Read The House of the Wolf for Free Online

civilised veneer of this great house, a veneer which covered the cracks in the façade of this huge and largely backward country.
    The majordomo smiled again, this time without exposing his deformity, and pointed with a gentle gesture toward a door in the far corner of the gracious room. Then he went out the same way he had come in, leaving the professor to his sombre thoughts. He wondered whether the man had been involved in some bizarre accident; it did not seem likely that he had been the subject of a surgical operation. It was improbable that things were so advanced in this remote corner of Europe.
    There remained two other possibilities – that the man was the victim of some congenital deformity that had been with him since birth. Or was there something even more sinister, a practice that might have persisted since the days of the Wallachian tyrants who had ruled this blood-soaked land? That the man’s tongue had been literally torn from his mouth to render him mute and prevent him from speaking about his betters’ affairs? Coleridge’s expression was grim as he raised the goblet of wine to his lips. As he had expected, it was excellent.
    He was still sitting there in the mellow firelight sipping the dry and subtle vintage when he became aware that the far door was open. A tall, thin man with a shock of white hair stood there regarding him with a sardonic expression.

CHAPTER 5: THE HOST
    ‘Professor Coleridge, I presume?’
    There was warmth and humour on the face now as Count Homolky turned, closing the door behind him and coming across the room with extended hand.
    ‘I expected a very much older man.’
    Coleridge had corresponded with his host for years on the specialised subjects which so absorbed them, but the two men had never met until now and the professor’s initial reaction was one of disappointment as he rose hastily from his chair and went to meet the tall man who spoke such impeccable English with the very faintest trace of an accent.
    ‘I hope you are not disappointed, sir?’
    Homolky shook his head, clasping the younger man’s hand in a warm, dry grip. He wore evening clothes as though he had just risen from table, and now that they were closer Coleridge could see that his face, though one of great distinction, was much ravaged. There was, it was true, a certain hard-bitten quality about it as though he spent much of his time out of doors in icy weather, but there was also something beyond that; some secret sorrow which lurked in the corners of his eyes and eroded him from within so that Coleridge almost felt he could see the living bone beneath the tightly stretched flesh.
    ‘I fear my tardy arrival has kept you from your bed.’
    Homolky shook his head.
    ‘Not at all. My family and I keep late hours here.’
    He smiled thinly, revealing perfectly kept, even teeth, which came to sharp points.
    ‘My house is yours, but I gather you would not require any further refreshment tonight. I trust The Golden Crown lived up to its reputation?’
    Coleridge smiled also.
    ‘I could not eat another thing, sir. I hope I may repay your generosity there at some future time.’
    Homolky shifted uneasily, his head on one side as though listening for something in the far corridors of the vast Castle.
    ‘Perhaps, Professor, perhaps.’
    He rubbed his hands together and became brisk, as if remembering his duties as host.
    ‘You will be reunited with your six colleagues in the morning. They ask to be excused and have already retired.’
    Coleridge glanced over at the big clock in the corner which, as though prompted by his look, commenced to chime the hour of midnight.
    ‘You had a good journey, I trust?’
    The professor shrugged, dropping back into his chair at the Count’s insistence. His host went to stand in front of the fire, twisting his thin hands behind his back as he spread them to the blaze.
    ‘A trifle uncomfortable at this time of the year.’
    Coleridge hesitated, then plunged on. After all,