Read Online A Coven of Vampires by Brian Lumley - Free Book Online Page A

more—have died for this little lot. And so—” And he tossed the jewelled hilt back with the other gems.
    “Actually,” Tarra chewed his lip, eyed the swords and crossbows of Fregg’s bodyguards, “actually it’s the hilt I treasure more than the stones. Before it was broken there were times that sword saved my miserable life!”
    “Ah!” said Fregg. “It has sentimental value, has it? Why didn’t you say so? You shall have it back, of course! Only come to me tonight, in my counting room atop the tower, and after I’ve prised out the stones, then the broken blade is yours. It seems the least I can do. And my thanks, for in your way you’ve already answered a riddle I’d have asked of you.”
    “Oh?” Tarra raised an eyebrow.
    “Indeed. For if you were rightful owner of this hoard in the first place, why surely you’d agonize more over the bulk of the stuff than the mere stump of a sword, not so?”
    Tarra shrugged, grinned, winked, and tapped the side of his nose with forefinger. “No wonder you’re king here, Fregg. Aye, and again you’ve gauged your man aright, I fear.”
    Fregg roared with laughter. “Good, good!” he chortled. “Very good. So you’re a reaver, too, eh? Well, and what’s a reaver if not an adventurer, which is what you said you were? You took this lot from a caravan, I suppose? No mean feat for a lone wanderer, even a brave and brawny Hrossak.”
    “You flatter me,” Tarra protested, and lied: “No, there were ten of us. The men of the caravan fought hard and died well, and I was left with treasure.”
    “Well then,” said Fregg. “In that case you’ll not take it so badly. It seems you’re better off to the extent of one camel. As for the treasure: it was someone else’s, became yours, and now has become mine—er, Chlangi’s.”
    Tarra sucked his teeth. “So it would seem,” he said.
    “Aye,” Fregg nodded. “So count your blessings and go on your way. Chlangi welcomes you if you choose to stay, will not detain you should you decide to move on. The choice is yours.”
    “Your hospitality overwhelms me,” said Tarra. “If I had the change I’d celebrate our meeting with a meal and a drink.”
    “Pauper, are you?” said Fregg, seeming surprised. And: “What, penniless, an enterprising lad like you? Anyway, I’d warn you off Chlangi’s taverns. Me, I kill my own meat and brew my own wine! But if you’re desperately short you can always sell your blanket. Your camel will keep you warm nights….” And off he strode, laughing.
    Which seemed to be an end to that.
    Almost….
    • • •
    Tarra was one of the last to pass out through the courtyard’s gates, which were closed at once on his heels. On his way he’d given the place a narrow-eyed once-over, especially the tumbledown main building and its central tower. So that standing there outside the iron-banded gates, staring up thoughtfully at the high walls, he was startled when a voice barked in his ear: 
    “Hrossak, I overheard your conversation with Fregg. Quickly now, tell me, d’you want a meal and a wineskin? And then maybe a safe place to rest your head until tonight? For if you’re thinking of leaving, it would be sheerest folly to try it in broad daylight, despite what Fregg says!”
    The speaker was a tiny man, old and gnarly, with an eye-patch over his left eye and a stump for right hand. The latter told a tale in itself: he was a failed thief, probably turned con man. But…. Tarra shrugged. “Any port in a storm,” he said. “Lead on.”
    And when they were away from Fregg’s sorry palace and into the old streets of the city proper: “Now what’s all this about not leaving in daylight? I came in daylight, after all.”
    “I’m Stumpy Adz,” the old-timer told him. “And if it’s to be known, Stumpy knows it. Odds are you’re watched even now. You’re a defenceless stranger and you own blanket, saddle, camel and gear, and leather scabbard. That’s quite a bit of property for