Monstrous Races Read Online Free PDF

her tail at him and lapped more water, her head resting in the sunlight. He quickly pulled his trousers on and dipped his head in the trough before sneaking back to the inn.
    The door creaked open and he pushed his head through; all was deserted downstairs. There was no sign of blood on the floor, and he presumed that the fallen innkeeper had scrabbled up and left his own building. Tankards and a few bearded snoring men were strewn across the tables and over the floors. He crept through them all until he found the larder and started to make breakfast, thinking and planning as he did so. More men slowly appeared and some sobered up as the smell of bacon sizzling was too much for them, drinking the innkeeper’s beer and laughing at his hospitality. They guzzled and burped, helping themselves to whatever they found. George worked on quickly and quietly, eating his food in the kitchen on his own. He took two trays filled with the best cuts up to his Master and Mistress, knocking on the door and flinching as he heard her shout for him to come in.
    ‘His Lordship is changing behind the screen,’ said Lady Lansdown. ‘And he wants to know why you slept out with the horses again.' She sat at an ornate desk and powdered her nose in a hand mirror with sweeping strokes.
    ‘Sorry, it was so late I thought I’d wake the men by coming in. I’ve brought you your breakfast,’ he said simply, placing the tray down on the side table. ‘And I’ve had an idea that could help with your search, if you feel it would be useful.’
    ‘Well, what is it?’ barked Lord Lansdown from behind the screen. ‘And come and help me finish changing, boy.’ George walked behind the curtain and helped Lord Lansdown with the buttons at his throat, taking the greatest care to hook the material carefully. Lady Lansdown looked on enviously, having left her serving woman behind at home. George knew that he would have to dye her hair with the putrid orange powder that she used any day now, and the thought of running his fingers through it made him sick to his stomach.
    ‘My Lord, I ask that I may become a spy in your service,’ he said quietly, his voice faltering at the end. ‘I can fall in with these people so that they tell me secrets you may not know.’ Lord Lansdown stared at him, pulling the tunic even tighter around his neck.
    ‘And why exactly would you do that, hmm? You know we already have spies dotted around looking for it?’
    ‘But I’m different my Lord. You see, what if a spy decided to keep that information with the intention of keeping the stone, or of passing it to somebody else who wanted it?’ He combed Lord Lansdown’s hair and tied it in a smooth knot at the nape. ‘I want to be a spy to the spies so to speak, to make sure that they are doing what they should be. Who else will watch them as they need to be watched?’ George picked up a wooden comb and bega n combing the beard into a peak. ‘I volunteer my Lord, they’ll never suspect. Tell me who and where they are, and I’ll report back any suspicions to you. I humbly ask that I may serve you to help you reach the stone that you desire.’ He delicately cut any stray hairs around the beard, and heard Lady Lansdown screech from the desk.
    ‘But who will tend to his Lordship? W ho will cook for us and do the servants' jobs? It’s out of the question.’
    ‘Not so hasty my love,’ said Lord Lansdown , walking out from behind the screen towards her. ‘We already know of one spy who was also working for Lord Montague, passing on information about us. It will be common knowledge soon enough, perhaps it is not such a bad idea?’
    He sat on the bed and gestured for George to bring over his tray. ‘It’s only for a short time and the men here can perform those errands. He is right Berta, there’s no-one else here that I can trust, and he hardly looks dangerous, does he? What with that loping gait and watery eyes, they’ll tell him everything, I know they will. And he