Robert Asprin - Tales From The Vulgar Unicorn

Tempus favoured them with a sullen glare, then brazenly returned his attention to his work. It was an unmistakable affront as he was only occupied with filing a series of saw-like teeth into one edge of his sword: a project that should run a poor second to speaking with the Hell Hound's captain.

'I would have a word with you, Tempus,' Zalbar announced, swallowing his anger.

'It's your prerogative,' the other replied without looking up.

Razkuli shifted his feet, but a look from his friend stilled him.

'I have had a complaint entered against you,' Zalbar continued. 'A complaint which has been confirmed by numerous witnesses. I felt it only fair to hear your side of the story before I went to Kadakithis with it.'

At the mention of the prince's name, Tempus raised his head and ceased his filing. 'And the nature of the complaint?' he asked darkly.

'It is said you're committing wanton murder during your off-duty hours.'

'Oh, that. It's not wanton. I only hunt hawk-masks.'

Zalbar had been prepared for many possible .responses to his accusations: angry denial, a mad dash for freedom, a demand for proof or witnesses. This easy admission, however, caught him totally off-balance. 'You ... you admit your guilt?' he managed at last, surprise robbing him of his composure.

'Certainly. I'm only surprised anyone has bothered to complain. No one should miss the killers I've taken ... least of all you.'

'Well, it's true I hold no love for Jubal or his sell-swords,' Zalbar admitted, 'but, there are still due processes of law to be followed. If you want to see them brought to justice you should have...'

'Justice?' Tempus laughed. 'Justice has nothing to do with it.'

'Then why hunt them?'

'For practice,' Tempus informed them, studying his serrated sword once more. 'An unexercised sword grows slow. I like to keep a hand in whenever possible and supposedly the sell-swords Jubal hires are the best in town - though, to tell the truth, if the ones I've faced are any example, he's being cheated.'

'That's all?' Razkuli burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. 'That's all the reason you need to disgrace your uniform?'

Zalbar held up a warning hand, but Tempus only laughed at the two of them.

'That's right, Zalbar, better keep a leash on your dog there. If you can't stop his yapping, I'll do it for you.'

For a moment Zalbar thought he might have to restrain His friend, but Razkuli had passed explosive rage. The swarthy Hell Hound glared at Tempus with a deep, glowering hatred which Zalbar knew could not be dimmed now with reason or threats. Grappling with his own anger, Zalbar turned, at last, to Tempus.

'Will you be as arrogant when the prince asks you to explain your actions?' he demanded.

'I won't have to.' Tempus grinned again. 'Kitty-Cat will never call me to task for anything. You got your way on the Street of Red Lanterns, but that was before the prince fully comprehended my position here. He'd even reverse that decision if he hadn't taken a public stance on it.'

Zalbar was frozen by anger and frustration as he realized the truth of Tempus's words. 'And just what is your position here?'

'If you have to ask,' Tempus laughed, 'I can't explain. But you must realize that you can't count on the prince to support your charges. Save yourselves a lot of grief by accepting me as someone outside the law's jurisdiction.' He rose, sheathed his sword and started to leave, but Zalbar blocked his path.

'You may be right. You may indeed be above the law, but if there is a god - any god - watching over us now, the time is not far off when your sword will miss and we'll be rid of you. Justice is a natural process. It can't be swayed for long by a prince's whims.'

'Don't call upon the gods unless you're ready to accept their interference.' Tempus grimaced. 'You'd do well to heed that warning from one who knows.'

Before Zalbar could react, Razkuli was lunging forwards, his slim wrist-dagger darting for Tempus's throat. It was too late for the Hell Hound captain to intervene either physically or verbally, but then, Tempus did not seem to require outside help.

Moving with lazy ease, Tempus slapped his left hand over the speeding point, his palm taking the full impact of Razkuli's vengeance. The blade emerged from the back of his hand and blood spurted freely for a moment, but Tempus seemed not to notice. A quick wrench with the already wounded hand and the knife was twisted from Razkuli's grip. Then Tempus's right hand closed like a vice on the throat of his dumbfounded attacker, lifting him, turning him, slamming him against a wall and pinning him there with his toes barely touching the floor.

.'Tempus!' Zalbar barked, his friend's danger breaking through the momentary paralysis brought on by the sudden explosion of action.

'Don't worry. Captain,' Ternpus responded in a calm voice. 'If you would be so kind?'

He extended his bloody hand towards Zalbar and the tall Hell Hound gingerly withdrew the dagger from the awful wound. As the knife came clear the clotting ooze of blood erupted into a steady stream. Tempus studied the scarlet cascade with distaste, then thrust his hand against Razkuli's face.

'Lick it, dog,' he ordered. 'Lick it clean, and be thankful I don't make you lick the floor as well!'

Helpless and fighting for each breath, the pinned man hesitated only a moment before extending his tongue in a feeble effort to comply with the demand. Quickly impatient, Tempus wiped his hand in a bloody smear across Razkuli's face and mouth, then he examined his wound again.

As Zalbar watched, horrified, the seepage from the wound slowed from flow to trickle and finally to a slow ooze - all in the matter of seconds.

Apparently satisfied with the healing process, Tempus turned dark eyes to his captain. 'Every dog gets one bite - but the next time your pet crosses me, I'll take him down and neither you nor the prince will be able to stop me.'

With that he wrenched Razkuli from the wall and dashed him to the floor at Zalbar's feet. With both Hell Hounds held motionless by his brutality, he strode from the room without a backward glance.

The suddenness and intensity of the exchange had shocked even Zalbar's battlefield reflexes into immobility, but with Tempus's departure, control flooded back into his limbs as if he had been released from a spell. Kneeling beside his friend, he hoisted Razkuli into a sitting position to aid his laboured breathing.

'Don't try to talk,' he ordered, reaching to wipe the blood smear from Razkuli's face, but the gasping man jerked his head back and forth, refusing both the order and the help.

Gathering his legs under him, the short Hell Hound surged to his feet and retained the upright position, though he had to cling to the wall for support. For several moments, his head sagged weakly as he drew breath in long ragged gasps, then he lifted his gaze to meet Zalbar's.

'I must kill him. I cannot ... live in the same world and ... breathe the same air with one who ... shamed me so ... and still call myself a man.'

For a moment, Razkuli swayed as if speaking had drained him of all energy, then he carefully lowered himself onto a bench, propping his back against the wall.

'I must kill him,' he repeated, his voice steadying. 'Even if it means fighting you.'

'You won't have to fight me, my friend.' Zalbar sat beside him. 'Instead accept me as a partner. Tempus must be stopped, and I fear it will take both of us to do it. Even then we may not be enough.'

The swarthy Hell Hound nodded in slow agreement. 'Perhaps if we acquired one of those hellish weapons that have been causing so much trouble in the Maze?' he suggested.

'I'd rather bed a viper. From the reports I've heard they cause more havoc for the wielder than for the victim. No, the plan I have in mind is of an entirely different nature.'