'Is there the possibility that you are labouring under a spell giving the illusion that nothing is wrong?' asked the imp, his face still a mask of worry.
'Not a chance, my netherworld friend. A potent Compulsion might have persuaded me not to access the spell at all, but the result cannot be perverted by internal magical influences. My will is my own, I'm afraid. For the last time: I'm just happy. Can't you just accept that?'
'I suppose so.' The demon shrugged. 'But it still bothers me.'
'Now, Thribble, if you'd be kind enough as to excuse me, I've got to get ready for breakfast. I'm absolutely ravenous.'
'I couldn't eat another thing.' Harvel groaned as he loosened his belt buckle a couple of notches. 'That was just so good!'
Grimm nodded, stifling a belch. For almost all of his life, he had been at the beck and call of bells, yells and duty. Here, in the spacious, well-lit restaurant at the Mansion House with his friends, he felt utterly at peace.
Rich, mahogany panelling highlighted the plush red carpet, and each table had a tasteful bouquet of flowers in its centre. Grimm admired the gentle twinkling of light in the crystal chandeliers that cast a warm glow on the restaurant, making it seem intimate and relaxing. High Lodge might have been opulent, but it had an austere, formal ambience that spoiled the full effect.
A rich man could happily spend the rest of his days in Mansion House, Grimm thought, and it appeared that the other guests shared this sentiment. Seven other tables were occupied, the groups of people at each ranging from a single man to a group of five men and five women; all of them wore happy smiles, and Grimm heard frequent bursts of laughter from the groups of guests.
He looked at the rest of his companions: Crest; Numal; Guy; Tordun; and Quelgrum. Each bore a similar look of contentment on his face, and Grimm felt an upsurge of fraternal love for his fellow men… or, perhaps, it was just a gastric reminder of the splendid meal he had just eaten.
'It's a shame we'll have to leave here tomorrow,' Crest said, 'just as I was getting used to the high life.'
'Can't be helped,' Grimm replied with a deep sigh. 'We have a job to do.'
'Still, there's always the Pit tonight,' Quelgrum said, his expression eager, almost juvenile. 'If it's anything like last night, we're in for a treat.'
Guy nodded, lounged back in his chair and patted his belly.
'I might even join you tonight,' Numal declared, 'if it's as exciting as you say.'
'It is,' Tordun said with a vehement nod. 'I wouldn't miss it for the world. It'll be almost a shame to go back on the road.'
A long silence ensued as Grimm and his companions stared at their empty plates, their faces long and dolorous.
'It can't be helped,' the young Questor repeated, trying to rouse the faint sense of duty within him. 'We'll have to leave once we've talked to Mr. Chudel. He should, at least, be able to give us some idea of where Lizaveta's Priory is.'
He smiled. 'However, there's nothing to say that we can't enjoy ourselves while we're here!'
A chorus of good-natured cheers answered him, and Grimm vowed to make this stay one to remember. He opened his mouth again, but shut it as he saw a tall, bald-headed man walking towards the table. There was no doubt that the spectacle-covered eyes were fixed on him and his companions.
'Good morning, gentlemen,' said the slender, hook-nosed man. 'I trust you are enjoying your stay at Mansion House?'
'It's a marvellous place,' Grimm said, echoed by his friends.
'Good, good.' The bald man looked as if such news was a genuine pleasure to him, and Grimm warmed to him.
'My name is Keller Shampat; I run the Pit entertainments. Please call me Keller. Do you mind if I join you?'
'There's an open chair right here,' Tordun said. 'I'm sure we're all pleased to meet you, Keller.'
'Thank you, gentlemen.' Keller eased himself into the empty chair with a graceful, cat-like motion, and eyed each man in turn. 'I saw most of you at the Pit last night, and you seemed to enjoy it.'
Harvel nodded, his eyes wide. 'We certainly did, Keller! That was a magnificent spectacle.' The rest of the party nodded in agreement.
'I'm glad to hear it, good sirs. The Pit is a major source of revenue for Mansion House, and we pride ourselves on providing quality sporting entertainment.'
'You need have no fears on that score, Keller,' Tordun said. 'Your fighters are a credit to you. I was particularly impressed by the way some of the losers fought, even after they realised they were going to lose. Dedication, stamina and heart are essential qualities for any pugilist, and those men had them in abundance.'
Keller smiled. 'That's why I wanted to talk to you, sir. You're Tordun, the White Titan of Gallorley, aren't you? I saw you fight about five years ago, and I've never forgotten it. I wondered if you would be prepared to join us?
'You'd find it well worth your while. Have no fear on that score,' the Pit manager said quickly, as Tordun shook his head.
'That's not the issue,' the albino replied. 'I've retired from the ring, and I have no intention of going back to that life. I have all the work I need as a bodyguard and hired warrior, thank you.
'Now I am simply Tordun, at your service.'
Keller sighed. 'A pity, such a pity… The pugilistic world will be the worse for your retirement.'
'Can't be helped.' Tordun's brow furrowed in puzzlement, as if he had said something wrong.
Keller leaned forward, his eyes glittering behind the round, steel-rimmed spectacles. 'An old friend was asking after you, Tordun,' he said in an almost conspiratorial voice. 'His fighting name is Shugar, the Anvil-fisted Avenger. He remembers you very well.'
'I remember him, too, when the weather changes, Keller.' Tordun smiled, massaging his right wrist. 'He fought well last night; his opponent was spirited enough, but quite outclassed.'
'Shugar would love to face you again,' the Pit-man said. 'He says he hasn't had a decent bout since he faced you; how about a single bout, tonight, just for old times' sake?'
Tordun flicked his eyes first at Grimm, then at Quelgrum. 'I'd love to, Keller,' he said.
Keller's expression brightened.
'But I can't. I have a job at the moment, and I can't afford to risk being crippled for the sake of a grudge match. I'm sorry, Keller; I do feel very flattered, but I'll have to refuse your offer, much though I'd love to accept.'
'That's a shame, Tordun.' Keller sighed as if this was the saddest thing he had ever heard. 'Still, I suppose it can't be helped. Is there any reason why you can't come to meet Shugar and the other fighters in the Pit gymnasium this morning? Several of the boys have heard of you, and I'm sure they'd love the chance to meet a living legend.'
Tordun laughed. 'It might be stretching it a little far to call me a 'living legend', Keller, but I'd be happy to chew the fat with your boys for a while. As I said, they're a credit to you.'
'Then that's settled!' Keller clapped his hands in evident pleasure. 'As for tonight… would you gentlemen care to view tonight's Pit action from the best seats in the house, high above the stadium? As friends of Tordun, the White… of Master Tordun, that is, you'd all be honoured guests and be able to watch the fights in comfort. No queuing, no payment expected. It's my treat, gentlemen.'
Grimm's heart leapt at the offer, but he could not ignore a sharp pang of conscience that jabbed his heart. His intention had been to leave Mansion House as soon as he had talked to Mr. Chudel, and he cast an anxious look at Quelgrum.
'What do you think, General? Should we stay another night, or leave today?' Although he took care to keep his tone neutral and serious, as if he felt equally happy with either option, he found himself hoping that Quelgrum would vote for the latter. He did not want to be the one to make this choice.
Quelgrum shrugged. 'What difference will a few hours more make? I vote we stay tonight, and start out fresh
