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

no longer give each their justice, by style and taste.'
    'The nobles will not bear it, and that thou knowest. The judges will not stand long.' One-Ear's face was grim; he traced circles on the wet tabletop.
    'Nay, the noblemen will stand for naught that the Queen designs!' Adam plunged his knife into the tabletop. 'Will not the Loguire see that?'
    'Nay, speak not against the Loguire!' One-Ear's face darkened. 'If
    'twere not for him, we would still be a ragtag horde, with no common purpose! Speak not against Loguire, Adam, for without him, we would not have the brass to sit in this inn, where the Queen's soldiers are but guests!'
    'Oh, aye, aye, he pulled us together and made men of us thieves. Yet now he holds our new manhood in check; he seeks to keep us from fighting for that which is ours!'
    One-Ear's mouth turned down tight at the corners. 'Thou hast hearkened too much to the idle and envious chatter of the Mocker, Adam!'
    'Yet fight we must, mark my words!' Adam cried, clenching his fist.
    'Blood must be shed ere we come to our own. Blood must answer for blood, and 'tis blood the nobles have ta'en from-'
    Something huge slammed into Rod, knocking him back against the table, filling his head with the smell of sweat and onions and cheap wine. Rod braced an arm against the table and shoved with his shoulder. The heavy form swayed away with a whuff! of breath. Rod drew his dagger and thumbed the signet ring to off.
    The man loomed over him, looking eight feet tall and wide as a wagon.
    'Here now!' he growled. 'Why doncha look where I'm going at?'
    Rod's knife twisted, gleaming light into the man's eyes. 'Stand away, friend,' he said softly. 'Leave an honest man to his ale.'
    'An honest man, is it!' The big peasant guffawed. 'A sojer, callin'
    hisself an honest man!' His roaring laughter was echoed from the tables. On an off bet, Rod decided, strangers weren't popular here. The laughter stopped quite suddenly. 'Nay, put down your plaything,' said the big man, suddenly sober, 'and I'll show you an honest villager can outfight a sojer.'
    A prickle ran down Rod's spine as be realized it was a put-up job. The landlord had advised the big ox of the whereabouts of a heavy purse....
    'I've no quarrel with you,' Rod muttered. He realized it was the worst thing he could have said almost before the words were off his tongue. The big man leered, gloating. 'No quarrel, he says now. He throws hisself in the path of a poor staggering man so's he can't help but ran into him. But, "No quarrel," sez he, when he's had a look at Big Tom!'
    A huge, meaty hand buried itself in the cloth at Rod's throat, pulling him to his feet. 'Nay, I'll show you a quarrel,' Big Tom snarled. Rod's right hand lashed out, chopping into the man's elbow, then bouncing away. The big man's hand loosened and fell, temporarily numbed. Big Tom stared at his hand, a look of betrayal. Rod pressed his lips together, tucked his knife into the sheath. He stepped back, knees flexed, rubbed his right fist in his left palm. The peasant was big, but he probably knew nothing of boxing. Life came back into Tom's hand, and with it, pain. The huge man bellowed in anger, his hand balling into a fist, swinging at Rod in a vast roundhouse swipe that would have annihilated anything it struck. But Rod ducked under and to the side and, as the fist went by him, reached up behind Tom's shoulder and gave a solid push to add to the momentum of the swing.
    Big Tom spun around; Rod caught the man's right wrist and twisted it up behind Tom's back. Rod jerked the wrist up a little higher; Big Tom howled. While he was howling, Rod's arm snaked under Tom's armpit to catch the back of his neck in a half nelson.
    Not bad, Rod thought. So far he hadn't needed boxing. Rod planted a knee in Tom's backside as he released his holds; Tom blundered into the open space before the hearth, tried to catch his balance, and didn't make it. Overturned tables clattered and thudded as the patrons scuttled back, all