The Pixilated Peeress by L. Sprague de Camp, Catherine Crook de Camp Page A

leaving a quietly fuming Bardi fumbling in his purse. The cart stood beneath the tub, to the sides o f which were affixed handles for carrying.
     
                  Bardi appeared, saying: "Is that all, Sergeant? I'm fain to return to my sanctum."
     
                  "Nay. sir!" said Thorolf sternly. "You shall remain with me until we have delivered her."
     
                  He climbed up on the wheel of the cart and dumped his bundle into the tub, saying to the carter in the local dialect: "This is a rare fish, meant as a gift to the King of Carinthia if we can keep it alive. Goodman Wentz, wilt take a look at your mule's off rear foot? Methought it limped a trifle on our way hither."
     
                  Cursing under his breath, the carter climbed down from his perch and examined the hoof. While he did so, Thorolf untied the corners of the sheet and pulled it out from under Yvette. He spread the sheet over the tub.
     
                  "Nought a miss here," the carter grumbled, resum ing his place. "Good; let's go!"
     
    -
     
                  Long before, when Rhaetia had been under the kings of Carint hia, the kings' servants had erected a frowning castelet on a hill in the midst of Zurshnitt, to house the garrison and overawe the citizens. Since independence, Zurshnitt had grown far beyond its former boundaries. Left derelict, Zurshnitt Castle had bee n bought and re furbished by the Order of Sophonomy.
     
                  Thorolf and Bardi walked through the Street of Clockmakers to the base of Castle Hill, followed by the cart. When the slope steepened, the mule balked until Thorolf put his massive shoulder to the tail of the cart and pushed. The street became a winding path to the castle gate.
     
                  The curtain wall with its corner turrets was made of a gray gneiss, in which flakelets of mica sparkled in the sunshine. Reaching the gate of Zurshnitt Castle slightly out of br eath, Thorolf saw a pair of chain-mailed guards in azure livery standing stiffly at attention. As the cart approached, these two crossed halberds with a clang before it. One said brusquely:
     
                  "State your business, sir!"
     
                  Thorolf noticed that the swords wo rn by these two were not belayed to their scabbards by peace wires, as required of the civilians of Zurshnitt. He said: "We have the victim of a spell gone awry, and we are told that Doctor Orlandus can cure such maladies."
     
                  "Who is this victim?" snapped the guard. "Is it ye? "
     
                  " Nay; she's in the tub. It is vital to keep her cov ered."
     
                  The guard glowered. "Think ye we'd let such a mys terious load into our headquarters uninspected? Ye maun be daft! Uncover it, Crasmund!"
     
                  "Ho!" cried Thorolf. "Don't — "
     
                  The other guard had already seized a corner of the sheet. Now he whipped it off and stared into the tub. He reeled back with a shriek: "A demon! A demon!"
     
                  "What?" cried the other guard, pushing forward for a look. "Nay, 'tis a monster!"
     
                  The carter ga ve a squeal like that of a rusty hinge, leaped down from his seat, and ran.
     
                  "A demon, I say!" yelled the first guard.
     
                  "Nay, a monster!" shouted the second.
     
                  "A demon!"
     
                  "A monster!"
     
                  "A demon, as any nullwit can see!"
     
                  "Fools!" roared Thorolf. "It's my patient, for Doc tor Orlandus to treat!"
     
                  "Demon or monster, I'll send it back to its native hell!" screamed the first guard, raising his halberd to thrust at Yvette with the spearhead on the