Sad Tale of the Brothers Grossbart - By Jesse Bullington Page 0,57
you mean?”
“Eh?”
“I’s sure a that,” Manfried said. “Ain’t you sure a the rest? Like his bein named Goose and bein a seaman?”
“Nah, I’s sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Better be, brother.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They glared at each other, then broke up laughing. Manfried spent a time straightening out the horses and piling the pieces he could not determine a use for in the back of the wagon. He led them by the bit to ensure everything stayed in place, then hopped onto the seat beside Hegel, who had half a pot of warm porridge waiting.
“Need Ellis, you said.” Manfried snorted.
“Aye, coward Ennio may a been, but he got pure fore he died.”
“Suppose so.” Manfried nodded. “Sight better than Ponce lettin that demon in, damn straight. Ennio’s sittin with Mary as we converse.”
“And what you think a that other one? Drowned in melted snow!”
“Who cares? They’s all’s weak as these ones, we’s gonna be princes a Italia and never need go to Arabtown!”
The day heated up, snow turning to sludge and impeding their progress until they left the gate and began winding up the road. Here the trail resembled stream more than highway but they persevered and a short time later stopped inside the gate of the monastery. With the demon safely destroyed, they could both retrieve their gear and finally get a peek inside that crypt.
“Be back in a bit,” Manfried called to the woman but got no response. He dallied but Hegel egged him on, and they hurried around the side, through the door and into the cemetery. They splashed through the mud and fell upon the sacks they had left behind. Their crossbows were wet but appeared serviceable, and the bottles they had pinched from the tavern were intact.
“Not demon, Devil, witch, or weather will keep us from our richly pleasure!” Manfried toasted.
“Bless Mary, and bless us too!” Hegel intoned solemnly, then they drank and clapped each other on the back.
Stowing the booze, they eagerly pushed open the crypt door and stepped inside. Hegel got their last rushlight aflame and swung it around the cramped interior, revealing three stone tombs. The bronze ornamentation they ignored, setting their prybars under the lids and putting them to their named use. Each contained an older skeleton than the last, but in the layers of dust and decay on the floors of the sarcophagi metal still glimmered. They fished out seven rings and a gold crucifix.
“Can melt him down.” Manfried grinned, stowing it in a pouch.
“Beauty better than any woman,” Hegel sighed, trying on a silver ring inlaid with green stones.
“Speakin a such,” said Manfried, “I oughta check on’er.”
“What for?”
“See if, uh, she wants some food. Ain’t et in our presence, gotta be famished.”
“That’s right civil a you, brother,” Hegel said. “Just be sure you don’t go pissin in our feedbag.”
“How’s that?” Manfried turned in the doorway.
“She noble or close enough. I’d reckon they’s smart enough to figure out we done somethin if somethin we do. So do all you can with your eyes, cause them hands a yours best stick to your own mecky self.”
“You got a wicked, unchristian mind.” Manfried stormed off, Hegel chuckling and polishing his rings on the step of the crypt.
Leaving the graveyard, Manfried noticed that the drapery covering the back of the wagon hung open. The only things inside were blankets and several boxes. Looking around, he saw a door on the rear of the monastery likewise ajar. Remembering that the demon had hinted at something regarding the abbey, he grabbed his crossbow before advancing. Poking his head in, he found it far too dark to attempt without both light and Hegel. He shouted for his brother, and when Hegel arrived they spent the heftier part of a little while getting the rushlight relit.
“Gonna claim this ax,” Hegel informed his brother. “Sword got buried back at the tavern and I might need a sharp edge stead a my pick.”
“Yours til somethin better turns up, then it’s mine again.”
“Proper. My bow looks a mite warped, so lets hope we ain’t gotta use’em.”
“Whatever you do, don’t shoot less you’s sure you gotta. No sense puttin a hole in our feedbag.” Manfried held up the sputtering reed.
“How’s that? Oh.”
Manfried led the way, Hegel instantly put off by both the darkness and the eye-watering stench they now equated with the pestilence. At the end of the hall stood a large door, and, exchanging a nervous glance, they shoved it open.
Unmistakably the kitchen, this room housed piles of wooden plates and cooking implements, as