[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Burning tears stung his eyes, tears of grief and bitter sorrow, yet tears of
relief as well. Haplo was dead, yes. But he was dead! No terrible magical life
burned inside him, like a candle inside a skull. His body lay composed on the
bier. His eyes were closed, his face smooth, free of pain.
"He's at peace now," Alfred murmured.
He entered the cell slowly, came to stand beside his enemy, his friend.
Marit had replaced the flaccid hand on Haplo's chest, over the heart-rune. Now
she sat hunched on the floor, grieving alone in fierce, aching silence.
Alfred knew he should say something, pay tribute, homage. But words were
inadequate. What did you say to a man who had looked inside you and seen not
what you were but what you could be? What did you say to a man who had
wrenched that other, better person hiding inside of you outside? What did you
say to a man who had taught you how to live, when you would much rather have
died?
Haplo had done all this. And now Haplo was dead. He gave his life for me, for
the mensch, for his people. Each of us drew on his strength and perhaps,
unknowingly, each of us ended up draining a little of his life away.
"My dear friend," Alfred whispered, his voice choked. He bent down, rested his
hand on Haplo's, over the heart-rune. "I promise you. I will continue the
fight. I will do what I can, take up where you left off. You rest. Don't worry
about it anymore. Farewell, my friend. Fare "
At that moment, Alfred was interrupted by a whuff.
CHAPTER 13
NECROPOLIS ABARRACH
"No, BOY! STAY!"
Haplo's voice was insistent, peremptory. His command was final, the law. Yet .
. .
The dog squirmed, whimpered. Here were trusted friends. Here were people who
could make things right. And, above all else, here were people who were
desperately unhappy. Here were people who needed a dog.
The dog half rose.
"Dog, no!" Haplo's voice, sharp, warning. "Don't! It's a trap . . ."
Well, there, you see? A trap! Here were trusted friends, walking into a trap.
And, obviously, the master was only thinking of his faithful dog's safety.
Which, so far as the dog could determine, left the decision up to it.
With a glad and excited whuff, the dog leapt from its hiding place and bounded
joyfully down the corridor.
"What was that?" Alfred glanced fearfully around. "I heard something . . ."
He looked out into the corridor and saw a dog. Alfred sat down on the floor,
very hard and very unexpectedly.
"Oh, my!" he repeated over and over. "Oh, my!"
The animal bounded into the cell, jumped into Alfred's lap, and licked his
face.
Page 52
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Alfred flung his arms around the dog's neck and wept.
Objecting to being slobbered on, the dog wriggled free of Alfred's embrace and
pattered over to Marit. Very gently, the dog lifted a paw, placed it on her
arm.
She touched the offered paw, then buried her face in the dog's neck and began
to sob. The dog whined in sympathy, looked pleadingly at Alfred.
"Don't cry, my dear! He's alive!" Alfred wiped away his own tears. Kneeling
down beside Marit, he put his hands on her shoulders, forced her to lift her
face, to look at him. "The dog. Haplo's not dead, not yet. Don't you see?"
Marit stared at the Sartan as if he'd gone mad.
"I don't know how!" Alfred was babbling. "I can't understand it myself.
Probably the necromancy spell. Or perhaps Jonathon had something to do with
it. Or maybe all together. Or none at all. Anyhow, my dear, because the dog is
alive, Haplo is alive!"
"I don't . . ." Marit was bewildered.
"Let me see if I can explain."
Completely forgetting where he was, Alfred settled himself on the floor,
prepared to launch into explanations. The dog had other plans, however.
Catching hold of the toe of Alfred's over-large shoe in its mouth, the dog
sank in its teeth and began to tug.
"When Haplo was a young man . . . Good dog," Alfred interrupted himself,
attempted to free his shoe from the dog's mouth. "A young man in the
Labyrinth, he Haplo . . . Nice doggie. Let go. I ... Oh, dear."
The dog had released the shoe, was now tugging at Alfred's coat sleeve.
"The dog wants us to leave," said Marit.
She stood up, somewhat unsteadily. The dog, giving up on Alfred, switched its
attention to her. Pressing its large body against her legs, it tried to herd
her toward the cell door.
"I'm not going anywhere," she said, getting a firm grip on the loose skin
around the dog's neck and hanging on. "I'm not leaving Haplo until I
understand what's happened."
"I'm trying to tell you," Alfred said plaintively. "Only I keep getting
interrupted. It all has to do with Haplo's 'good' impulses pity, compassion,
mercy, love. Haplo was raised to believe that such feelings were weaknesses."
The dog muttered in its throat, nearly knocked Marit down trying again to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]