Stasheff, Christopher - Warlock of Gramarye 01 - Warlock in spite of himself by Stasheff Christopher

Author:Stasheff, Christopher
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2004-12-28T23:57:50+00:00

The demesne of the Loguires was a great, broad plain between the mountains and the sea. The low, rolling mountains stood at the north and east; beach curved in a wide semi-circle in the south; a sheer, hundred foot high cliff face towered in the northwest. The ocean battered at its seaward side; a waterfall 144

poured over the other face into the valley. A long, old river twisted over the plain to the sea.

The plain itself was a patchwork of fields, with here and there a cluster of peasant huts - Loguire's people.

Tom and Rod stood at the verge of one of the mountain forests, file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%...20Warlock%20In%20Spite%20Of%20Himself.htm (141 of 281) [12/28/2004 11:58:39 PM]

Christopher Stasheff where the road from the North fell away to the plain.

Rod turned his head slowly, surveying the demesne. 'And where,' he said, 'is the castle?'

'Why, back of the waterfall, master.'

Rod's head jerked around, staring at Tom; then he followed the road with his eyes.

It wound across the plain to the foot of the waterfall; there, where the cliff met the plain, a great gate was carved in the rock, complete with portcullis and a drawbridge over the natural moat formed by an oxbow of the river. The lords of Loguire had honeycombed the cliff for their home.

An exclamation point formed between Rod's eyebrows as they drew together. 'Is that a dike to either side of the drawbridge, Big Tom?'

'Aye, master; and there are said to be charges of gunpowder within it.'

Rod nodded, slowly. 'And the land before the portcullis gate sinks down. So if unwelcome callers come knocking, you blow up the dike, and your front door gets covered with thirty feet of water. Very neat. Then you just sit and wait out the siege. The waterfall gives you plenty of fresh water, so your only worry is food.'

'There are said to be gardens within the keep,' Big Tom supplied helpfully.

Rod shook his -head in silent respect. 'So you're completely defended, and stocked for a ten years' siege. This place ever been taken, Tom?'

The big man shook his head. 'Never, master.' He grinned.

'Wonder if the old boy who built this place was maybe a little bit paranoid. . . . Don't suppose they'd have room in that place for a couple of weary travelers, do you?'

Big Tom pursed his lips. 'Aye, master, if they were noblemen. The hospitality of the Loguires is famed. But for the likes of me, and even yourself, who are no more than a squire, master, that hospitality lies in the cottages.'

The sun winked. Rod scowled and peered into the sky. 'There's that damn bird again. Doesn't it know we're too big for lunch?' He unlimbered his crossbow and cranked it back to cocked.

'Nay, master.' Big Tom put out a hand 'You've lost four bolts on it already.'

file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%...20Warlock%20In%20Spite%20Of%20Himself.htm (142 of 281) [12/28/2004 11:58:39 PM]

Christopher Stasheff

'I just don't like anything airborne following me, Tom. They're not always what they seem.' Tom's brow furrowed at the cryptic statement. Rod tucked the stock into his shoulder. 'Besides, I've taken one shot a day at it for the last four days; it's getting to be a habit.

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