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side. He could have been listening, or just standing watch.
 Med, said Lothar with a game smile.  His Majesty& 
 His Majesty will understand perfectly, said Medivh, breezing right past the
larger man.  That I would rather meet with a rampaging demon than the leader
of a nation. Priorities and all that. In the mean time will you look after my
apprentice?
He said it all in a single breath, and then he was gone, out into the hall and
down the stairs, leaving
Lothar in mid-sentence.
The old warrior rubbed a great hand up over his balding pate, letting out an
exaggerated sigh. Then he looked at Khadgar and let out another, deeper sigh.
 He s always been like this, you know, said Lothar, as if Khadgar truly did
know.  I suppose you re hungry, at least. Let s see if we can find some
lunch.
Lunch consisted of a cold game fowl looted from the cold room and tucked under
Lothar s arm, and two mugs of ale the size of ewers, one in each meaty hand.
The King s Champion was surprisingly at ease, despite the situation, and
guided Khadgar out to a high balcony overlooking the city.
 My lord, said Khadgar.  Despite the Magus s request, I realize you have
other work.
 Aye, said Lothar,  and most of it was taken care of while you were talking
to Medivh. His majesty
King Llane is in his quarters, as are most of the courtiers, under guard, in
case that demon decided to hide in the castle. Also I have agents already
spreading through the city, with orders to both report
anything suspicious but not to make themselves suspicious. The last thing we
need is a demon-panic. I ve cast all my lines, and now there is nothing to do
but wait. He looked at the younger man.  And my lieutenants know that I ll be
on this balcony, as I always have a late lunch anyway.
Khadgar considered Lothar s words, and thought that the King s Champion was
very much like
Medivh not only planning ahead a few moves, but delighting in telling others
how he s planned things out. The apprentice picked at the sliced breast meat
while Lothar tore into a drumstick.
The pair ate in silence for a long time. The fowl was anything but foul, for
it was treated with a concoction of rosemary, bacon, and sheep s butter placed
beneath the skin before roasting. Even cold it fell apart in the mouth. The
ale for its part was pungent, rich with bottomland hops.
Beneath them the city unfolded. The citadel itself was atop a rocky
outcropping that already separated the King from his subjects, and from the
tower s additional height, the citizens of Stormwind looked like naught but
small dolls busying themselves along crowded streets. Some sort of market day
was playing out beneath them, brightly-tarped storefronts occupied with
vendors bellowing (very quietly, it seemed to
Khadgar at this altitude) the virtues of their wares.
For a moment Khadgar forgot where he was, and what he had seen, and why he was
there in the first place. It was a beautiful city. Only Lothar s deep grumble
brought him back to this world.
 So, said the King s Champion in his way of introspection.  How is he?
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Khadgar thought for a moment, and replied,  He is in good health. You have
seen that yourself, milord.
 Bah, spat Lothar, and for a moment Khadgar thought the knight was choking on
a large piece of meat.
 I can see, and I know Med can dance and bluff his way past just about anyone.
What I mean to say is, Howis he?
Khadgar looked out at the city again, wondering if he had Medivh s talent to
bluster his way past the older man, to deny answers without causing affront.
No, he decided, Medivh played on loyalties and friendships older than he was.
He had to find another way to respond. He let out a sigh and said,  Demanding.
He s very demanding. And intelligent. And surprising. I feel I have
apprenticed myself to a whirlwind, sometimes. He looked at Lothar, his
eyebrows raised, hoping that this would be sufficient.
Lothar nodded,  A whirlwind, aye. And a thunderstorm, too, I suspect.
Khadgar shrugged awkwardly.  He has his moods, like anyone.
 Hmmpph, said the King s Champion.  An ostler has a mood and he kicks the
dog. A mage has his moods and a town disappears. No offense meant. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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