Part 11 (1/2)

”We saw them from a curve of the road above,” Vladimir confessed, ”and thought it wiser to risk a slide down the slope than an encounter with mercenaries.”

”Nearly broke my ankle,” Estragon grumbled, rubbing that joint. ”It seems I chose wrongly, as usual.”

”Did they say what they were searching for?” Gar asked.

”Nary a word,” Feste said, ”and we didn't stay to ask.”

”No, I'm sure you didn't,” Gianni said.

”They were even too worried to beat you for their amus.e.m.e.nt?” the thief asked, wide-eyed.

”Even that,” Vincenzio a.s.sured him. ”Did I not tell you we blessed all the saints?”

”Let us say a blessing again.” Gar took the spit off the fire. ”We're about to dine.

Does anyone have a knife?”

No one did, so they had to wait for the meat to cool before Gar could break it to portion it out. The next day, they kept a wary eye on the road ahead, and at the slightest sign of soldiers, they took to the underbrush. In that fas.h.i.+on, they crept warily by two separate roadblocks, closely enough to hear the soldiers muttering and griping about such senseless duty-but there was an undertone of nervousness to their grumbles, almost of apprehension. After the second, they came back onto the road and fell in with a trio of peasants in tunics as filthy as anything the other recent prisoners wore. They looked up, startled, at Gianni's hail, saw Gar's size, and leaped asidethen stared.

”Peace, peace!” Gianni cried. ”We are only poor travelers, like yourselves.”

”Very like yourselves,” said the oldest peasant. ”Vincenzio! Feste! Why have you moved so slowly? I can understand why Vladimir and Estragon would, since the one is lame and the other so deeply weakened-but why you?”

”We move more slowly, Giuseppi, because we are wary of the Stilettos,” Vincenzio answered. ”Wisely said,” Giuseppi said ruefully. ”With each set of them, we thought surely this must be the last. Three of them have searched us now, searched so thoroughly that we had thought they were going to turn us inside out.

Praise Heaven they let us go our way without beating us!”

”They seemed to be worried,” Vincenzio agreed. ”By your leave, Giuseppi, I'll continue to go slowly, and step off the road if I see any sign of them.”

”I think we'll join you,” Giuseppi said. ”Who are these?”

”Giorgio and Gar,” Vincenzio said, by way of introduction. Both raised palms in greeting.

”We won't starve, so long as they're with us,” Estragon explained, ”and there's a hare to be found in the woods about.”

”A hare would be most welcome indeed!” Giuseppi said fervently, and Gar was off on another hunting expedition. This time he brought back partridges and plover eggs, and by the time they were done eating, they were all on friendly terms.

In midafternoon, they saw a lone man striding wearily ahead. Gar called to him, his tone friendly, but the man looked up, stared, then dashed madly into the wood. Gar frowned and waved their little troop to a halt. ”Come out, friend!” he called. ”We mean you no harm, no matter how rough we look! But there are condotierri on the road, and we will fare more safely together than alone!”

”How truly you speak!” came the quavering voice; then the traveler appeared again, holding a staff at the ready. ”What a.s.surance do I have that you are not yourselves bandits?”

He had good reason to fear them, Gianni saw, for by his clothing, the man was a merchant, and a prosperous one at that.

”Only the a.s.surance that we too fear the Stilettos, for most of us have been searched by them, and all of us have suffered at their hands,” Gar answered. He held up an open palm. ”I am Gar.”

”I am Rubio-and Heaven has preserved me from a beating, at least.” The man kept his staff up. ”But as to searching, they have surely done that, aye, and kept what they found, too!”

”Found?” Gar was tense as a hunting dog. ”What did they steal?”

”My jewels! All my jewels!” The man held out his robe, that they might see where the hems had been slashed. ”All the wealth that I was taking from Venoga to Pirogia, that I might begin business anew away from the coune and his kin! But they couldn't suffer to let me go, no, but robbed me blind on the highroad!”

”Poor fellow!” Gianni felt instant commiseration. ”Why didn't you take at least one guard?”

”Where could I find one who could be trusted?”

”Here.” Gianni gestured toward Gar. ”Of course, you hadn't had the good fortune to meet him.”

The merchant looked up with a frown. ”Is this true? Are you a guard who can be trusted?”

”I am.” Gar pressed a hand to his head. ”At least ... so long as my wits stay with me . . .”

The other travelers drew back in alarm, but the merchant said, ”What ails you?”

”Too many blows to the head,” Gar explained. ”They come and go ... my wits . . .”

Gianni looked up at him anxiously, and the other men drew back farther-but Gar opened his eyes again and blinked about at them, then forced a smile. Gianni heaved a sigh of relief, then turned to the merchant. ”So the Stilettos are only about their old game of thieving-but why are they in so much of a hurry?”

Whistling sounded ahead.

They all looked up in surprise, to hear someone sounding so cheerful in a country beset by bandits. ”I confess,” said Gar, ”to a certain curiosity.”

”I do, too.” Gianni quickened the pace. ”Who can this be, who is so carefree when the times move on to war or worse?” He and Gar paced ahead of the group, around a turn in the road, and saw a tradesman, in smock and cross-gartered leggings, strolling down the road with his head thrown back and his thumbs thrust under the straps of his pack, whistling. From the tools that stuck out of that knapsack, it was clear that he was a craftsman of some sort.

”Good day to you, journeyman!” Gianni called as they came near.

The tradesman looked up, surprised, then grinned and raised an open hand.

”Good day to you, traveler-and to . . .” His eyes widened at the sight of Gar. ”My heavens! There is a lot of you, isn't there?”

”Not so much as there has been,” Gar said, smiling. ”I haven't been eating well.”

”Who has?” the tradesman rejoined. ”If I have bread and cheese, I count myself fortunate. I am Bernardino, a poor wandering carpenter and glazier.”

”A glazier!” Gianni was impressed. ”That's a rare trade indeed. I am Gia-Giorgio, and this is Gar. We are travelers who have fallen afoul of the Stilettos. We had to steal new clothes.”

”Took the s.h.i.+rts off your backs, did they?” Bernardino chuckled. ”Well, at least they left you your boots! Me, I had the forethought to be paid in food, and they didn't think it worth stealing when they searched me.”

”There's some wonder in that alone,” Gar said, ”though it speaks well for your prudence. Tell me, how do you find work as a glazier?”

”Rarely, which is why I'm also a carpenter-but when I do, it pays well.”

”A whole cheese, no doubt,” Gar said, grinning. ”Aye, and several loaves.”

Bernardino beckoned him closer and whispered, ”And several silver pennies, hidden where even the Stilettos shall not find them.”

”Tradesmen were ever ingenious,” Gianni sighed, and forbore to ask in what part of the cheese Bernardino had hidden his wealth. ”You have just had work as a glazier, then?”