The Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart (31 page)

“Bring food!” Hegel called.

“And drink!” seconded Manfried.

“And fill the bath!” finished Martyn, shrugging at the dual Grossbart glares.

She brought drink first, and when she brought the food she had to go back for more of each. After the second dinner she had
time to catch her breath while they bathed, but had instructions to have a third round of both ready on their return. Braised
eel, poached eggs, and sautéed carp went into their gullets with the same haste as turnip stew, although both agreed, late
in the evening, in private, in their twinspeak, that indeed kings would not eat finer.

At the end of the hall above the kitchen an iron tub larger than many fountains filled the room, a stovepipe from the kitchen
helping to heat it and a shallow drainage aqueduct in the floor vanishing into a small hole. Their first warm bath they concurred
was far better than a river, and decided that upon their establishing themselves in Gyptland such a luxury would be practiced
twice daily. Drowsing in the water, Martyn considered telling the Brothers of what lay ahead, Hegel closed his eyes and imagined
the bath full of cowards’ blood, and Manfried found himself humming a tune that made the water turn frigid.

They bedded down but not before Martyn cracked and told the Brothers of Rodrigo’s intentions. Enigmatically, neither said
much but they exchanged a look that bespoke volumes. At least, Martyn hoped for
enigmatically
rather than
drunkenly
, and prayed the volumes would be worth reading once he learned the language.

The Grossbarts slept without taking watches in their respective rooms, each starting awake several times from the comfort
of his bed. Martyn had stayed in several monasteries that were far more luxurious but he had also spent months sleeping in
ditches and barns, and he slept even better than the Brothers, for he had no doubts that whatever befell them he would probably
go free. Stumbling to answer the rapping at his door that morning, the priest saw not a serving girl but the Brothers outfitted
for battle. Hegel held a cocked crossbow in one arm and his pick in the other, Manfried the same with his mace.

“Rodrigo has sent for us?” Martyn asked.

Hegel grinned. “Nah, we’s gonna find him.”

“Is that wise?”

“Wiser than sittin in the pot til they set us on the fire.” Manfried yawned.

“You wanna hold on to a weapon?” asked Hegel.

“What?! No, of course not.”

“Yeah, can’t you see his hands are bound up?” Manfried chided Hegel.

Rodrigo cleared his throat behind them in the hall. “Sleep well?”

Wondering why he had not felt the goosechills at Rodrigo’s approach, Hegel overcompensated by thrusting his crossbow in the
man’s face. Manfried raised his mace and Martyn jumped back into his room and kicked the door shut. Rodrigo blinked at them
and extended his open palms.

“What’s this, then?” Rodrigo asked.

“Come to torture us, you craven crumb?” Manfried demanded.

“If that’s your purpose you should a brought more muscle,” said Hegel.

“I wondered if the father spoke properly. Now I have my answer.” Rodrigo sighed. “The captain sends for you to dine with him
this morning. If you value your pelts I would advise against such hostility, as beating the truth from you was entirely my
idea, although the future feasibility of such an option is reliant on how you comport yourselves at his board. Now shall we
bring the priest?”

“Nah.” Hegel hung his pick and unstrung his bow. “We gotta have a word on private ground.”

“Which means no flowery twats in high boots,” said Manfried.

“I would like a word in private with you as well, Master Grossbart, but first the captain will have his,” Rodrigo growled,
turning on his heel and leading them to the stairs.

“Wager you would,” Manfried rejoined. “Though you’d be disappointed to find your head fallin to the floor stead a my breeches.”

Rodrigo shuddered at the mental image but held his tongue. These bastards were merely tightening nooses around their necks,
and Rodrigo knew if they rubbed him off-ways the captain might kill them himself before breakfast. They seemed too proud to
deny murdering his brother Ennio, if indeed they had, but already he wanted to see them die simply to watch the sneers fade
from their narrow lips.

