the tears trickled down the iron interior of that hollow hulk which was to be, for the remainder of my days, my prison—and they trickled out through the knee chinks, threatening to stiffen the joints with rust. But I no longer cared.
Then suddenly I noticed a platoon of halberdiers slowly wending its way towards a meadow at the edge of the city, outlined against the last glimmer of the setting sun. Their behavior was peculiar. In the growing darkness of evening first one, then another separated himself from the ranks and, moving his feet as quietly as possible, crept into the bushes and disappeared. This struck me so odd that, in spite of my extreme depression, I got up quietly and set off after the one nearest me.
This was—I must add—at a time when the local shrubbery was bearing wild berries, similar in taste to whortleberries, sweet and full of flavor. I’d eaten them myself—whenever, that is, I was able to slip away from the iron metropolis. Picture my astonishment upon seeing the halberdier I’d been following pull out a tiny key, the exact duplicate of the one given me by the director of Division Headquarters, and use it to unfasten his visor from the left side, then, grabbing berries with both hands, stuff them into that open pit like a savage! Even from where I stood I could hear the sounds of slurping and gulping.
“Psst,” I hissed urgently. “Hey!”
With a single bound he went crashing into the underbrush, but didn’t get far—or else I would have heard him. He had fallen down somewhere.
“Listen,” I said in a lower voice, “don’t be afraid. I’m a man. A man. Disguised like yourself.”
Something like a single eye, glittering with fear and suspicion, peered out at me from behind a leaf,
“And howe woot I ye wil nat me biwreyen?” came a hoarse voice.
“But I’m trying to tell you. I came from Earth. They sent me specially.”
I had to persuade him a while more before he was reassured enough to crawl out of the bushes. He touched my armor in the darkness.
“Ye are a man? For sooth?”
“Why won’t you talk normally?” I asked.
“Tush, I hav foryeten howe. ’Tis the fifte yeer sithen cruel Destinee hath me delivered hider … muchel hav I suffred, more thanne I conne telle … ywis, Fortune ys mercifyll, to lette me clappe mine ye upon a veray muccilid aforn I dye…” he babbled.
“Pull yourself together! Enough of that! Listen—you’re not by any chance from Intelligence?”
“Certeyn, fro Intelligentz. ’Twas Malingraut did sende me, here for to swinke and swelte moste grevously.”
“But why didn’t you flee?”
“Pray howe am I to flee, an’ my rokket be desmauntelled and eke to-shivered to flindren? Allas and weilaway, hard ys my lot! But ’tis tyme I retourne … shal we see everich other ageyn? Atte barracks, to-morwe … wiltow nat come?”
I agreed to meet him then, without even knowing what he looked like, and we said goodbye; cautioning me to wait there for a while yet, he disappeared into the blackness of the night. It was with a light heart that I reentered the city, for now I saw the chance of organizing a conspiracy. In order to conserve my strength, I stopped at the first inn that presented itself along the way and went to bed. Early next morning, while looking in the mirror, I noticed a chalk mark on my chest, a tiny cross, right below the left pauldron, and suddenly the scales fell from my eyes. That man—he had done this, intending to betray me! “The no-good skunk,” I muttered, frantically trying to think of what to do now. I wiped away the treacherous sign, but that wasn’t enough. He’d already made his report—I was sure of that—and they would start looking for this unknown mucilid, and obviously turn first to their registers, and call the most likely suspects in for questioning—I was there of course, on that list; the thought of being questioned made me shudder. I realized that somehow I had to divert suspicion from
Then suddenly I noticed a platoon of halberdiers slowly wending its way towards a meadow at the edge of the city, outlined against the last glimmer of the setting sun. Their behavior was peculiar. In the growing darkness of evening first one, then another separated himself from the ranks and, moving his feet as quietly as possible, crept into the bushes and disappeared. This struck me so odd that, in spite of my extreme depression, I got up quietly and set off after the one nearest me.
This was—I must add—at a time when the local shrubbery was bearing wild berries, similar in taste to whortleberries, sweet and full of flavor. I’d eaten them myself—whenever, that is, I was able to slip away from the iron metropolis. Picture my astonishment upon seeing the halberdier I’d been following pull out a tiny key, the exact duplicate of the one given me by the director of Division Headquarters, and use it to unfasten his visor from the left side, then, grabbing berries with both hands, stuff them into that open pit like a savage! Even from where I stood I could hear the sounds of slurping and gulping.
“Psst,” I hissed urgently. “Hey!”
With a single bound he went crashing into the underbrush, but didn’t get far—or else I would have heard him. He had fallen down somewhere.
“Listen,” I said in a lower voice, “don’t be afraid. I’m a man. A man. Disguised like yourself.”
Something like a single eye, glittering with fear and suspicion, peered out at me from behind a leaf,
“And howe woot I ye wil nat me biwreyen?” came a hoarse voice.
“But I’m trying to tell you. I came from Earth. They sent me specially.”
I had to persuade him a while more before he was reassured enough to crawl out of the bushes. He touched my armor in the darkness.
“Ye are a man? For sooth?”
“Why won’t you talk normally?” I asked.
“Tush, I hav foryeten howe. ’Tis the fifte yeer sithen cruel Destinee hath me delivered hider … muchel hav I suffred, more thanne I conne telle … ywis, Fortune ys mercifyll, to lette me clappe mine ye upon a veray muccilid aforn I dye…” he babbled.
“Pull yourself together! Enough of that! Listen—you’re not by any chance from Intelligence?”
“Certeyn, fro Intelligentz. ’Twas Malingraut did sende me, here for to swinke and swelte moste grevously.”
“But why didn’t you flee?”
“Pray howe am I to flee, an’ my rokket be desmauntelled and eke to-shivered to flindren? Allas and weilaway, hard ys my lot! But ’tis tyme I retourne … shal we see everich other ageyn? Atte barracks, to-morwe … wiltow nat come?”
I agreed to meet him then, without even knowing what he looked like, and we said goodbye; cautioning me to wait there for a while yet, he disappeared into the blackness of the night. It was with a light heart that I reentered the city, for now I saw the chance of organizing a conspiracy. In order to conserve my strength, I stopped at the first inn that presented itself along the way and went to bed. Early next morning, while looking in the mirror, I noticed a chalk mark on my chest, a tiny cross, right below the left pauldron, and suddenly the scales fell from my eyes. That man—he had done this, intending to betray me! “The no-good skunk,” I muttered, frantically trying to think of what to do now. I wiped away the treacherous sign, but that wasn’t enough. He’d already made his report—I was sure of that—and they would start looking for this unknown mucilid, and obviously turn first to their registers, and call the most likely suspects in for questioning—I was there of course, on that list; the thought of being questioned made me shudder. I realized that somehow I had to divert suspicion from
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