Death - sheath

WHAT A COINCIDENCE, said the skull. HELP ME UP, PLEASE.

The figure rose unsteadily, brushing itself down. Now Mort could see there was a heavy belt around its waist, from which was slung a white-handled sword.

'I hope you are not hurt, sir,' he said politely.

The skull grinned. Of course, Mort thought, it hasn't much of a choice.

***

Mort p11