"With Your Highness' permission," intoned Yodel pompously. He turned to the grim, scarred, guardsmen armed in worn black leather, "You may proceed, my man.""Begging your pardon, MASTER," said Salmack, a gaunt, sallow man with a halbard, "but I've no real notion to go off with, savin' yer reverence, a pack of Outties, without a friend to guard me back." He turned to another of the black-armed guards. "Halphas! Follow me!" he barked, and strode into the Portal.
"Here! Here, my man!" gulped Yodel, " I countermand that order!" But it was too late -- shrugging, Halphas shouldered HIS halbard, and disappeared through the magic door.
"Y-your Highness! Such impudence!" gabbled Yodel, "Why, fellows!" he cried rushing up to the portal and shouting after them, "You'll find your wages docked for this!" He sighed. "'T is so hard to find good help in these dark times -- uh, no offense to you two, good fellows," he remarked nervously to the two remaining guardsmen, who stood regarding the Merchant with most unpleasant grins.
"Well, 't is done," he said, turning to the Princess, "now, Your Highness, touching this matter of Lord Droth. Will it please you to send for this fellow, to answer for his threats against me and the dignity of the Guild?"
"Good Yodel," said the Princess, statelily, "Our own palace guard keeps watch on the Lord of Yarhaven. Yet I wonder..." she said, with a shadow of trouble upon her face, "As the Elf-Poet Yuvenall once said, 'Kwis kuusttodyet kuustohdase ypsose? -- Who is guarding the guards?' Captain Aumeric and Lord Droth are ever close in counsel. Lady Helmwigge, have we anyone that can give us private avisement of the Lord of Yarhaven?"
