The Second Book of Lankhmar

things grow chilly with evening.” She looked around her thoughtfully. “Why, Swordsman Fafhrd is all gooseflesh,” she announced, then blushed and tapped her lips reprovingly. “Close your jerkin, sir. ‘Twill save you from catarrh and perchance from further embarrassment a girl who is unused to any sight of man-flesh save in slaves.”
    “Here is a tastier plum,” the Mouser called from beside the bag. Hisvet smiled at him and lightly tossed him back-handed the plum she'd sampled. He dropped that overboard and tossed her the second plum. She caught it deftly, lightly squeezed it, touched it to her lips, shook her head sadly though still smiling, and tossed back the plum. The Mouser, smiling gently too, caught it, dropped it overboard and tossed her a third. They played that way for some time. A shark following in the wake of the Squid got a stomachache.
    The black kitten came single-footing back along the starboard rail with a sharp eye to larboard. Fafhrd seized it instantly as any good general does opportunity in the heat of battle.
    “Have you seen the ship's catling, Little Mistress?” he called, crossing to Hisvet, the kitten almost hidden in his big hands. “Or perhaps we should call the Squid the catling's ship, for she adopted it, skipping by herself aboard just as we sailed. Here, Little Mistress. It feels sun-toasted now, warmer than any plum,” and he reached the kitten out sitting on the palm of his right hand.
    But Fafhrd had been forgetting the kitten's point of view. Its fur stood on end as it saw itself being carried toward the rats and now, as Hisvet stretched out her hand toward it, showing her upper teeth in a tiny smile and saying, “Poor little waif,” the kitten hissed fiercely and raked out stiff-armed with spread claws.
    Hisvet drew back her hand with a gasp. Before Fafhrd could drop the kitten or bat it aside, it sprang to the top of his head and from there onto the highest point of the tiller.
    The Mouser darted to Hisvet, crying meanwhile at Fafhrd, “Dolt! Lout! You knew the beast was half wild!” Then, to Hisvet, “Demoiselle! Are you hurt?”
    Fafhrd struck angrily at the kitten and one of the helmsmen came back to bat at it too, perhaps because he thought it improper for kittens to walk on the tiller. The kitten made a long leap to the starboard rail, slipped over it, and dangled by two claws above the curving water.
    Hisvet was holding her hand away from the Mouser and he was saying, “Better let me examine it, Demoiselle. Even the slightest scratch from a filthy ship's cat can be dangerous,” and she was saying, almost playfully, “No, Dirksman, I tell you it's nothing.”
    Fafhrd strode to the starboard rail, fully intending to flick the kitten overboard, but somehow when he came to do it he found he had instead cupped the kitten's rear in his hand and lifted it back on the rail. The kitten instantly sank its teeth deeply in the root of his thumb and fled up the aftermast. Fafhrd with difficulty suppressed a great yowl. Slinoor laughed.
    “Nevertheless, I will examine it,” the Mouser said masterfully and took Hisvet's hand by force. She let him hold it for a moment, then snatched it back and drawing herself up said frostily, “Dirksman, you forget yourself. Not even her own physician touches a Demoiselle of Lankhmar, he touches only the body of her maid, on which the Demoiselle points out her pains and symptoms. Leave me, Dirksman.”
    The Mouser stood huffily back against the taffrail. Fafhrd sucked the root of his thumb. Hisvet went and stood beside the Mouser. Without looking at him, she said softly, “You should have asked me to call my maid. She's quite pretty.”
    Only a fingernail clipping of red sun was left on the horizon. Slinoor addressed the crow's nest: “What of the black sail, boy?”
    “She holds her distance, master,” the cry came back. “She courses on abreast of us.”
    The sun went under with a faint green flash. Hisvet bent her head sideways and kissed the Mouser on the neck, just under the ear. Her tongue tickled.
    “Now I lose her, master,” the crow's nest called. “There's mist to the northwest. And to the northeast ... a small black cloud ... like a black ship specked with light ... that moves through the air. And now that fades too. All gone, master."
    Hisvet straightened her head. Slinoor came toward them muttering, “The crow's nest sees too much.” Hisvet shivered and said, “The White Shadows will take a chill.