A Stainless Steel Rat Is Born

"Good morn, brothers," I called out cheerfully, gun on shoulder, sword in hand, gut in and chest out. "Is this the establishment of the Capo Dimonte, known the length and breadth of the land for his charm and strength of arm?" "Who wants to know?" "I do. An armed and powerful soldier who wishes to enlist in his noble service." "Your choice, brother, your choice," he said with obvious gloom. "Through the gate, across the courtyard, third door on your right, ask for Sire Srank." He leaned close and whispered. "For three groats I'll give you a tip." "Done." "So pay." "Shortly. I'm a little skint right now." "You must be-if you want to hire out to this lot. All right, five then, in five days." I nodded agreement. "He'll offer you very little, but don't settle for less than two groats a day." "Thanks for the credit. Ill get back to you." I swaggered through the gate and found the right door. It was open to admit the last light, and a fat man with a bald head was scratching away at some papers. He looked up when my shadow fell across the table.

"Get out here," he shouted, scratching his head so hard that a shower of dandruff sparkled in the sunbeam. "I've told you all, no groats until morning after next." "I've not enlisted yet — nor will I if that's the way you pay the troops. " "Sorry, good stranger, sun in my eyes. Come in, come in. Enlist? Of course. Gun and sword-and ammunition?" "Some." "Wonderful." His hands rustled when he dry-washed them. "Food for you and your knave and a groat a day." "Two a day and all ammunition used to be replaced. " He . scowled-then shrugged and scratched one of the sheets and pushed it over to me. "A one-year enlistment, salary open to review at end of contract. Since you can't read or write I hope you can manage to scratch your illiterate X down here." "I can read so well I see that you have me down for four years, which I will now correct before I sign." Which I did, writing Judge Nixon's name on the line, knowing full well that I would be leaving well before my enlistment was up. "I'll get my knave who awaits without, along with my aged father. " "No extra food for poor relations!" he snarled generously. "You share yours." "Agreed," I said. "You're all heart." I went back to the gate and waved my companions over. "You owe me," the guard said.

"I'll pay you-when that scrofulous toad pays me." He grunted agreement. "If you think he's bad-wait until you meet Capo Dimonte. I wouldn't be hanging around this damp dump if it weren't for the loot bonus. " They were coming on slowly. The Bishop half dragging the reluctant Dreng.

"Loot bonus? Paying out soon?" "Soon as the fighting is over. We march tomorrow." "Against Capo Doccia?" "No such luck. The word is that he is loaded with jewels and golden groats and more. Be nice to share in that haul. But not this time. All they have told us is that we are heading north. Must be a surprise attack on someone, 167 probably a friend, and they don't want word to leak out That's good thinking. Catch them with their drawbridge down and it's half the battle." I pondered this bit of military wisdom as I led my small band in the indicated direction. The soldier's quarters, while not. something to put in a travel brochure, were certainly a cut above the slave quarters. Wooden bunks with straw mattresses for the fighting men — some straw under the bunk for the knave. I would have to make some arrangements for The Bishop, but I was sure that bribery would take care of that. We sat together on the bunk while Dreng went to find the kitchen. "How is the back?" I asked.

"Sore, but only a small bother. I'll take bit of a rest, then begin a survey of the layout..." "In the morning will be time enough. It has been a long couple of days." "Agreed. And here is your knave with the food!" It was a hot stew with fragments of some nameless bird bobbing in it. Had to be a bird; the feathers were still attached. We divided the stew into three equal portions and wolfed it down. All this fresh air and walking was certainly good for the appetite. There was also a ration of sour wine which neither I nor The Bishop could stomach. Not so Dreng, who slurped and smacked his way through it in moments. Then rolled under the bunk and began to snore raucously.

"I'm going to have a look around," I said. "Take a rest on the bunk until I get back..." I was interrupted by an off-key blare on a bugle. I looked up to see that the malevolent musician was standing in the doorway. He emitted another toneless blast. I was ready to grab him by the throat if he tried it again, but he stepped aside and bowed. A thin figure in blue uniform took his place. All of the soldiers who were watching bowed their heads slightly or shook their weapons in salute, so I did the same. It could be no other than Capo Dimonte himself.