They went down the stairs and across the foyer to the hallway opposite the wing leading to the kitchen. Two men in chain mail
haubergeons slouched against the wall, dipping their heads at Rodrigo. The hallway terminated in an ebon door that Rodrigo
gave a series of knocks upon, each Grossbart committing the sequence to memory. Rodrigo then opened the door and motioned
them to enter before him. Hegel went in first while Manfried backed into the room behind him to keep an eye on Rodrigo, who
followed them in and closed the door.

A massive table laden with plates, platters, and pitchers filled the room, and behind this sat the captain. A light red beard
spilled down his shirt and disappeared under the table, instantly warming the Grossbarts to him. His advanced age was shown
by his bald pate and ears that sagged with the weight of heavy gold hoops, his muscular frame drooping from lethargy. Blue
eyes and a large nose and mouth jutted out from his slightly tanned face, his voluminous hands holding the largest crossbow
the Brothers had ever seen. This the captain pointed vaguely between them, and when he spoke he enunciated each syllable so
his meaning was not blurred by his thick accent.

“You are the Grossbarts.” Not a question.

“Yeah.” Hegel lamented unstringing his bow.

“And you’s the Captain Bar Goose,” said Manfried, his palm on his mace pommel.

“Alexius Barousse.” The captain smiled, showing a mouthful of broken teeth.

Rodrigo said something to the captain in Italian that clouded Barousse’s face with anger, his nose swelling and his eyes narrowing.
Moments before the Grossbarts jumped upon the table to battle the man he bellowed, “I will not have guests worry they are
plotted against! In their presence you will speak so they can understand or not at all!”

“Right proper,” Hegel agreed, not trying to mask his pleasure.

“Only honest.” Manfried beamed. “Chance we could speak without the sneak?”

“Captain—” Rodrigo began.

“You are no longer needed,” Barousse snarled, his chest heaving.

“But—”

“I know what you’re about.” Barousse slumped back in his throne-like chair. “So I’ll settle that in your presence. Your names.”

“Huh? Oh, Hegel Grossbart.”

“Manfried Grossbart.”

“Have you come on any other business than returning my property?”

“Nah, but now that we’s here there’s other business could be discussed,” Manfried answered.

“Are you assassins?” The business end of Barousse’s crossbow stayed trained on whoever spoke.

“We’s never killed none but them what done us wrong,” said Hegel.

“Or those what would, given the chance,” clarified Manfried.

“Have you brought poison to my table?”

“Yeah, I got some in my bag,” said Hegel.

“Only cause we didn’t trust our things to be left in our rooms,” Manfried added, giving Rodrigo the stink-eye.

“Do you mean to kill me?” Barousse asked in the same manner in which he would offer them wine.

“Not unless you give us cause,” said Hegel, and Manfried nodded.

“And you’re in nobody’s employ but your own?”

“And Mary’s,” said Hegel.

“Meanin the Virgin,” explained Manfried.

“Satisfied?” Barousse looked to Rodrigo.

“How can you trust them?” Rodrigo spluttered.

“How can they trust a man who speaks about them in code in their very presence? They can’t, and I can’t trust a man who distrusts
me or my company. So out.” Barousse set the crossbow down on the table and poured himself a drink, dismissing the dumbstruck
Rodrigo with a wave of his fingers. Rodrigo bowed and left without looking at the Grossbarts, slamming the door behind him.

“Lock the door,” Barousse commanded, which Hegel did while Manfried approached the table. “Sit and eat. He’s lost a brother
and you’re the ones who were there, so that sits sorely with him.”

“Never would a pegged Ennis for the smart one.” Manfried fell upon a roast gull.

“Rodrigo’s proved himself superior to Ennio in all matters save cart driving, which is why he went and Rodrigo stayed.” Barousse
drank between words.

“Ennio weren’t so bad in the end,” said Hegel.

“But it’s the beginning that concerns me,” Barousse said. “My enemies are legion, hence Rodrigo’s protective nature. The green-eared
lad fails to recognize that a man who can’t defend his own table isn’t fit to sit at it. Besides, you have brought back to
me what Ennio failed…” Barousse lowered his voice and stared at his plate.

