Лайон Спрэг Де Камп Array - The Incomplete Enchanter

«I overthrew more knights than you today,» cried sir Ferramont. «If it comes to a question of the second best —»

Britomart cut in icily: «Good knights and gentles, I have changed my mind and will accept the charge of this lady.»

«By my halidome, no!» bellowed Blandamour. «You refused her once, and she’s mine!»

«Hey,» Shea put in. «Didn’t I knock you for a loop this morning? Then doesn’t that —»

Blandamour spat. «That for you, springald! Pox on these legal points! I’m on my way!» He strode across the room, grabbed Florimel’s wrist, and dragged her after him, snarling something inaudible through his moustache. Florimel whimpered with pain.

Shea bounded after them, spun Blandamour round and slapped his face. He jumped back and got the épée out just in time.

«Stop, fair sirs!» wailed Satyrane. The clash of steel answered him. His guests scattered, pushing furniture back. To them, stopping a good fight would be wicked waste of entertainment.

Shea remembered that in dealing with these broadsword men, you had to rely on footwork. If they got close enough for a good swing, you might get your blade snapped on a parry. He felt rather than saw the approach of a corner, and drove in a stop-thrust to keep from being backed into it. He heard a voice: «Nay, bid them cease. Blandamour uses but one arm.»

«So does the other,» came the answer, «and he has the lighter blade. Let them go.»

Back and forth they went, Swish, clang, tzing! Shea caught a ferocious backhand cut with a parry sixte, but his light blade was borne back by the force of the blow. The edge chopped through the sleeve of his jacket and barely nicked the skin. Blandamour laughed. Shea, thinking fast, grunted as if with pain, jumped back and dropped his épée. But he caught it with his left hand, and as Blandamour came hurling in, nailed him just above the knee. The knight’s blade whistled round and clipped the tip off Shea’s hat feather before Blandamour crashed to the floor on the stabbed leg.

«Enough!» shouted Satyrane, jumping between them. «Let there be an end of manslaying! Now I rule that Sir Blandarnour has his just deserts for unknightly behaviour, both here and at the tourney. Let any who challenge this prove it on me! Squire Harold, ye have won Florimel for your lawful paramour — Why, pest take it, where is she?»

Florimel, the fair bone of this knightly contention, had disappeared.

Shea said: «I get sick of the flatness of this country. And doesn’t it ever rain?» He sat on the white gelding he had purchased at Castle Caultrock, the armour that had been Sir Paridell’s bundled up behind him. He had tried wearing it, but the heat made it unbearable.

Chalmers was just taking his bearings with a crude jack-stave he and Shea had managed to patch together. He remarked: «Harold, you’re an incorrigible varietist. If we had cliffs and a downpour you’d doubtless complain about that.»

Shea grinned. «Touché, Doc. Only I get bored. I’d even welcome a lion for the sake of excitement.»

Chalmers climbed back onto the ass. «Giddap, Gustavus,» he said, and then: «I daresay you’ll have plenty of excitement if this wood harbours as many enchanters as they say. I rather wish you wouldn’t challenge all the. uh. hard characters we encounter on the strength of your ability to fence.»

«Well, what the hell, I’ve gotten away with it so far.»

«Undoubtedly. At the same time it is just as well not to carry matters too far. I should hate to he left alone.»

«A nasty, selfish point of view. Say, Doc, it’s too bad the girls wouldn’t come with us. That ebony spear of Britomart’s gave me a feeling of solid comfort.»

«You’re not acquiring a. uh. sentimental fondness for that brawny lady?»

«Good Lord, no! She reminds me of Gert. I was just giving her practice in the theory and practice of feminine charm, for snaring her own boy friend. But, say if anybody’s loopy over a girl it’s you! I saw the look on your face when Satyrane suggested Florimel had been carried off by enchantment.»

«Why. ahem. nothing of the sort. that is, very well.» Chalmers looked worried. «The trouble with travelling with a fellow psychologist is that concealments are impossible. However, I will say that Florimel’s manner gave me to pause. When the girdle refused to stay on anyone, I became certain of the opration of magic. The laws of probability should have produced at least one faithful lady among so many.» Chalmers gave a sigh. «I suppose Florimel was just an illusion. It was fortunate in a way. It gave us a good excuse to ask how to find an enchanter. Otherwise they might have suspected us of trying. uh. to make common cause with their enemies. The Faerie knights seem convinced that all enchanters are working against them. Perhaps they are right.»

They rode in silence for a while. Then Shea said: «Looks like the woods begin about here.» A little stream crossed the track in front of them, and beyond it the sparse timber gave place to dense forest. They dismounted, tying up Gustavus and the horse, which had been christened Adolphus, and produced their lunch.

Both munched in silence for a moment. Then Chalmers said: «Harold, I wish you’d promise not to get into any more fights if —»

«Hey!» said Shea, and leaped to his feet.

Out from among the trees loped a pair of naked, hairy seven-foot ape men. They had huge ears with tufts of hair sprouting from them, and throat pouches like orangutans. In their hands were clubs. For a moment they stood at gaze, then came splashing through the stream at a gallop.

Chalmers ran to untie the animals, but they were leaping about, crazy with fear. In a glance Shea decided he could never reach Sir Paridell’s sword. He would have to use the épée, feeble as that toothpick was against those huge clubs.

The first of the ape men ran at him, bellowing. Shea never knew whether he had gained his senses or lost his nerve, but he next instant he and Chalmers were running round and round the tethered animals, with the ape-men foaming through their tusks behind.

One of the creatures boomed something to the other. On the next circuit the fugitives were surprised to run head-on into one ape-man who had stopped and waited for them. Shea was in front. He saw the club swing up in two hairy hands and did the only thing possible — extend the épée and fling himself foward in a terrific flиche.

His face was buried in fur and he was clutching at it for support. The hilt was wrenched from his hand, and the animal-man went screaming off, with the weapon sticking through him.

Shea himself was running; over his shoulder, he saw Chalmers was running, with the other ape-man gaining, twirling up his club for the blow. Shea had an instant of horror and revulsion — the poor old Doc, to pass out this way, when he couldn’t help —

Twunk!

The feathered butt of an arrow appeared in the thing’s side, as though it had just sprouted there. The club missed Chalmers as the creature staggered and turned. Twunk! The second arrow took it in the throat, and it collapsed in a clump of bracken, screeching and thrashing. Shea tried to stop; Chalmers careened into him and they went down together.

Shea sat up and wiped leaf mould from his face. Footsteps preceded a tallish, slim girl in a short-skirted tunic and soft leather boots. She had a bow in one hand and a light boar spear in the other, and she moved towards them at a springy trot as though it were her normal gait. A feathered hat like Shea’s sat on her red-gold hair, which was trimmed in a long bob.

Shea got up. «Thanks, young lady. We owe you a life or two. I think the thing’s about dead.»

«I’ll make certain. Those Losels are hard to kill,» said the girl. She stepped to the bracken and jabbed. She seemed satisfied as she pulled the spear out, wiping its point on some moss. «Is the old man hurt?»