‘I think you shall continue to see me until you see fit to change your
occupation.’
‘My work is totally within the limits of the law.’ The thin man bristled,
betraying, for a moment, the strength of will hidden in his outwardly feeble
body.
‘So you said in Ranke. I still find it offensive, without redeeming merit.’
‘Without redeeming…’ Kurd shrieked, then words failed him. His lips tightened,
he seized Zalbar by the arm and began pulling him towards the house. ‘Come with
me now,’ he instructed. ‘Let me show you my work and explain what I am doing.
Perhaps then you will be able to grasp the importance of my studies.’
In his career Zalbar had faced death in many guises and done it unflinchingly.
Now, however, he drew back in horror.
‘I … That won’t be necessary,’ he insisted.
‘Then you continue to blindly condemn my actions without allowing me a fair
hearing?’ Kurd pointed a bent, bony finger at the Hell Hound, a note of triumph
in his voice.
Trapped by his own convictions, Zalbar swallowed hard and steeled himself. ‘Very
well, lead on. But, I warn you – my opinions are not easily swayed.’
Zalbar’s resolve wavered once they entered the building and he was assaulted by
the smells of its interior. Then he caught sight of the gardener smirking at him
from the doorway and set his face in ‘ an expressionless mask as he was led up
the-,stairs to the second floor.
All that the Hell Hound had ever heard or imagined about Kurd’s work failed to
prepare him for the scene which greeted him when the pale man opened the door to