"Well, me''be one think." The young hag stirred the pot vigorously for a moment. Several objects bobbed to the surface momentarily. One of them wriggled before being dragged back under by the tidal forces in the cauldron.

    "Go on then," Urt prompted, relocating his gaze back to her legs, which were preferable in any number of ways to the contents of the pot.

    "S''a book."

    "A book?"

    "Yus."

    "Er, any more details? What kind of book are we talking about here? A Grimoire of ancient spells? A Tome of Knowledge? A treasure map? A book of naughty pictures?" A sudden flush rushed up Urt''s body, and he looked back up at the content of the pot again. Perhaps he shouldn''t be concentrating on legs just now after all.

    "The Lexicon Tormentus,'' she replied, after a moment more of stirring. "S''rare and deadly and rare ''tis."

    "The Lexicon Tormentus is it?" Urt rubbed at his chin. "Sounds impressive anyway. I don''t suppose you know where this rare and deadly tome can be found do you?"

    "And rare."

    "And rare, quite."

    The hag suddenly stopped her cooking and leaned forward, poking him in the ?h?st with a dirty, but otherwise slender and attractive finger. "Ay! I does! I does! ''tis yonder!" Her finger swivelled around to point at the door for a moment, before returning to his ?h?st.

    After glancing at the door to ensure the book wasn''t hanging on a hook there, Urt looked back at her. "I''m probably going to need a little more detail than ''yonder''," Urt replied. "Unless it''s on the road outside."

    "Oh aye, ''tis far ''way." She paused and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and then down at her finger again.

    Urt nodded encouragingly, hoping he wasn''t expected to fly off anywhere. "Go on."

    "Ina straange place."

    "And where would this be, exactly?" Urt said. The finger on his ?h?st was giving him goosebumps.

    "Groan."

    "Groan?"

    "Groan." The hag nodded, removed her finger from his ?h?st, and returned to her pot.

    "How far away, and what, exactly, is Groan?"

    "Toown. Big ''un. East. Me''be coupla days. No neva goon."

    "A big town." Urt nodded. "Very well, it may be interesting to see somewhere that has plumbing. Plus I have few options at the moment. You have a deal."

    Smiling, and incidentally revealing perfect and somewhat shockingly white teeth, the hag nodded. "Ay, yoo neh be sorry."

    "I find that unlikely," Urt replied. "Now then, what about those clothes? Also, and I hesitate to ask this, but I wouldn''t mind a bite to eat and somewhere to rest up."

    The hag nodded. "I can doos them."

    "Excellent," said Urt, looking around the room once more. "I''m sure we''ll have a jolly time."

    ~ * ~

    Samantha woke up and stretched luxuriously. She didn''t often indulge like this, but with her latest mission almost complete the temptation had been too much. The inn had been perfectly placed, and the young man had been as gullible as he had been handsome.

    She opened her eyes and cast a glance at the form lying next to her.

    "Hello handsome, I hope you slept well." She kissed him lightly on the forehead and slipped out of bed. "I had a marvellously wonderful sleep, but it''s time to get back to work." Lithe as a cat, she padded over to the bowl of water the inn provided for freshening up, and splashed some over her face.

    "So, maybe some breakfast," she said, drying herself off with the cloth next to the bowl. "What do you think? Some eggs perhaps, maybe a slice of pork, have to keep the strength up if I''m to deliver the package to my employer."

    She pulled on her tight leather outfit and then adjusted it whilst looking in the mirror. "I shouldn''t really be telling you this," she carried on. "But under the circumstances I think it''s probably alright. You''re not got to say anything, are you?" She giggled and slid several daggers into various strategic points around her body, before giving herself one more once over in the reflection.

    "Still got it, but you found that out last night, didn''t you?" Smiling, she sauntered back over to her date and sat down on the bed next to him. "You were great by the way, I''m just sorry it had to end so soon. Ah well, no hard feelings eh?"

    Reaching over, she pulled the thin knife from his eye socket and wiped it clean on the bedclothes, before slipping out of the room to get something breakfast.

    ~ * ~

    "Tell me again why we''re going back to Mudrut?" Horace said from the arms of the zombie girl, as they trudged along the road.

    "I have no food, other than a couple of rather old apples the hag gave me," Urt pointed out. "Besides, the hag didn''t know if a ''few days travel'' was by foot or horse, so one has to ?ssume it could actually be further than the alleged ''few'' days."

    "Well at least you had a nice place to stay the night," the zombie said. "I was stuck out here with little miss chatty for company. It rained a bit too, and you know how water plays havoc with my skin."

    "The hag''s pretty decent once you get to know her," Urt said, ignoring his minion''s complaints and recalling the surprisingly pleasant afternoon and evening with the young witch. It had turned out that she had about as much experience of the outside world as Urt had. Her mistress had died the year before, and she''d had to make do on her own since then. They''d got on well, though Urt had wanted more. Despite his d?s?r?s he''d slept alone, on some straw near the cauldron fire. Overall it had been more comfortable than is old hut.

    "Well, at least you look spiffy in your new clothes," the zombie head replied.

    Looking down at his new attire, Urt had to agree. Somehow the hag had provided him with fine dark robes, fit enough for any wizard of evil. The shoes, more like workman''s boots actually, didn''t quite match, but they were hidden under the low hemline. Besides, they were sturdy and comfortable. Far more so than his old ones.

    The problem of transport, provisions and money still remained though. He hadn''t admitted it to Horace, but part of the reason he wanted to return was to see if he could track down his erstwhile date from the previous night. The only thing he had on him was the letter he''d picked up in the hotel, which he''d still not read. He thought about opening it now, but he didn''t really want to do that on the road whilst walking.

    "Do you know anything about this Groan place?" he asked the head.

    "I''ve heard of a place called Groan, but it wasn''t a city, more like a large village, maybe a small town," the zombie replied.

    "Well, as long as it''s bigger than Mudrut."

    "I don''t think that would be hard," Horace replied.

    "I''ve been thinking…" Urt started.

    "Always a first time for everything," Horace interjected.

    "You know, you are my minion. I don''t think you should be answering back so much. There''s probably a necromancer''s code I''m breaking just speaking to you in civil fashion." Urt scowled. "I should banish you, or subject you to some kind of horrible torment."

    "Like taking away my body maybe?" Horace waggled what remained of his eyebrows. "Perhaps trudging up and down this Dreg forsaken road? Maybe even visiting an out of the way village inhabited by halfwits?"

    "Oh shut up," Urt commanded, suddenly weary.

    "By your command." Horace shut up.

    The rest of the journey was made in silence, with Urt in a bad mood. Ever since his mentor had vanished things had gone from bad to worse. Now he was traipsing back to a, to use Horace''s description, out of the way village inhabited by halfwits, in the hope of recovering items stolen from his person by one of said halfwits.

    Thus, when the village finally crept into view Urt had worked himself up into quite a temper. No more taking orders from semi-literate farmers! It was time to start making his mark on the world.

    "Am I a necromancer or am I a minion?" he asked out loud.

    "Was that directed at me?" Horace asked. "Are you still sulking?"

    "I am not sulking," Urt snapped. "I am… focusing on my goals. Yes, that''s it. Positive thinking. That''s the way to go. It''s time to show them who''s boss."

    "That would be the Warden then," Horace commented. "Or anyone with who can wack you over the head with a stick whilst you''re incanting."

    "There may be some obstacles," Urt replied. "But I''m ready now. They won''t catch me off guard again."

    "This should be good," the zombie said then.

    Urt rolled up the sleeves of his new robe and nodded. "Oh yes," he said. "People are going to die laughing."