Вилорп

→Tanrose emerges from the kitchens clutching a pot of stew. She's accompanied by Elsior, the apprentice cook, who's learning the trade.

→"I had to go a week without beer. It was hell."

→Even though it's generally believed that once you've had the winter malady you won't catch it again, the memory of lying in bed, burning up inside, panting for breath, every bone and muscle in my body racked with pain, makes me unwilling to take any risks. Must have been fifteen years or more since I had it, but I haven't forgotten.

→"You've had the malady," replies Gurd.

→"Why me?"

→Gurd asks me if I'd mind taking a plate of food upstairs for them. I eye him suspiciously.

→"They'll close the tavern. First thing I learned about keeping a tavern, don't let the authorities close you down."

→I'm sitting in front of the fire, musing on Tanrose's tale. There's probably nothing in it other than the confused ramblings of an old woman, but I'm willing to check it out. For one thing, I like Tanrose, and for another I'm greatly in need of money. I need at least 500 gurans to sit down at the card table with Glixius. If I unearth a chest containing 14,000 gurans I'm bound to earn at least that. Possibly more, depending on how grateful Tanrose's mother turns out to be. My thoughts are interrupted by Gurd. Kaby is still sick. Worse, Palax has now come down with the malady. They're both shivering in the guest room. Gurd is still unwilling to notify the authorities.

→Chapter Five

→"Well that's unfortunate. Thraxas the Investigator does not reveal details of private consultations with his clients. Now move out the way, I'm needed downstairs for beer and a roaring fire."

→"But I want to know what it was."

→Makri frowns.

→"Private."

→"What was it?"

→"A private business affair."

→"What did Tanrose want?"

→I agree to visit Tanrose's mother tomorrow. Tanrose hurries off downstairs, to cook. As she leaves, Makri walks into my office.

→"Perhaps. I'll have to talk to her first."

→I extinguish the stub of my thazis stick.

→"Not so bad really for a woman of eighty. Do you think it might be true?"