The Warlock in Spite of Himself - Warlock 01 by Cristopher Stasheff Read Free Book Online

must serve me.'
    Tom's lower lip thrust out, pouting. 'Not must, my master -only that I wants to.'
    'A robber,' said Rod, 'A cutpurse. And I'm to trust you.'
    Big Tom's hat twisted again.
    'You've got an open face,' Rod mused, 'not the kind of face that hides its feelings.'
    Big Tom smiled widely, nodding..
    'Of course, that doesn't mean anything,' Rod went on. 'I've known quite a few gentle-seeming girls that turned out to be first-class bitches.'
    Tom's face fell.
    'So you might be honest - or you might be a thorough rogue. It's a Fess-cinating puzzle.'
    The voice behind his ear murmured, 'Preliminary interpretation of available data indicates basically simplistic personality structure. Probability of individual serving as reliable source of information on local social variables exceeds probability of individual practicing serious duplicity.'
    Rod nodded slowly. He would have settled for an even chance. He fished a scrap of silver from his purse - it smelt slightly of garlic - and slapped it into the big man's hand.
    Tom stared at the silver in his palm, then at Rod, then back at the metal.
    Abruptly, his hand closed into a fist, trembling slightly. His staring eyes came up to Rod again.
    'You've accepted my coin,' said Rod. 'You're my man.'
    Big Tom's face split from ear to ear in a grin. He ducked his head.
    'Yes master! I thanks you, master! Forever I thanks you, master! I-'
    'I get the message.' Rod hated to see a grown man grovel. 'You go on duty right now. Tell me, what are the chances of getting a job with the Queen's army?'
    'Oh, most excellent, master!' Big Tom grinned. 'They're always needing new sojers.'
    A bad omen, Rod decided.
    'Okay,' he said. 'Duck back inside, find out which room we've been assigned, and check it to make sure there isn't a cutthroat in the closet.'
    'Yes, master! Right away!' Big Tom bustled back into the inn. Rod smiled, closed his eyes, and let his head fall back against the jamb. He rolled his head from side to side, laughing silently. He would never cease to be amazed at the bully psychology; how a man could go from arrogance to servility in less than ten minutes, he would never understand.
    A low, quavering wail cut the night air, soaring into a shriek. Rod's eyes snapped open. Sirens? In this culture?
    The sound was coming from the left he looked up, and saw the castle, there on its hilltop.
    And there, at the base of the tower, something glowed, and keened like a paddy wagon lamenting the death of some squad cars. The guests tumbled out of the inn to stand in the courtyard, staring and pointing.
    ''Tis the banshee!'
    'Again!'
    'Nay, all will be well. Hath it not appeared thrice before? And yet the Queen lives!'
    'Fess,' Rod said carefully.
    'Yes, Rod.'
    'Fess, there's a banshee. On the castle battlements. A banshee, Fess.'
    There was no answer.
    Then a raucous buzz snarled behind Rod's ear, swelled till it threatened to shake his head apart, and cut off.
    Rod shook his head and pounded his temple with the heel of his hand.
    'I'm going to have to have that boy overhauled,' he muttered. 'He used to have quiet seizures.'
    It would have been unwise for Rod to go to the stables to reset Fess while the inn-yard was full of gawkers; he would have been thoroughly conspicuous.
    So he went up to his room, to lie down till things had quieted down a bit; and, of course, by the time the courtyard was clear, Rod was too comfortable to take the trouble of going down to the stables. No real reason to reset the robot, anyway; it would be a quiet night. The room was dark, except for a long swathe of light streaming in the window from the largest moon. There was a subdued murmur and clatter from the common room - night-owl guests drinking late. Rod's chamber was very peaceful.
    Not quiet, though. Big Tom, curled up on a pallet at the foot of the bed, snored like a bulldozer on idle, making more noise asleep than he did awake.
    Now there was a riddle - Big Tom. Rod had never before been in a fight where