himself in her deep, blue eyes until interrupted by a sharp rap at the chamber door.
'I won't be a moment, Drex,' he whispered into her ear. 'It's probably just some Council official after the latest grain production figures.'
Extricating himself from Drex's entwining arms with great reluctance, he opened the door. A towering grey- green apparition stood before him, exposing a mouthful of fangs like carving knives, and a wide-eyed Drexelica gasped.
'It's all right, Drex, it's just my good friend and Seneschal, Shakkar,' Grimm called over his shoulder, turning back to the mighty demon and extending his hand. 'Shakkar, my friend, it's good to be able to spend a little time with you at last.'
The demon reached out to grasp the human's right wrist. Grimm tried to copy his friend, but his hand barely reached half-way around the oversized, muscular limb.
'I feel the same, Lord Baron.' The demon's basso profundis rumble shook the room. 'It has been a long time since we were last able to talk in such an intimate manner.'
Since Grimm's return to Crar with General Quelgrum's technology-using army in tow, Shakkar had spent much of his time in acquainting the General's soldiers with the ways and customs of Crar, in an attempt to integrate fifteen-hundred armed men into the populace. Grimm had also had to endure many a lengthy, tedious meeting with the city council, so he felt more than happy to be able to devote a little time to his gigantic friend at last.
'Too long, Shakkar,' Grimm agreed. 'I never knew that so much of the time of a Baron was taken up with adjudicating grazing rights, settling disputes and appointing minor dignitaries. Still, I guess you're only too familiar with that.'
'Greetings, Shakkar,' a familiar voice piped from a pocket in Grimm's robes, and the tiny head of the ever- present Thribble popped into view. As ever, the Questor had all but forgotten that the resourceful, six-inch tall demon was there: the minuscule creature might be an invaluable companion, but he seemed somehow easy to overlook or forget.
'Greetings, Thribble,' the titan boomed. 'It is good to see you again.'
Shakkar fixed his eyes on Drexelica, who still sat on the divan. Her expression was nervous in the extreme.
'Grimm, will you not introduce me to this lovely, toothsome piece of mortal flesh?' The demon bared his fearsome array of dental weaponry once more, and Drex shrank back from the dread apparition.
Grimm suppressed a chuckle. 'Drexelica, this is my good friend, Shakkar. Don't worry; he won't eat you, for all his terrifying aspect and his occasional lack of tact.' He shot a hard look at the demon, who appeared unaffected even by the commanding gaze of a Guild Questor. 'Shakkar, this is Drexelica, who will be keeping house for me.'
Since sensual relations between mages and women were regarded within the Guild as unseemly, Grimm and Drex had agreed that the fewer people who were aware of their true relationship, the better. The Questor had implicit trust in his titanic ally, but he knew that Shakkar was, on occasion, a little clumsy in his speech. Of course, the ubiquitous Thribble knew that the two young humans were in love, but the minuscule demon, teller of sagas to his more powerful underworld kin, was well aware of the value of discretion in the information he revealed.
The girl held out her right hand, and Shakkar bent at the waist as if it were a hinge, touching his closed mouth to the proffered extremity in a lipless but gentle parody of a kiss. Drex laughed as the frightening apparition performed his solemn obeisance, and the demon jerked upright.
'Was my act somehow amusing to you, young female?' Shakkar demanded.
'I was just glad to see that a person with such big claws and teeth was also a real gentleman,' Drex replied, and the demon snorted.
Grimm suspected that, if Shakkar were capable of blushing, his grey-green face would have been blazing cherry-red, and the mage could feel Thribble shaking in his robe pocket, as if the imp were seized by a fit of silent laughter. Shakkar's discomfiture notwithstanding, the ice seemed to have broken.
For the next two hours, Grimm and Shakkar discussed civic matters: the growing trade links that Crar had formed with surrounding towns since it had been liberated from the baleful dictatorship of Starmor; the disbursement of city funds; and the refurbishment of important buildings. If Drex found the discussion tedious, she hid it well, but she breathed a sigh of relief when Shakkar made his excuses and left.
