Page 83 of Swordheart
Great god, they were both still looking at him! As if they expected an answer!
He cleared his throat. “Well, I take my cock out in the usual way and aim somewhere and try to relax…”
Zale burst out laughing. “No, not that bit!”
Halla’s shoulders were shaking. Sarkis appreciated that she wasn’t laughing in his face.
“Does the urine dematerialize? Into blue light, as you do?”
“No,” said Sarkis. “Definitely not. I’d notice.”
“Hmm,” said Zale. “And of course, by definition, you’re never around to see what happens after you dematerialize…”
Halla leaped down from the wagon. Sarkis looked after her, not sure what exactly she was planning.
And if I’m being honest, a little afraid to find out.
The wagon door creaked as she opened it. The ox never looked right or left, plodding along. Neither did Brindle.
Halla was back a moment later, holding a crockery jar. Sarkis recognized it as having held the jam they used at breakfast.
“Here!” she said, holding it up. “You can go in this!”
Sarkis stared at her, then at Zale, then back at her.
“It would be a good way to check,” the priest said. “We’ll put you back in the sword, and then we’ll know if it vanishes or not.”
Sarkis looked around for help. Brindle glanced at him, shook his head, and said, “Ask somebody else, sword-man. A gnole isn’t getting involved.”
Defeated, Sarkis took the jar. “I… uh. In front of you?”
It wasn’t that he hadn’t answered the call of nature with his men any number of times, of course, but there was a difference between simply living in close proximity to others and having two people staring at you with intense interest, waiting for…
“I’m not going to be able to do this with you staring at me.”
“You can go in the bushes, if you like,” said Halla.
Zale nodded.
Sarkis counted to seventy-two, slid off the wagon seat, and went to go further the pursuit of knowledge.
“Yay!” said Halla, when Sarkis handed her the jar.
“No one,” said Sarkis wearily, “in my entire life, has ever said ‘yay’ when I handed them a jar of piss.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
Zale peered into the jar and wrinkled their nose. “This should do fine. May we sheathe the sword now?”
Sarkis lifted his hands and let them drop. “Sure. Of course. Why not.”
“I don’t think he’s really getting into the spirit of this,” said Halla.
“He does seem a bit dour, doesn’t he?”
“… I’m still right here, you know.”
“Well, we’ll fix that,” said Halla cheerfully. She slung the sword off her shoulder, unpicked the cords, and sheathed the sword the final inch.
