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companions.
His legs weren't made for rapid movement, and stride for stride, he definitely
came up short. "That's quoted from something?"
"A work by Robert Burton, unless I misremember."
"If you'll pardon my saying so, you seem very well educated to be traveling
with your current company."
"Well," Doc said with a smile, "I guess that depends on one's line of
thinking.
Myself I consider to be almost vastly undereducated when it comes to the art
of survival. But that man up there that I consider to be a friend, is a true
artiste.
Until today you evidently thought no one could destroy the men you traveled
with."
"That was not by choice."
"And my statement was not an accusation," Doc returned gently.
The dwarf was silent for a time. "His name is Ryan."
"Yes."
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Deathlands 42 - Way of the Wolf
"Does he have a last name?"
"Cawdor."
Albert looked up, eyes widening in surprise. "
That
Ryan Cawdor? The one whose father was a baron in the Shens? The Ryan Cawdor
who rode with the Trader on
War Wag One?"
"Yes," Doc said. "I see you have heard of him."
"In this part of Deathlands, who hasn't?" Albert stared at Ryan with increased
curiosity. "I thought somehow he would be bigger."
"Any man would be hard-pressed to fill that man's boots," Doc replied.
"If you have time in Hazard," the dwarf said, "I'd like to stand you to a
drink at
Cobb's. He's got a line of homemade wines that are among the best I've ever
had the chance to sample."
"Well, my small friend, an opportunity to lose one's melancholy in a bit of
the grape is always a fine thing."
"Cobb's doesn't just serve liquor," Albert stated. "There's books there.
Dozens of them. I'd like to hear what you have to say about them. And I know
Cobb would, too."
"I shall look forward to that." Doc glanced at the dwarf again. "I have a
suggestion to make, if I might."
"What?"
"Mayhap I could give you a few moments of respite by offering you my back for
a time." Doc hurried on before the little man could object. "In return for the
consideration you'll be showing me."
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Deathlands 42 - Way of the Wolf
The dwarf looked away, mopping at his sweating forehead with a handkerchief.
"I don't like feeling I owe anyone."
"Nonsense. You are going to be showing me an establishment that I might not
find on my own."
Albert was silent, then said, "Cobb's can be hard to find if you don't know
what you're looking for."
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"Then I take it we have a deal?" Doc stopped and thrust out his hand.
Hesitantly the little man put his hand out, as well. Doc knelt in front of him
and let him climb on. With his short arms, Albert had difficulty holding on.
Finally
Doc shoved him up onto his shoulders, and Albert sat there like a child.
The comparison cut Doc through to the quick. A memory, blunt as a ghost in a
Shakespearean play and as cutting as ridicule in Louis XIV's courts, drifted
into his mind. He had carried another small person like this in the past. A
name filtered through to his mind. "Rachel," he groaned, almost seeing the
little girl in his mind. Emily and Jolyon were there as well. In that moment,
Doc's heart turned to lead, weighing him down.
"Dr. Tanner?" Albert asked in concern.
Doc ignored the tears that trickled down his face. They would fade soon
enough, just as all the others had. "I am all right, my diminutive companion.
But please, honor me and entertain me with a discourse you have read, heard
about or imagined. Something that would keep my mind occupied as I walk this
winding path. And please call me Doc."
"A learned discourse, eh?" Albert asked. His voice brightened. "Do you know
Percy Shelley and Lord Byron?"
"The authors of
Prometheus Unbound and
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
, to name but a couple of their major works?" Doc asked. "By the Three
Kennedys, I would be remiss not having read their works, even more so not
having heard of them."
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Deathlands 42 - Way of the Wolf
"Those are the two."
Doc felt better already. Both poets were personal favorites of his. "Then pray
tell me."
"Okay," Albert said. "Shelley and Lord Byron go into this bar, see& "
RYAN CROUCHED at the top of the hill that led down to Hazard. The ville was
less than a quarter of a mile distant now. He surveyed it through his field
glasses.
Krysty knelt at his side, her hand resting casually on his thigh. "Look at the
houses, lover," she said wistfully. "All painted white and looking brand new."
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