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soon, and he didn't want it to be overdone. The first course set the mood for the meal to come. He
looked around at his guests, and then winced slightly as he saw Stalker making his way determinedly
towards him. Gaunt sighed, and bowed politely to Stalker. The giant warrior inclined his head briefly in
response.
"I'd like a word with you, sir sorcerer."
"Of course, Adam. What can I do for you?"
"Sell me this house."
Gaunt shook his head firmly. "Adam, I've told you before; I'm not interested in selling. This house suits
me very well, and I've spent a great deal of time investing both it and the grounds with my own magical
protections. Moving now would be not only expensive and highly inconvenient, it would also mean at
least six months' hard work removing those spells before anyone else could live here."
"The money needn't be a problem," said Stalker. "I'm a rich man these days. You can name your price,
sorcerer."
"It's not a question of money, Adam. This house suits me. I'm quite happy here and I don't want to
move. Now I hate to be ungracious about this, but there's really no point in your continuing to pester me
about selling. Your gold doesn't tempt me in the least; I already have all I need. I don't see why this
house is so important to you, Adam. There are others just like it scattered all over the city. Why are you
so obsessed with mine?"
"Personal reasons," said Stalker shortly. "If you should happen to change your mind, perhaps you would
give me first refusal."
"Of course, Adam. Now, while you're here, I'd like a word with you."
"Yes?"
"What's happened between you and William? Have you quarreled?"
"No." Stalker looked steadily at Gaunt. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, come on, Adam; I'm not blind. I don't think the pair of you have exchanged two words you didn't
have to in the last few weeks. I thought perhaps you'd had a falling-out, or something."
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Stalker shook his head. "Not really. I'm here, aren't I? It was just a difference of opinion over what our
next project should be. It'll work itself out. And now, if you'll excuse me;"
He nodded stiffly to Gaunt, and walked away. The sorcerer watched him go, his face carefully
impassive. Something was wrong; he could feel it. Stalker might talk calmly enough, but the man was
definitely on edge. Still, it wasn't likely he'd make any trouble. Not here, not at William's party. Gaunt
frowned. Just the same, perhaps he'd better have a word with Bowman; see if he knew anything. If
something had happened to upset Stalker, he'd make a dangerous enemy.
Lord and Lady Hightower stood together, a little apart from the rest of the guests. Lord Roderik looked
out over the gathering, his eyes vague and far away. Lady Elaine put a gentle hand on his arm.
"You look pale, my dear. Are you feeling all right?"
"I'm fine. Really."
"You don't look it."
"It's the heat, that's all. I hate being trapped in the city during the summer. Damn place is like an oven,
and there's never a breath of fresh air. I'll be all right, Elaine. Don't fuss."
Lady Elaine hesitated. "I saw you talking to the Guards. That is him, isn't it?"
"Yes. He let our boy die."
"No, Rod. It wasn't that man Hawk's fault, and you know it. You can't go on blaming him for what
happened. Do you blame yourself for every soldier under your command who died in battle because you
didn't predict everything that could go wrong? Of course you don't."
"This wasn't a soldier. This was our son."
"Yes, Rod. I know."
"I was so proud of him, Elaine. He wasn't going to waste his life fighting other people's battles; he was
going to make something of his life. I was so proud of him;"
"I miss him as much as you, my dear. But he's gone now, and we have to get on with our lives. And
you've more important things to do than waste your time feuding with a Captain of the city Guard."
Lord Roderik sighed, and looked at her properly for the first time. For a moment it seemed he was
going to say something, and then he changed his mind. He looked down at her hand on his arm, and put
his hand on top of hers. "You're right, my dear. As usual. Just keep that man out of my sight. I don't want
to have to talk to Captain Hawk again."
Stalker picked up one of the canapés and studied it dubiously. The small piece of meat rolled in
pasta looked even smaller in his huge hand. He sniffed at it gingerly, shrugged, and ate it anyway. When
you're out in the wilds for days on end you can't ever be sure where your next meal's coming from. So
you eat what you can, when you can, or risk going hungry. Old habits die hard. Stalker looked about [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]