Spell of Intrigue | Page 3

sides.
The sounds of swishing and slicing died. The Lion moistened the
thumb and forefinger of one hand against his lips and raised them to his
forehead, crossed his eyes, and pinched gingerly in the midst of the
glob of wax coagulating above his eyebrows. He was rewarded by a
quick sizzle that faded off into a gurgling hiss. "You missed one," the
Lion said.
"It's your own damn fault," said his adversary. "Chalk it up as a lesson
in humility. Who the hell ever accomplished anything with one of those
big grandstanding moves in the first place?"
"I'll have you know I once ambushed a bear. "

"By falling off a lighting fixture? And which scar did that one leave
you with, hmm?"
The Lion snorted. "Shut up and help me off the floor. My back's killing
me. And toss me one of those towels." A moment's leverage, suitably
applied, resulted in the Lion becoming vertical once again. He draped
the towel over his naked chest and led the way to the sideboard. "I've
got half a mind to join you," he said after a moment, easing the words
out around a large chunk of roast beef. "I've missed the last two
Knittings, and the one before that must have been, oh, twenty,
twenty-five years ago."
"Sure," Max said, "go ahead, come. Forget all that stuff you were
telling me last week about how you're the only responsible force
holding this city together and getting the warehouses rebuilt on
schedule, not to mention the good government seminar you're putting
your old friend Kaar through. Let Roosing Oolvaya sink back into the
river - who needs it anyway?"
The Lion glared at him, an effect somewhat spoiled by the protruding
cud of half-chewed meat in one cheek. "It's my kids," he said, "I should
never have had kids in the first place. That was the beginning of the end.
They warp your whole sensibility. You should have some."
"You forget," said Max, "I do have some. I have yours. Don't think I
don't regret it, either."
The Lion resumed chewing, a look of satisfaction on his face. He might
have been the one who'd ended up flat on his back on the floor, but that
didn't mean he was the one who'd lost. "So, you think you can teach my
son something?"
"He's got two arms and a brain, and at least a full complement of
normal senses," Max said cautiously. "I don't see why not. Should be
able to put a little maturity on him, at any rate, if he doesn't get carved
up first."
A rather feral grin curled the left side of the Lion's mouth. He ran the

towel over his forehead, catching the sheen of water draining down past
his headband from his long black hair. "You studied with no master
you'll lay name to, you fight in a mad hodgepodge without recognizable
style, no part of the room is safe from you, either, and on top of that
you know the value of life - by damn, I like that in a man! Are you sure
you're not my son?"
Max raised an eyebrow and glanced at the Lion. True, they were about
the same height, and they both had straightish black hair, although
Max's ran more toward the wavy and the Lion's was running
significantly toward gray, but Max had a lighter, more lithe build than
the Lion's heavy-boned, mass-of-the-earth eastern-plains solidity. Max
was also fully at home with the company of a highly functioning mind.
The Lion, Max had discovered, had a brain with which no one could
find fault, but was reticent to the point of pulling teeth about actually
using it, rather than the largest convenient sword or the nearest
wieldable chair. Beyond temperament, there was also the issue of age
to consider. "It would seem unlikely," Max said. "Then again, who can
say? If you can provide a reasonable inheritance, though, you're
welcome to adopt me."
"How did you pick up that nickname anyway, the 'Vaguely
Disreputable'?" The Lion had retrieved his sword and was idly using it
to cut a thin slice of corned beef from the other large hunk on the
serving platter. Suddenly he whirled, flinging the slice of meat off the
end of the blade toward Max's eyes and launching the rest of his body
after it. Max immediately fell backward and tucked into a roll. He'd
been preparing himself for something of the sort, having found that the
Lion enjoyed trying to lull his opponent off guard before flailing out in
some unexpected attack. The corned beef flew over Max's body and hit
the wall behind him but the Lion's sword, following it, slashed down
instead.
Max stopped his back somersault perched on his shoulders and
reversed