The Warlock in Spite of Himself - Warlock 01 Read Online Free PDF

has often been termed common sense.'
    Rod threw him a sour smile. 'And, of course, an appreciation for that quality called irony, since it's basically logical. And irony implies-'
    '-a sense of humor, yes. And you must admit, Rod, that there is something innately humorous in a man's chasing an object of his own invention over half a galaxy.'
    'Oh yeah, it's a million yuks, sure. But isn't that the difference between a man and a robot, Fess?'
    'What? The ability to form imaginary constructions?'
    'No, the ability to get hung up on them. Well, let's see if we can't find you a quiet stall where you can chew your data in peace.'
    Fess turned and trotted through the inn-yard gate. A hostler came running from the stables as Rod dismounted. Rod tossed him the reins, said, 'Don't give him too much water,' and strolled into the big common room.
    Rod hadn't known that rooms could be smoky without tobacco. Obviously, chimney-building was numbered among the underdeveloped sciences on this planet.
    The customers didn't seem to mind, though. The room was filled with laughter, coarse jokes, and coarser voices in loud conversation. The great room was taken up by twenty or so large, round tables; there were several smaller tables, occupied by people whose dress marked them above the common (but not high enough to be staying at the castle). Lighting consisted of pine torches, which added to the atmosphere; tallow candles, dripping nicely on the guests; and a huge fireplace, fit to roast an ox, which was exactly what it was doing at the moment. A small horde of boys and stocky peasant girls kept a steady stream of food and drink passing between the tables and the kitchen; many of them displayed considerable skill at broken-field running. A large balding man with an apron tied around his ample middle burst out of the kitchen with a great smoking platter - the landlord, at a guess. Business was good tonight.
    The man looked up, saw Rod, took in the gold and scarlet doublet, sword and dagger, the general air of authority, the well-filled purse - most especially the purse - and shoved the platter at the nearest serving girl. He bustled up to Rod, rubbing his hands on his apron.
    'And how may I serve you, good master?'
    'With a tankard of ale, a steak as thick as both your thumbs, and a table alone.' Rod smiled as he said it.
    The innkeeper stared, his lips forming a round 0 - Rod had apparently done something out of the ordinary.
    Then the old man's eyes took on a calculating look, one that Rod had seen before; it was usually accompanied by a remark to the waiter, sotto voce, 'Soft touch. Soak him for all he's worth.'
    Rod had smiled.
    He should have known better.
    Some things can be undone, though. Rod let his smile droop into a scowl.
    'Well, what are you waiting for?' he barked. 'Be quick about it, or I'll dine on a slice off your backside!'
    The landlord jumped, then cringed, bowing rapidly. 'But of course, m'lord, of course! Quickly it will be, good master; yes, quickly indeed!' He turned away.
    Rod's hand clamped onto his shoulder. 'The table,' he reminded. The landlord gulped and bobbed his head, led Rod to a table beside an upright log that served as a pillar, and scurried away - cursing under his breath, no doubt.
    Rod returned the courtesy, but enlarged the object to include all that the landlord stood for, namely the mercenary ways of mankind. And, of course, wound up cursing himself for having catered to Mammon by getting tough.
    But what could he do? SCENT agents were supposed to remain inconspicuous, and a softhearted medieval bourgeois was a contradiction in terms.
    But when the landlord said quickly, he meant it. The steak and ale appeared almost before Rod had sat down. The landlord stood by rubbing his hands on his apron and looking very worried. Waiting for Rod to accept the cooking, probably.
    Rod opened his mouth to reassure the man, and stopped with a word not quite past his larynx. His nose twitched; a slow grin spread over