The Bristling Wood - Katharine Kerr [126]
“Oh, er, ah, well, I don’t know.”
His face pale, the baker began edging for the door. Rhodry ignored him and went for Perryn. He grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the stone wall so hard that Perryn dropped the bread. Rhodry kicked it out of the way and slammed him again.
“Where’s Jill?”
“I don’t know.” Perryn was gasping for breath. “She left me. I swear it. She left me on the road.”
“I know that, dolt! Where?”
When Perryn smirked at him, Rhodry hit him in the stomach. He doubled over, choking, but Rhodry straightened him up and hit him again.
“Where did she leave you?”
Half blind from tears in his eyes, Perryn raised his head. Rhodry slapped him across the face.
“I know you’re going to kill me,” Perryn gasped. “Not going to tell you one rotten thing.”
Rhodry saw no reason to admit that he’d sworn a vow to leave him alive. He grabbed him by the shoulders, hauled him forward, and slammed into the stone again.
“Where is she? If you tell me, you live.”
“I don’t know, by the gods!”
Rhodry was about to hit him in the stomach a second time when he heard noises behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the white-faced baker, flanked by the blacksmith carrying an iron bar and two other men with threshing flails at the ready.
“Now what’s all this, silver dagger? You can’t ride in and just murder someone.”
“I’m not going to murder anyone. This whoreson piss-pot little bastard stole my wife away, and now he won’t tell me where she is.”
The four villagers considered, glancing at one another and at the sword at Rhodry’s side. Even though the four of them would have had more than a good chance against one man, no matter how skilled with a sword, it seemed they were the prudent sort.
“Ah well,” the blacksmith said. “Then it’s no affair of ours, if he’s been meddling with your woman.”
“Just get him out of my house,” the baker moaned.
“Gladly. Rats don’t belong in a granary.”
Rhodry twisted Perryn’s right arm behind his back and shoved him out of the bakery. When his victim struggled, Rhodry swung him sideways and knocked him against the wall of the next house so hard that he screamed.
“Where’s Jill?”
“I don’t know, and I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”
Rhodry hit him in the stomach so hard he vomited, falling to his knees. When he was done, Rhodry hauled him up, twisted his arm again, and then marched him round the bakery to a big stone shed. He threw him face forward against the wall, peeled him off and turned him round, then shoved him back again. By then Perryn could barely stand up.
“For the last time, where is she?”
Gasping, Perryn wiped feebly at the blood pouring from his nose and from a cut over his eye. Rhodry unbuckled his sword belt and let it drop.
“Come on, coward! Draw on me, if you dare.”
Perryn merely gasped and sniveled. Rhodry’s stomach tightened in sheer contempt.
“You base-born little half-gelded swine!”
Rhodry jumped him, grabbed him with one hand, and began hitting him as hard as he could with the other. The pleasure of beating Perryn filled his entire mind, just as when a sheet of flame races through the forest and sweeps everything before it. Suddenly he remembered the holy vow he’d sworn to Benoic. He let Perryn go and leaned him back against the wall. Fortunately, the lord was still breathing. He looked at Rhodry for a moment with glazed eyes, one of which was already swelling shut, tried to speak, gasped, then crumpled, sliding slowly down the wall to the ground. Rhodry gave him one last kick and turned to find the four villagers, standing as solemnly as judges, and three small boys, wide-eyed with excitement. Nearby was the gray gnome, clapping its hands and grinning while it did a little victory dance. Rhodry retrieved his sword belt and buckled it on while he caught his breath.
“There. I didn’t murder him, did I now?”
They all shook their heads in agreement.
“I thought silver daggers didn’t have wives,” said one of the boys.
“I did. Let me tell you somewhat. If ever you find another silver dagger with a wife, then you keep your