The Chick Is In The Mail

want to do it? Like hell it did. What it did was, it scared the crap out of me. I said, 'I don't want to marry anybody, for crying out loud. I just want to get the hell outa here, if you want to know the truth.'

Brunhild thought about that for a couple seconds. Then she sat up. The chainmail made little clink-clank noises when she moved-molding itself to her shape, you know? She had a hell of a shape, too, I have to admit it. A really nice set of knockers.

'What is your name?' she said, so I told her. Just like old Regin Fafnirsbruder's had, her eyes got big. ' Hagen Kriemhild?'

If you really want to know, I was getting pretty goddam tired of that. I said it again, the right way, louder this time, like you would to somebody who was pretty dumb.

But it went right by her. I could tell. Old Brunhild wasn't much for intellectual conversation. She said, 'How came you here, Hagen Kriemhild?'

'That's a goddam good question.' I explained it as well as I could. It sounded crazy as hell even to me, and I'd been through it. She was gonna think I'd gone right off the deep end.

Only she didn't. When I finally got through, old Brunhild said, 'Regin Fafnirsbruder is an evil man. How not, when Fafnir his brother is an evil worm? But I shall settle with him. You need have no doubt of that.'

She stood up. She was almost as tall as I was, which surprised me, because I have a lot of heighth and she was a girl and everything. But she really was, so help me God. She took out her sword. It went wheep when it came out of the old scabbard, and the blade kind of glowed even though the bedroom wasn't what you'd call bright or anything.

'What are you gonna do with that thing?' I said, which has to be one of the stupidest goddam questions of all time. Sometimes I scare myself, I really do. Am I a goddam moron, too, just like everybody else?

But old Brunhild took it just like any other question. 'I am going to punish him for what he did to me, for this humiliation. Come with me, Hagen Kriemhild, and guard my back. He has besmirched your honor as well as mine.'

I don't know what the hell she thought I was gonna guard her back with. I had some German money in my pocket, and my traveler's checks and all, and a little leftover French money I'd forgotten to change, and that was about it. I didn't even have a pocket knife, for crying out loud, and I'm not what you'd call the bravest guy in the world anyhow. I'm pretty much of a chicken, if you want to know the truth. But I followed old Brunhild outa there just the same. If she could get out through the fire, maybe I could too. I hoped like hell I could, anyway.

There was old Regin Fafnirsbruder on the other side of the flames. He gave Brunhild the phoniest bow you ever saw in your life. 'So good you to see,' he said. What he sounded like was, he sounded like the headwaiter at this fancy restaurant where all the rich phonies and all their whory-looking girlfriends go to eat and he has to be nice and suck up to the sonsuvbitches all day long even though he hates their stinking guts. 'Does your bridegroom you please?' He laughed this really dirty laugh. Pimps wish they could laugh the way old Regin Fafnirsbruder laughed right then, honest to God.

Old Brunhild started yelling and cussing and whooping and hollering like you wouldn't believe. She started waving that goddam sword around, too. She wasn't very careful with it, either-she damn near chopped me a couple of times, let me tell you. I had to duck like a madman, or I swear to God she would've punctured me.

All old Regin Fafnirsbruder did was, he kept laughing. He was laughing his ass off, to tell you the truth. He really was.

Well, that just made old Brunhild madder. 'You will pay for your insolence!' she said, and so help me if she didn't charge right on out through the fire. I halfway thought she'd cook. But she was hotter than the flames, and they didn't hurt her one bit.

Anyway, I figured I'd better try and get outa there, too. Old Regin Fafnirsbruder had said Brunhild was my only chance of doing that, and she'd said I was supposed to guard her back even though I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do if somebody did go and jump on her. So I ran after her. People always say I never listen to anybody, practically, but that's a goddam lie. Well, it was this time.

I didn't run all that goddam hard, though, on account of I didn't know for sure if the fire would let me go the way it did for old Brunhild. But it felt like it did when that goddam sonuvabitch moron bastard Regin Fafnirsbruder pushed me through it going the other way-it was hot but not hot, if you know what I mean.

Let me tell you, old Regin Fafnirsbruder didn't look any too happy when Brunhild burst out of the ring of fire with me right behind her-not that he paid all that much attention to me, the lousy crumby moron. Actually, when you get down to it, I can't blame him for that, to tell you the truth. Here was this ordinary guy, and here was this goddam girl with chainmail and this sword coming after him yelling, 'Now you shall get what you deserve!' and swinging that old sword like she wanted to chop his head off-and she did, honest to God.

But old Regin Fafnirsbruder was a lot sprier than he looked. He ducked and he dodged and she ran right on by him. The sword went wheet! a couple times but it didn't cut anything but air. And old Regin Fafnirsbruder laughed his ass off again and said, 'Your blade is my life to drink not fated.'