'I doubt you'll ever find life with a Guild Questor normal, Drex,' Grimm said with a smile. 'If you wanted a quiet life in some peaceful backwater, with climbing roses up the walls and cows in the field, I'm afraid you've made the wrong choice of partner.'
Drexelica laughed. 'I'm not sorry at all, Grimm. I want only to be with you, no matter what happens. I know you won't be able to be at my side all the time, or even a lot of the time, but I'll try not to let it get me down.'
'I have a duty to the Guild, and to my family name,' Grimm said with a sigh. 'I've made a public vow to uphold the values of the Guild, and a private one to redeem the name of Afelnor in its eyes. I can't just throw that aside, even for you, Drex. I wish I could, but I can't. I have my family's reputation to restore.'
'I know, Grimm, and I surely respect you for it. For all the rotten life I had, I've never had to shoulder a bad family name, too. Is that why you call your staff 'Redeemer'?'
Grimm nodded. 'My granfer, Loras Afelnor, is reviled as a traitor and a renegade, just because he took pity on a sick old man. He's tortured by the memory, and he so wants me to wash the blemish from our name. It's a heavy burden, but not one I can easily deny.'
Drex took his hands in hers. 'You don't really believe your Granfer tried to kill the old Prelate, do you, Grimm?'
Grimm shrugged. 'He did try to kill Geral, Drex; I can't deny it, even to myself. I've met Granfer only once since I became a Guild Mage, but I saw the guilt and pain in his aura clearly enough. I didn't say anything about it to him, but I've seen his confession in the Guild records. Yes, he tried to kill the Prelate, surely enough… even so, something seems wrong about the whole thing.'
Drex's brows arched. 'D'you think his confession was forced out of him, then?'
The Questor shook his head. 'I think Granfer's confession was true, as far as he knew. He was caught in the act by his best friend, who is now Lord Thorn, and he never even tried to deny the act.
'It's not what he did, Drex, but how he did it. Pushing a pillow over an old man's face… it's just so bloody physical. Granfer Loras was a Mage Questor of the Seventh Rank, an avatar of destruction, a Weapon of the Guild. There must have been a hundred ways he could have snuffed out Prelate Geral's life from a distance if he wanted to. It wouldn't have needed anything like as much power as it would to kill a younger mage. Geral was a tired old man, and he was dying.'
The girl frowned. 'But, Grimm, you just said you believed he did it. Now you're saying you don't. I don't understand. If he tried to snuff the old man, what difference does it make how he did it? Perhaps he was acting… in the heat of the moment, or something. Men don't always think things through too clearly, do they?'
Grimm laughed, although he saw little humour in the situation.
'A Guild Mage isn't like ordinary men, and a Mage Questor is even less so. You don't get to be a forty-year-old Questor of the Seventh Rank by acting on impulse,' he said. 'It's something I'm often guilty of, but I'm trying as hard as I can to eradicate it. I'll have to if I want to make old bones. Otherwise, sooner or later, some stupid mistake'll catch me out, and it could be fatal.
'Granfer Loras was an old hand, and he'd been on dozens of difficult and dangerous Quests. You can be sure he never acted just on the spur of the moment. And with an infinite number of spells potentially at his command- invisible, undetectable spells-you can bet he'd never have chosen to push a pillow in the old man's face. Not unless he wanted to be caught, and I don't believe that.
'The only other explanation I can think of is that someone-a single mage with unbelievable magical power, or a group of mages acting in concert-ensorcelled him into doing what he did.' Grimm hissed through his teeth in an attempt to dispel the tension within him. 'Everyone in the House expected Granfer to succeed Geral as Prelate. From what I heard, he wouldn't have had to wait long. He didn't need to take the risk of assassinating the old man just to get him out of the way… and even if his motivation was pure mercy, why did he choose such a blatant, obvious method? Geral couldn't have put up any resistance; Granfer could have stopped his weak heart in a second with a quick, merciful spell, instead of trying to smother him. He wouldn't even have had to leave his room.
'It doesn't ring right, Drex. It doesn't make any sense at all.'
Drexelica leaned forward, cupping her chin with her right hand as if considering what to say next.
