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

there was talk — " began Thorolf.
     
                  "Well, he did. Without your mother, I saw no use in keeping up that old pile, especially since I won the consular election. And speaking of your mother, I never tru ly appreciated the lass whilst she lived." Zigram hastily wiped a damp eyelid with his sleeve.
     
                  Thorolf proposed: "Shall I take a room at Vasco's again? I must return thither to give Vasco a sheet I borrowed."
     
                  The Consul hes itated, then said: "Nay, nay; they'd follow me." Still whispering, Zigram added: "My dear son, have nought to do with these folk, any more than youd pick up a viper with a bare hand! Flee all contact! A clean pair of heels is your only salvation."
     
                  "But I cannot abandon the Countess in their cus tody — "
     
                  "A pox upon your Countess! Some decadent aristo crat from the benighted feudal regime of Carinthia — "
     
                  Thorolf interrupted: "With all due respect, you know not whereof you speak. You've never seen her. If there be aught Yvette is not, it's decadent."
     
                  The consul's white-browed eyes narrowed. "So ve hement, stripling? Art in love with the dame?"
     
                  "Of course not! After but one day and night — "
     
                  "Night, eh? I know these high-born jades. Didst have a good tim e?"
     
                  "Father, you are impossible! I have not bedded her — "
     
                  "Well, then, do ye court her honorably? Titled wenches make chancy wives, being full of hoity-toity snobbery. They fancy themselves beings of a superior species by virtue of blue blood, when 'tis well known that most noble houses were founded by successful ban ditti who frightened some weakling ruler into granting titles."
     
                  "She has some of that," Thorolf conceded. "She thinks in the imperative mood. A pity; she's a fascinat ing creature. But I w ill do what my conscience com mands."
     
                  "From what my spies tell me," said the Consul, "she is a combination of the goddess Rianna and a man-eating tigress."
     
                  "Not so formidable as all that, Father! She's a small person, but with more energy per pound tha n I've ever seen."
     
                  Zigram mused: "I'm concerned for my line, with mine only son still unwed at nearly thirty. Since high rank in the state be close d to you by our nepotism law, at least whilst I remain in office, ye were better-advised to court the daughter of some banker or rich mer chant."
     
                  "And you," said Thorolf, "were better-advised to eat less and exercise more, if you'd fain live through that second term of office you seek." He rose. "Come over to the barracks, and I'll work fifty pounds of that fat off."
     
                  "Speak not rudely to thy sire, boy!"
     
                  "Nor you to me. But come, walk with me to the barracks. It will do you good, and we shall be where none can overhear."
     
                  "Oh, very well." With a groan, Zigram heaved him self out of his chair and shrugged a black cloak over his crimson doublet.
     
                  In the street, Thorolf gave his father a sharp look. "Tell me, Father, what hold have the Sophonomists on yo u? For some I'm sure they have, to make a brave man quail at their mere mention."
     
                  "Nay, son; meddle not. 'Twill do you no good."
     
                  "Father, I insist! Have they discovered something to your discredit in your past?"
     
                  "Nay, nay; 'tis — a small matter of no i mport."
     
                  "If it were so little, you'd not flinch at its mere men tion. Out with it! If it affects mine own