Ron Goulart - The Curse of the Obelisk

THE CURSE OF THE OBELISK 37
The two husky men, decked out in fezes, short blue jackets loaded with glittering medals,
baggy red trousers and white leggings, were coming toward them as rapidly as they could across
the crowded restaurant deck. Each was holding a wicked-looking dagger in his teeth.
"Sure you don't want to hide under the—"
"Hooey."
The larger Zouave arrived first. "I am insulted," he snarled around the knife handle. "I can stand
no more. You, monsieur, have been making snide faces and wicked gestures at myself and my
companion for far too long."
"The honor of the regiment is at stake." His broad-shouldered companion took his knife from
his teeth to his hand.
"Fellows," said Harry, grinning amiably up at them, "I suggest you forget about the honor of
your alleged regiment and go quietly back to your table before you find yourselves picking your
backsides up off the deck."
"Gar! He insults us further." The bigger of the two grabbed his knife from between his jagged
teeth.
"I'll take this one," Harry said across the table.
He unexpectedly brought up his foot and kicked the Zouave resoundingly in the groin.
The tassle of the man's fez stood up straight. He yowled, doubled up and clutched at himself.
Harry kicked him in the knee. He then stood, grabbed the belligerent Zouave by his thick neck
and, seemingly with little effort, tossed him clean over the railing.
A paper lantern got tangled with the Zouave and it fell, shedding sparks, down to the dark Seine
with him.
Jennie had worked less flamboyantly. She'd punched her surprised Zouave hard in the
midsection, whacked him across the shin with a spare chair. Before he fully recovered from that,
Jennie shoved him against the railing, booted him in the backside and then tipped him over into the
river below.
"Very deft," said Harry just after the second splash.
Smiling, she rested her elbows on the railing and watched their two bedraggled attackers go
swimming toward a stone quay. "I suppose, Harry, we really should've kept at least one of those
louts to ask questions of and all."
"Maybe," he admitted. "Thing is, whenever I get into a brawl alongside a body of water, the
temptation to toss everybody in is too much."
Smiling, she straightened up the things atop their table and seated herself again. "Do you want
to explain this incident to the waiter who's running over here now? Or shall I?"
"I'll handle it," he offered. "Least I can do."