"John Dechancie - Castle 07 - Castle Spellbound" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dechancie John)

"I swear I walked past this ready room just after breakfast and saw the two of you fiddling with
pasteboard, just as now."
"Sir, couldn't have been us," Thorsby suggested.
"I suppose not. My mistake."
Stroking his gray beard, Grosmond sidestepped to Fetchen. "Am I again mistaken or did I see a
report about flies in the Queen's Dining Hall on this morning's task sheet?"
"You did, sir."
"And did you, Master Fetchen, as Pest-Remover-onWatch, go to the Queen's Dining Hall and
find flies?"
"Yes, sir. Swarms of them. How they got there is anyone's guess."
"I could venture one. They came through a nearby outdoor portal, caught the scent of food, and
went directly thence. Sound plausible to you?"
"Rather plausible at that, sir."
"So let me ask you this, Master Fetchen. Why are there still swarms of flies-nay, a blizzard of
them, buzzing madly about-in the Queen's Dining Hall?"
"Sir, they didn't respond to the usual fly-shooing spell."
"Oh, they didn't?"
"No, sir. These appear not to be your ordinary run of fly.
"Not your ordinary run of fly. I see, I see. And when the fly-shooing enchantment didn't work,
what did you do?"
"Well, nothing for the moment, Spellmaster, except to seek out Journeyman Quesnor and solicit
advice."
"And what advice did Journeyman Quesnor have for you?"
"None, sir. I couldn't find him."
"And?"
"'And,' sir? Well, I didn't quite know what to do then, sir."
"Oh, you didn't?"
"Uh . . . no, sir."
"I see. So you did nothing, and the king's Guests had no breakfast this morning."
"Well, there was nothing I could have done about it, sir."
"Nothing. And here you sit, playing gin."
"Uh . . . well, sir. You see, it's like this-"
"Shut that jabbering hole of yours!"
"Yes, sir."
Grosmond continued pacing, his long black robes sweeping the crumb-littered floor.
"This place is a sty," he grumbled. "Did it ever occur to any one of you apprentices to take a
whisk broom-? Ah, never mind."
He whirled on the two of them:
"Mark my words. I've had my eye on the twain of you. You're alike, two peas in a pod. Whenever
trouble arises, somehow you two turn up at the bottom of it."
Thorsby said, "Sir, you really oughtn't-"
"Silence!"
Grosmond folded his arms and tapped his right toe. "I've had enough of your lollygagging and a
bellyful of your endlessly inventive excuses. You two will either shape up or be sacked from the
apprentice program."
Fetchen piped, "You may rest assured we'll do the former, sir!"
"Oh, may I? I'm not at all sure. Well, we'll see. Meanwhile, I'm taking you off regular day shift
and putting you on special detail."
Thorsby ventured, "May I ask, Spellmaster, what special detail?"
"You may. Recently an ancient storage room was discovered in the cellar of the King's Tower.