Well, old Brunhild was already madder than hell, but that only pissed her off worse. She started swinging that sword like a madman-up, down, sideways, I don't know what all. I swear to God, I don't know how old Regin Fafnirsbruder didn't get himself chopped into dog food, either, I really don't, Houdini couldn't have gotten out of the way of that sword, but Regin Fafnirsbruder did. He was a bastard, but he was a slick bastard, I have to admit it.

Finally, he said, 'This grows boring. I shall another surprise for you one day have.' Then he was gone. One second he was there, the next second he wasn't. I don't know how the hell he did it. I guess maybe he really was a magician, for crying out loud.

Old Brunhild, she needed like half a minute to notice he'd disappeared, she really did. She just kept hacking and slashing away like there was no tomorrow. She'd already hit the ceiling in fourteen different places, and she wasn't anywhere close to ready to calm down. I wanted to keep the hell out of her way, was all I wanted to do right about then, if you want to know the truth.

Only I couldn't. There was this castle with the ring of fire around it, and there was the slope that headed down toward old Isenstein and the Rhine that didn't stink any more, and there were me and old Brunhild. That was it. Talk about no place to hide. If she decided I was in cahoots with old Regin Fafnirsbruder after all, she'd chop me in half. I didn't know how the hell he'd dodged her, but I knew goddam well I didn't have a chance.

Anyway, Brunhild finally figured out old Regin Fafnirsbruder'd flown the coop. She didn't rub her eyes or go 'I can't believe it' or anything like that. She just sort of shrugged her shoulders, so the chainmail went clink-clank again, and she said, 'Curse his foul sorcery.'

Then she remembered I was there. I swear to God, I wouldn't've been sorry if she'd forgotten. She walked over to me, that crazy armor jingling every step she took, and she looked up into my face. Like I said before, she didn't have to look up very goddam far, on account of she had almost as much heighth as I did.

'You came through the fire for me,' she said. 'You did it unwittingly, I think, and aided by Regin Fafnirsbruder's magecraft, but the wherefores matter only so much. What bears greater weight is that you did it.'

'Yeah, I guess I did.'

Old Brunhild nodded. The sun shone off her helmet like a spotlight off the bell of a trombone in a nightclub. She took this deep breath. 'However it was done, it was done. As I said when first you woke me, if you would claim me for your bride, you may.' And she looked at me like if I was crumby enough to do it, she'd spit in my eye, honest to God she did.

Isn't that a bastard? Isn't that a bastard and a half, as a matter of fact? Here's this girl-and she's a pretty girl, she really is, especially if you like blondes about the size of football players-and she was saying 'Yeah, you can give me the time, all right, and I won't say boo,' only I know she'll hate me forever if I do. And when old Brunhild hated somebody, she didn't do it halfway. Ask Regin Fafnirsbruder if you don't believe me, for crying out loud. And she was holding on to that sword so tight, her knuckles were white. They really were.

I said, 'When I woke you up back there, in that crazy old castle and all, didn't you tell me you were in there waiting for Sieg-for somebody?' I couldn't even remember what the hell his name was, not to save my life.

'For Siegfried.' Old Brunhild's face went all gooey again. I'd kind of like to have a girl look that way when she says my name-or else I'd like to puke, one or the other. I'm not sure which, I swear.

'Well,' I said, 'in that case maybe you'd better go on back in there and wait some more, don'tcha think?'

She swung up that old sword again. I got ready to run like a madman, I'm not kidding. But she didn't do any chopping-it was some kind of crazy salute instead. 'Ja,' she said, just like old Regin Fafnirsbruder, and then she put the sword back in the sheath. 'I will do that.' And then she leaned forward and stood up on tiptoe-just a little, on account of she was pretty goddam tall, like I say-and she kissed me right on the end of the nose.

Girls. They drive you nuts, they really do. I don't even think they mean to sometimes, but they do anyway.

I wanted to grab her and give her a real kiss, but I didn't quite have the nerve. I'm always too slow at that kind of stuff. Old Brunhild, she nodded to me once, and then she walked on back through the fire like it wasn't even there. I heard the door close. I bet she laid down on that old sofa again and fell asleep waiting for old Sieg-whatever to get done with whatever he was doing and come around to give her a call.

As soon as that door closed, I decided I wanted to kiss her after all. I ran toward the ring of fire, and I damn near-damn near- burned my nose off. I couldn't go through it, not any more.

No Brunhild. Damn. I shoulda laid her, or at least kissed her. I'm always too goddam slow, for crying out loud. I swear to God, it's the story of my life. No Regin Fafnirsbruder, either. I don't know where the hell he went, or when he's coming back, or if he's ever coming back.

If he's not, I'm gonna be awful goddam late making that Rhine boat connection to old Dusseldorf.

What's left here? A crumby castle I can't get into and that little tiny town down there by the river where Isenstein used to be or will be or whatever the hell it is. That's it. I wish I'd paid more attention in history class, I really do.

Well, what the hell? I started toward old-or I guess I mean new-Isenstein. I wonder if they've invented scotch yet. I swear, I really wish I'd paid more attention in history class.

Jesus Christ, they're bound to have beer at least, right?