After several mouthfuls of silence, Hegel guzzled some wine and cleared his throat. “We was in the mountains, headin south
when we seen your ride comin towards us,” he began, and whenever he needed another bite or drink Manfried would take up the
reins and continue the tale. They omitted nothing but Manfried’s fascination with the woman, even including their debate with
Ennio on the ethics of their business in the churchyard. The food grew cold but still they ate and talked, and before they
were finished the captain had to retrieve another bottle from the mantel to fill their glasses.

Barousse’s hearty laughter when they told of slaying the Road Popes and burning the town endeared him to the Grossbarts, here
at long last an honest man. “Many might doubt your tale,” he finally said.

“Many oughta get hit,” Hegel observed.

“And you say the priest pursued the same demon?”

“Claimed to,” said Manfried, “accordin to him the man what had it in’em was a devil worshipper, meanin we kilt us a demon
and
a witch.”

“And so you did kill Ennio,” Barousse mused.

“Well, yeah,” said Manfried.

“Better than gettin a demon in’em,” said Hegel.

“Hmm,” said the captain, then shook his head. “Demons prowl the wilds. I know this, and I believe you. I will tell Rodrigo
what you have told me, and his mood shall change or I will change it for him. Now what kind of reward do you seek for your
impressive service?”

“Gyptland,” they said together.

“What?!”

“Passage, rather,” amended Manfried.

“Once we’s landed we can get it ourselves,” said Hegel.

“Passage?”

“You’s a captain, so that means you got a ship,” Manfried said.

“And you want me to take you to the desert?” The captain’s face wrinkled.

“Yeah,” belched Hegel.

“Ridiculous,” said Barousse.

“How’s that?” Manfried dropped a duck leg on the floor and stared at the captain.

“I don’t sail.” The captain stared past them at the door, his fists tightening on the table until they went milky, then managed
through clenched teeth: “You may stay in my home until you secure your own passage, that is your reward. We will discuss specifics
later.”

“What kind a captain don’t sail?” Manfried sneered, unprepared for the short shrift this man suggested.

“Leave me. Now.” His florid face swelled, and that too began turning white, starting at the tip of his nose and spreading
inward.

“We can talk more later,” Hegel offered, standing and backing toward the door. The captain had made him go all cold and sober—without
letting on in his face, Hegel realized that at some point the captain had picked the loaded crossbow back up.

“Yeah, let the prospect simmer twixt your ears fore givin a final response,” Manfried agreed, knocking his chair back and
following his brother.

The captain stared wrathfully at them until Hegel unlocked the door and stepped out, Manfried backing out behind him. Pulling
the door closed, they exchanged nasty looks and strode back to their rooms. Rodrigo approached them on the way to the stair
but thought better of it and diverted his path down the captain’s hall. Neither brother spoke until they bolted the door in
Hegel’s room.

“You like that much’s me?” Manfried asked.

“Mecky as it gets,” said Hegel.

“Think he can dismiss us like that?”

“Man’ll think a lot a things less someone shows’em his error.”

“Only sometimes. Oft Mary’s guidance’s the only thing set one straight.”

“Seemed a decent sort til the end there,” Hegel ruminated.

“If he holds decent he’ll see his crime and make amends,” said Manfried, removing his boots.

“And that Arab? We really mean to waste even a bottle on that wretch?”

“First I was thinkin no, just get on Rodrigo’s ass a touch, but recent epiphanies got me shifted a different direction.”

“How’s that?”

“Know how Ponce’s cousin and others we seen don’t speak proper? And how we can speak like we’s always done in the
real
proper way and even that sow what birthed us couldn’t comprehend a word?”

“Yeah, so different folk speak different. That’s what goes under the term
proper
fuckin knowledge. You just figure that out?” Hegel grinned and dodged a thrown boot. Over the run of their brotherhood they
had both developed an almost supernatural knack for dodging expected and surprise attacks alike.