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

too glad to leave the fireside seat to Big Tom.
    He came to his knees, shaking his head, and looked up to see Rod standing before him in a wrestler's crouch, smiling grimly and beckoning with both arms.
    Tom growled low in his throat and braced a foot against the fieldstones of the hearth.
    He shot at Rod head-first, like a bull.
    Rod sidestepped and stuck out a foot. Big Tom went flailing straight for the first row of tables. Rod squeezed his eyes shut and set his teeth.
    There was a crash like four simultaneous strikes in a bowling alley. Rod winced. He opened his eyes and forced himself to look. Big Tom's head emerged out of a welter of woodwork, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
    Rod shook his head sadly, clucking his tongue. 'You've had a rough night, Big Tom. Why don't you go home and sleep it off?'
    Tom picked himself up, shin, wristbone, and clavicle, and put himself back together, taking inventory the while.
    Satisfied that he was a gestalt again, he stamped a foot, planted his fists on his hips, and looked up at Rod.
    'Here now, man!' he complained. 'You don't half fight like an honest gentleman!'
    'Not hardly a gentleman at all,' Rod agreed. 'What do you say we try one more throw, Tom? Double or nothing!'
    The big man looked down at his body as if doubting its durability. He kicked at the remains of an oak table tentatively, slammed a fist into his own tree-trunk biceps, and nodded.
    'I'll allow as I'm fit,' he said. 'Come on, little man.'
    He stepped out onto the cleared floor in front of the hearth, walking warily around the perimeter, keeping one baleful eye on Rod.
    'Our good landlord told you I had silver in my purse, didn't he?' said Rod, his eyes snapping.
    Big Tom didn't answer.
    'Told you I was an easy mark, too.' Rod mused. 'Well, he was wrong on both counts.'
    Big Tom's eyes bulged. He gave a bellow of distress. 'No silver?'
    Rod nodded. 'I thought he told you.' His eyes flicked over to the landlord, ashen and trembling by a pillar.
    And looked back to see Big Tom's foot heading right toward his midriff. Rod fell back, swinging both hands up to catch Big Tom's heel and inspire it to greater heights.
    Tom's foot described a neat arc. For a moment, he hung in the air, arms flailing; then he crashed howling to the floor.
    Rod's eyes filled with pain as Big Tom floundered about, struggling for the breath that the floor had knocked out of him. Rod stepped in, grabbed the front of Tom's tunic, braced his foot against Tom's and threw his weight back, hauling the big man to his feet. Tom immediately sagged forward; Rod shoved a shoulder under Tom's armpit and pushed the big man back to the vertical.
    'Ho, landlord!' he shouted. 'Brandy - and fast!
    Rod liked to think of himself as the kind of man people could lean on, but this was ridiculous.
    When Big Tom had been somewhat revived and commended to the gentle jeers of his booze buddies, and the guests had somewhat restored the room and resumed their places, and Rod had still not wreaked anything resembling vengeance on the landlord, that worthy's eyes sparked with a sudden hope. He appeared again before Rod, his chin thrust out and the corners of his mouth drawn down.
    Rod hauled himself out of the depth of a rather cynical contemplation of man's innate goodness and focused on the landlord. 'Well, what do you want?'
    The landlord swallowed thickly. 'If it please your worship there's a little matter of some broken chairs and tables....'
    'Chairs,' said Rod, not moving. 'Tables.'
    He slammed to his feet and coiled a hand around the innkeeper's neck.
    'Why, you slimy little curmudgeon! You set that ox on me, you try to rob me, and you have the gall to stand there and tell me I owe you money?' He emphasized each point with a shake of the landlord's neck, slowly pushing him back against the pillar. The landlord made a masterful attempt to blend into the bark, but only succeeded in spreading himself thin.
    'And to top it all off, my ale's gotten warm!' Rod shouted. 'You call