"DeChancie,.John.-.Castle.07.-.Castle.Spellbound" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dechancie John)

Castle Perilous Book 7

Castle Spellbound

John DeChancie



This book is dedicated to
Ann Cecil, Barb Carlson, Kevin, Charlene, and Sasha Riley, Glenn Chambers, Mary Tabasko, Deborah Ayres, Don Cox, Erin Kelly, Jim Lutton, Matt Urick, Jeff Nartic, Janet Staples, Nancy Janda, Lara VanWinkle, Don Turner, Randy Hoffman and all the members of the Pittsburgh Area Realtime Scientifiction Enthusiasts' Club, affectionately known as PARSEC.




"Fairy fair, Fairy fair, wish thou me well; 'Gainst evil witcheries weave me a spell!"

OUR STORY BEGINS

ONCE UPON A TiME, in a great enchanted castle far, far away, there lived two apprentice magicians, Thorsby and Fetchen by name.
They liked to party.
Drinking and wenching were their chief avocations, magic being merely something they had to do to earn their keep. Mediocre sorcerers, they were quite adept at procrastination. In fact, at the craft of inventing excuses to take longer than was necessary to accomplish their appointed tasks, and in the fine art of goldbricking in general, they were past masters.
And they were continually being called on the carpet for it.
"Miserable wastrels!"
Thorsby looked up from his gin rummy hand. "Sorry, Spellmaster. What was it you said?"
"Stand to attention!"
Thorsby and Fetchen shot to their feet. Cards fluttered to the oaken floor.
"Turn around!"
Spellmaster Grosmond clasped his hands behind his back and paced back and forth in front of them, dressing them up and down with dark, close-set hawk's-eyes. He didn't like what he saw.
He stopped before Thorsby, bringing his nose to within an inch of the apprentice's.
"Were you or were you not supposed to look after the ventilation spell in the east wing of the keep?"
"I was, sir."
"And did you?"
"I . . . I'm afraid I haven't got to it quite yet, sir."
"Not quite yet. I see. And might I ask when you'll be troubling yourself?"
"Uh, immediately, sir. I was just going to get to it after break."
"Ah, you're on break, are you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Both of you?"
"Yes, sir," Fetchen confirmed.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but haven't you two been on break all morning?"
"No, sir!" they piped.
"I swear I walked past this ready room just after breakfast and saw the two of you fiddling with pasteboard, just as now."
"Sir, couldn't have been us," Thorsby suggested.
"I suppose not. My mistake."
Stroking his gray beard, Grosmond sidestepped to Fetchen. "Am I again mistaken or did I see a report about flies in the Queen's Dining Hall on this morning's task sheet?"
"You did, sir."
"And did you, Master Fetchen, as Pest-Remover-onWatch, go to the Queen's Dining Hall and find flies?"
"Yes, sir. Swarms of them. How they got there is anyone's guess."
"I could venture one. They came through a nearby outdoor portal, caught the scent of food, and went directly thence. Sound plausible to you?"
"Rather plausible at that, sir."