that’s the light, warm, stroking, comforting touch of another human being. A baby will die without it. In adults it’s a key ingredient in courtship, flirting and making love. That, along with a lingering sense of smell, is probably responsible for the “afterglow” feeling that lovers have after leaving their love. His palm still felt warm and smelled faintly of her subtle perfume, and his mind wandered. Her touch and smell still echoed through his mind and body.
“Danger, mates,” Fielder hissed as he heard the door being braced shut behind them. He immediately understood that someone wanted to bar their exit from this room. His blue uniform jacket was already unbuttoned and he placed both hands on his hips, under the jacket, ready to draw his .45 auto from the small of his back. Then he leaned gently back against the door. If the door were opened behind them he would know the instant it moved and would be in position to respond.
That night their lives were saved by two things: Fielder’s constant paranoia, and their enemy’s arrogance. All three of their monkeys hunched down and pulled out short, hardwood belaying pins from where they were kept tucked under their bodies. Melville snapped out of his fog, quickly unbuttoning his jacket and placing his right hand casually back on his hip while pulling Hayl behind him with his left hand. Broadax spit out her cigar stub and disappeared into the alcove to their left. Fielder took a shuffle step in that direction, his right shoulder still in contact with the door.
“What’s so dangerous here?” asked young Hayl with a squeak, looking around the moonlit room bewilderedly.
“Us!” snarled Melville.
Then, appearing legs-first down the darkened stairs in front of them, came a group of large, ugly Sylvan males dressed in some household livery of khaki pants and maroon jackets, with semi-automatic pistols held casually in their hands. Melville had heard of interbreeding between Sylvans and Ogres, and this looked like living proof to him. They looked as if they could be written off their owner’s taxes as a business expense, under “misc. heavy equipment.” One of them was far-and-away the biggest, ugliest Sylvan Melville had ever seen. He must have had mostly Ogre blood in him. Good, thought Melville, big guys, hopefully picked for their brawn, not their pistol skill.
They came down and spread to the left and right, four on each side. Then two Sylvan females descended down to the bottom step. The first was tall and slender in an elegant, dark maroon gown, chased in gold and cut low across her ample bosom. Long dark hair framed her face in what Melville thought of as a Cleopatra style. The elegant, long-barrelled pistol in her hand coordinated perfectly with her ensemble. She was ravishingly beautiful, but it was the kind of deliberate, calculated beauty that came from a team of expert hair stylists, make-up artists, and dressmakers. And religious attention to vigorous daily workouts. You knew immediately that she took her beauty, and herself, very seriously.
Beside her was a dour, gray-haired old Sylvan lady dressed in layers of black and dark gray clothing, with slim maroon piping around the hems. Her plain, modest dress fit her matronly appearance perfectly.
When Fielder saw them his eyes grew wide and began to dart around like trapped animals.
“They always remind me of ballerinas,” whispered Melville as he watched them come down the moonlit steps. “So elegant and graceful.”
“Yeah,” muttered Fielder, “the nutcracker suite.”
The two customers in the door to the banquet room turned to watch what was happening, and several of the goons pointed their guns at them and motioned them into the middle of the room. The revelers in the banquet room couldn’t see the stairs and had no indication that there was trouble.
“Baronet Daniello Sans-Fielder. The nobleman without a ‘field.’ ” said the elegant Sylvan lady with a nod and a pleasant smile. “And Captain Thomas Melville,” she continued with a nod in his direction. “You must come with us. You are in great danger.”
“Why?” said Melville, leaving the revelation of Fielder’s full name and title to be considered later.
“Because we will kill you if you don’t,” she said, her smile suddenly turning feral. “Actually, you will die anyway, but this way you will live just a little while longer. In fact,” she continued, licking her lips and picking up momentum, “I intend to kill you myself, and I intend to enjoy it. Perhaps I will toy with the boy a little first, but you are all, already, dead men. You should resign yourselves to that fact.” You could tell that she was getting pleasure from this. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips began to glisten.
Fielder smiled. Threats made him feel at home. Appeals to his better nature, his duty, and his country always made him uncomfortable. But threats now, threats he could handle. She had arrogantly and foolishly stated her intent and blocked off his escape route, leaving no option but to fight and kill them. First he needed to buy time. He could hear that lunatic Broadax up to something in the cloakroom to his left, and time would only work in their favor. If he were in Broadax’s position, odds were good he’d never come back out, but that demented dwarf would never run from a battle.
“Lady Madelia,” Fielder replied with something between a grimace and a smile.
“You know her?” Melville asked.
“Oh, yes sir. Careful! Don’t look her in the eyes. She’ll steal your soul. How very good to see you again, Maddy. But, you know, that gown just isn’t you. Last time I saw you, you were wearing considerably less, and you were blindfolded and tied to the bed with an assortment of vegetables to keep you company. I liked you a lot better that way. Too bad you have adult supervision now,” he added with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Lose them and we could still have a lot of fun, just like last time.”
Her face went slightly red and the elderly Sylvan’s face went beet red. The huge guard to her right began to raise his pistol with a growl, but Fielder was betting that she couldn’t let an insult go unanswered. The Sylvans’ one besetting weakness was their arrogance, and he intended to work it for all he could.
She reached out and put a restraining hand on her goon’s arm and replied in a syrupy voice, “Why Daniel, is that the way to talk to the only woman who ever slept with you sober? Sex is only for revenge or making babies. In your case I was getting exquisite revenge on my father by having an affair with a hairy, under-evolved human. It was delightfully wicked. For me you were a pet, like a dog or a horse, only you could be publicly flaunted. But then,” she went on with a pout, “my point was made and it was time to put the beast down, and you were nowhere to be found. But you couldn’t stay out at sea forever, could you? Now I have you and the dog who is panting after my niece.”
The matron beside her was clearly stunned by these revelations. Her face went from red to bloodless white. You could tell that she was the kind of woman who might be aware that, somewhere beneath the complex strata of her petticoats and undergarments, there was some flesh and other female accouterments, but that didn’t necessarily mean she approved of it. Madelia’s last comment had ensured that, whatever the old lady might have contributed to the coming battle, it wasn’t going to happen now.
“Maddy,” said Fielder, dragging out the “y” with an infuriating grin and a knowing cant to his head. Infuriating grins were his specialty and this was a prize winner. ” ‘Sex is only for babies or revenge?’ You’d only eat your babies, and everyone knows all about your penchant for revenge, so how do you ever have fun? Have you considered the advantages of autocopulation?”