Мор - ученик смерти

           TAKETHESETHINGS,NOW,saidDeath,fingeringapassingcanape.IMEAN,MUSHROOMSYES,CHICKENYES,CREAMYES,I’VENOTHINGAGAINSTANYOFTHEM,BUTWHYINTHENAMEOFSANITYMINCETHEMALLUPANDPUTTHEMINLITTLEPASTRYCASES?

           ’Pardon?’saidMort.

           THAT’SMORTALSFORYOU,Deathcontinued.THEY’VEONLYGOTAFEWYEARSINTHISWORLDANDTHEYSPENDTHEMALLINMAKINGTHINGSCOMPLICATEDFORTHEMSELVES.FASCINATING.HAVEAGHERKIN.

           ’Where’stheking?’saidMort,craningtolookovertheheadsofthecourt.

           CHAPWITHTHEGOLDENBEARD,saidDeath.Hetappedaflunkyontheshoulder,andasthemanturnedandlookedaroundinpuzzlementdeftlypilotedanotherdrinkfromhistray.

           Mortcastarounduntilhesawthefigurestandinginalittlegroupinthecentreofthecrowd,leaningoverslightlythebettertohearwhatarathershortcourtierwassayingtohim.Hewasatall,heavily-builtmanwiththekindofstolid,patientfacethatonewouldconfidentlybuyausedhorsefrom.

           ’Hedoesn’tlookabadking,’saidMort.’Whywouldanyonewanttokillhim?’

           SEETHEMANNEXTTOHIM?WITHTHELITTLEMOUSTACHEANDTHEGRINLIKEALIZARD?Deathointedwithhisscythe.’Yes?’HISCOUSIN,THEDUKEOFSTOHELIT.NOTTHENICESTOFPEOPLE,saidDeath.AHANDYMANWITHABOTTLEOFPOISON.FIFTHINLINETOTHETHRONELASTYEAR,NOWSECONDINLINE.BITOFASOCIALCLIMBER,YOUMIGHTSAY.