Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock of Gramarye 09 - The Warlock Insane by Stasheff Christopher

Author:Stasheff, Christopher
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

Chapter Eleven

Rod seemed to have an affinity for dungeons; if there was one around, sooner or later, he'd wind up in it. It was a convenient place for baring the soul, not necessarily his.

In this case, he found out where he was after he got the aftertaste out of his mouth. The medicine hit him like a jolt of electricity, wrinkling his tongue with the intensity of its sourness and blowing off the back of his head. He levered himself up far enough to free a hand to feel his scalp, reassuring himself it was still there, and perforce opened his eyes.

He saw Beaubras, unhelmed and anxious, frowning down at him. His face lightened with relief when he saw Rod's eyes. "So, then. Thou'it with us once again."

"So it would seem." Rod wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Pffah! What was that stuff?"

"A restorative potion. The wizard who gave it assured that it would raise me from any wound, no matter how grievous, provided only that I could still swallow."

"But after that, would you really want to? Though I have to admit, it works like a charm." He frowned. "Wait a minute—it is a charm."

"It hath restored thee most remarkably," Modwis rumbled.

"All right for you—you didn't have to take it. Wouldn't recommend it, would you, Beaubras?"

"I know not, friend," the knight said with a gentle smile. "I ha' ne'er tasted it."

"What!" Rod stared, appalled. "Your only dose of a magic restorative, and you gave it to me? What's going to happen when you're really badly hurt?"

"I will mend," the knight assured him. "I will ever have mine amulet."

"Oh, yes—the Astounding Amulet of Ambrosius." Beaubras wore a magic pendant that could turn into whatever charm he needed, to get him out of any bind that Grandfather had put him in. It had been Rory's standard deus ex machina, which Rod had always regarded with amused tolerance, once he had been taught about such things. All of a sudden, it didn't seem so lame an excuse, after all.

Still, Rod felt like a robber. He opened his mouth to protest again, but Modwis laid a hand on his arm. "Let it rest, Lord Gallowglass."

Rod locked gazes with him, and realized just how ungracious he was being. "I thank you deeply, Sir Knight," he said. "I stand in your debt."

"Then help me to rescue my lady," Beaubras enjoined him.

Rod looked up, managing a crooked smile. Then he frowned around at the gloom, relieved only by the yellow glow coming in through the grille in

the door. "We don't seem to have come up in the world."

"Not so," Beaubras assured him. "We have come into the keep. Our friend Modwis hath something of a gift with

Cold Iron and its intricacies, and hath managed most wondrously with the lock."

" 'Twas a gross old thing." There was too little light to tell, but Rod would have been willing to bet Modwis was flushed with pleasure at the compliment. " 'Twas quick enough work to turn it. In truth, the rust did withhold me longer than the mechanism.

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