Part 4 (1/2)

”Only if they're another train of merchants.” Gianni stumbled to his feet, looking down the road to where Gar was pointing, amazed to realize that it was midafternoon. Had the mercenary kept watch all that time, and not slept?

But he saw the cloud of dust already a little way past the horizon, heard the faint drum of hoofbeats, saw the glitter of sunlight off steel, and said, ”That's not a troop of merchants.”

”No,” Gar agreed, ”it's a troop of cavalry. You know this land better than I do, Gianni. Where can we hide?”

Gianni looked about him, feeling the first faint tendrils of panic reaching out about his mind. ”Nowhere! This is table land-there's only the ditch beside the road!”

”And they'll see us if we try to run for the shelter of a granary-if we can find one.”

Gar was tense, alert, his eyes luminous, but seemed quite poised, quite cool- headed. The mere sight of him calmed Gianni a bit. ”There is the ditch,” the mercenary went on, ”but they're sure to glance down and see us crouching in the mud ... Hold! The mud!”

Gianni stared. ”What about it?”

”Off with your doublet-quickly!” Gar yanked open his jerkin and leaped across the ditch, dropping the garment into the tall gra.s.s at the edge of the field of green shoots. ”Off with your s.h.i.+rt, too! Quickly, before they can see us clearly!”

Gianni stared. Had the man gone mad?

Then he remembered that he was supposedly paying Gar to defend them both, and decided not to waste his father's money that he wasn't paying. He leaped across the ditch to join Gar in a race to strip to bare flesh, leaving only his hose, which were badly ripped from the fighting and the fleeing anyway.

Gar knelt to yank up fistfuls of straw and throw them over the heap of clothing.

”Quickly, hide them!”

Gianni bent to help him cover the clothing, and in a minute, only a heap of dried gra.s.s lay there at the edge of the field.

”Now, get down! And dirty!” Gar leaped down into the ditch, scooped up some mud, and began to daub it over his chest and shoulders.

”I already am,” Gianni protested, but he overcame distaste and slid down beside Gar, rubbing himself with dirt. ”What are we doing, making ourselves look like complete vagabonds?”

”Exactly!” Gar told him. ”You can't rob a wandering beggar, can you? Paint my back!” He turned about, daubing mud on his face. Gianni rubbed mud over his back, then turned for Gar to do the same to him. ”More than vagabonds-brain- sick fools! Pretend you are mad, though harmless.”

Gianni felt a surge of hope. It might work. ”And you?”

”I'm a half-wit, a simpleton! You're my brother, guiding me and caring for me in spite of your madness!”

”The mad leading the feebleminded?” That had too much of the ring of truth to it for Gianni's liking but he remembered the lunatic beggar who sat at the foot of the Bridge of Hope at home, and found himself imitating the man's loose-lipped smile. ”What if they ask for our names?”

”Don't give your true one, whatever you do-one of them might think you could fetch a fat ransom, or that I might be of use in the ranks! No, we give false names.

Yours is Giorgio and mine is Lenni!”

Gianni stared. ”How did you think of them so quickly?”

The thunder of approaching hooves prevented Gar's answer. He clapped a hand on Gianni's shoulder. ”They come! Stay down-no one would think it odd for wayfarers to hide from condotierri, even if they were mad! Remember, you have so little mind that no one could care about you!”

”What does a madman say?” Gianni asked, feeling panic reach out for him again.

”Uhhhh ... Giorgio, look! Horsies!” Gar crouched down and pointed up.

Gianni turned to him in exasperation-and saw the troop approach out of the corner of his eye. ”Yes, G-Lenni! But those horsies are carrying nasty men!

Down!” He found himself talking as he would to a baby. How would the beggar of the Bridge of Hope talk? He crouched beside Gar, hoping the hors.e.m.e.n would pa.s.s by without looking at them, hoping they would emerge unscathed ...

Not to be. The captain rode by, talking in restless tones with his lieutenants about the Raginaldi and their displeasure that the Stilettoes had not punished those presumptuous merchants of Pirogia yet-but one of the troopers, bored, looked down, saw them, and his face lit in antic.i.p.ation of fun. ”Captain! See what we've found!”

The troop slowed; a lieutenant barked, ”Halt!” and they stopped.

The captain rode back, looked down, and wrinkled his nose. ”What are these?”

”Horsie.” Gar beamed up at the cavalrymen with a loose-lipped grin.

”A simpleton,” his lieutenant said with disgust, ”and a beggar, from the look of him.”

Gianni plucked up his courage and took his cue. He held up cupped hands, crying, ”Alms, rich captain! Alms for the poor!”

”Alms? I should more likely give you arms,” the captain said in disgust, ”force of arms! Why do you not work, like an honest fellow?”

”Honest,” Gar repeated sagely.

Gianni elbowed him in the ribs, snapping, ”Hush, you great b.o.o.by! I can't say why for the life of me, Captain! They'll give me work, yes, and I'm a hard and willing worker, but they never keep me long.” He remembered what the beggar at the Bridge of Hope would have done, and looked up, startled, above the captain's head.

The captain frowned, glanced up, saw nothing, and scowled down at Gianni.

”Why do they send you away?”

”I can't say, for the life of me,” Gianni said, still gazing above the man's head. ”I do as I'm bid, and scare the thieves away from the master's goods, or the farmer's . . .” He broke off, waving angrily and crying, ”Away! Get away from the captain, you leather-winged nuisance! Leave him be!”

The captain and half the troopers looked up in alarm-”leather-winged” could only refer to two kinds of beings-but there was nothing in sight. The captain turned back to Gianni with the beginnings of suspicion in his eyes. ”What thieves do you speak of?”

”Why, the leathern ones, such as I have just now afrighted, and the slimy crawling ones, and the little big-eyed ... Ho! Away from his boots, small one!”

Gianni lunged at the captain's feet, clapping his hands, then rocked back, nodding with satisfaction. ”Oh, you know when someone's watching, don't you?”

”Brownie?” Gar asked. ”Goblin?”

”Goblin,” Gianni confirmed.

A whisper of superst.i.tious fear went through the ranks: ”He can see the spirits!”

”Spirits that aren't there!” The captain realized these beggars could be bad for morale. ”He's mad!” The men stared, appalled, and the nearest ones backed their mounts away.

Gianni spun, stabbing a finger at the air behind him. ”Sneaking up on me, are you? Get hence, beaky-face! Lenni, knock him away for me!”

Gar obediently swung a backhanded blow at empty s.p.a.ce, but said, ”Can't see him, Giorgio.”

”No need,” Gianni said, with satisfaction. ”You scared him away.”