Мор - ученик смерти

           I’vegottwoshirts.’Thelandlordtriedtodrawhimselfupalittle.’I’mamanofmeans,’headded.’Ijustdidn’twearittoday.’Hedidn’twanttoknowhowMortknewaboutthebuttons.

           Mortlethimgoandspunround.

           ’They’reallsittingindifferentplaces!Where’sthemanwhowassittingbythefire?It’sallchanged!’

           Heranoutthroughthedoorandtherewasamuffledcryfromoutside.Hedashedback,wild-eyed,andconfrontedthehorrifiedcrowd.

           ’Whochangedthesign?Someonechangedthesign!’

           Thelandlordnervouslyranhistongueacrosshislips.

           ’Aftertheoldkingdied,youmean?’hesaid.

           Mort’slookchilledhim,theboy’seyesweretwoblackpoolsofterror.

           ’It’sthenameImean!’

           ’We’ve–it’salwaysbeenthesamename,’saidtheman,lookingdesperatelyathiscustomersforsupport.’Isn’tthatso,lads?TheDuke’sHead.’

           Therewasamurmuredchorusofagreement.

           Mortstaredateveryone,visiblyshaking.Thenheturnedandranoutsideagain.

           Thelistenersheardhoofbeatsintheyard,whichgrewfainterandthendisappearedentirely,justasthoughahorsehadleftthefaceoftheearth.

           Therewasnosoundinsidetheinn.Mentriedtoavoidoneanother’sgaze.No-onewantedtobethefirsttoadmittoseeingwhathethoughthehadjustseen.

           Soitwaslefttothelandlordtowalkunsteadilyacrosstheroomandreachoutandrunhisfingersacrossthefamiliar,reassuringwoodensurfaceofthedoor.Itwassolid,unbroken,everythingadoorshouldbe.