Soulbinder (Book 3) (31 page)
Read Soulbinder (Book 3) Online
Authors: Ben Cassidy
The woman came over. She was astonishingly unattractive. The white dress she wore did nothing to hide or accentuate her dumpy figure. Her dirty blonde hair fell around her shoulders, thin and lanky.
“This is Maklavir and his wife Kara, dear,” Dutraad said unenthusiastically.
Kara curtsied perfectly. “Delighted to meet you, Lady Dutraad.”
The woman waved a hand, as if dismissing the comment. “It’s a p-p-pleasure to m-m-meet you,” she stuttered. She pushed one hand to her stomach. “I’m feeling s-sick again,” she groaned to her husband.
Maklavir and Kara both froze, glancing at each other and saying nothing.
The smile remained etched on Dutraad’s face. “You’ve probably had too many cookies, Mina dear.”
She leaned over, appearing as if she was going to be sick right that moment. “I’m s-s-sorry, I d-d-d—”
Dutraad nodded quickly. “Perhaps you should rest in your room a little while, my love. I’ll have one of the servants help you upstairs.”
The woman looked into her husband’s face. “C-c-couldn’t you--?”
“Dinner hasn’t even begun, Mina, and I have a hundred guests here,” he said under his breath.
Maklavir and Kara both shuffled uncomfortably.
“I think I see an old acquaintance over there by the window,” Maklavir finally said diplomatically. “With your permission, my lord, I might go and say hello.”
Dutraad gave a thin smile. “Of course. Kara, I hope to talk with you again before the night is over.”
Maklavir and Kara turned, moving across the crowded hall.
Kara risked a glance back behind them.
Dutraad and his wife were having a tense conversation. A servant stood helplessly nearby, unsure of what to do.
“And here I thought
I
would be the embarrassment at this party,” whispered Kara. “Lady Dutraad certain seems—” She let the sentence hang in the air.
Maklavir nodded and smiled to another barrister. “Lady Dutraad is a distant relation of the royal family,” he said softly. “Marrying her was…socially expedient for Baron Dutraad.”
Kara blanched. “How horrible. Doesn’t anyone in the nobility believe in love?”
“That’s what mistresses are for, my dear,” came a new voice directly behind them.
Kara turned with a start, and found herself faced with dark-haired beauty with a plunging neckline and a fantastically svelte figure.
Maklavir stumbled for words for a second. “My wife…she didn’t mean—”
“Of course she did,” the woman said sweetly. “And she’s right. Lady Dutraad is an absolute bore.” She stepped forward and held out her hand expectantly.
Maklavir took it and kissed her white skin. “I’m Maklavir,” he said as he straightened. “This is my wife Kara.”
“A married man?” The woman gave Kara a condescending glance. “How unfortunate.”
Kara’s eyes flashed.
“Have…we met before?” Maklavir asked hesitantly. “There’s something very familiar about you.”
The woman gave a tinkling laugh. “Why Mr. Maklavir, I think I would remember meeting a man as handsome as you.” She looked over at Kara. “I hope you both enjoy the festivities. Try the buttered scones. They are absolutely delicious.” She moved away, melting into the crowd around them.
“Why that little—” Kara spat.
Maklavir tightened his grip on her arm.
The redhead looked over at him in surprise. “What is it?”
The diplomat gave a quick shake of his head. “I…don’t know. But something is very, very wrong.”
The study at the end of the hallway was dark and empty. Light and noise spilled in from the door, open a crack.
Kendril maneuvered past some book shelves, and sidled up to the crack. He peeked out into the crowded hall beyond.
Joseph glanced back down the hall behind them. “We have to sleep in the stable? It’s freezing out there.”
Kendril continued to look out into the hallway, peering through the partially-open door. “We’ve slept outside before.”
“With the right supplies. I didn’t bring any blankets, and I doubt we can start a fire out there.” Joseph looked over at his friend with interest. “See Kara and Maklavir yet?”
Kendril nodded, his body visibly relaxing. “There they are,” he whispered. “At least they haven’t got thrown out of the house yet.”
Joseph leaned against one of the bookshelves. “I’d say so far this is going fairly well, all things considered.”
“Yes,” said Kendril, “that’s what—” He suddenly jumped back from the door as if he had been bitten.
Joseph leapt to attention. “What’s wrong?”
Kendril leaned back towards the door, looking out into the hall. “
Talin’s ashes
. It’s not possible.”
“What?” Joseph inquired, thoroughly frustrated. “What’s—”
Kendril spun back from the door, heading for the darkened hallway. “We’ve got to get them out of there. Where’s Tomas?”
Joseph hurried after him, surprised and confused. “Parking the carriage. Why--?”
“We’re all in danger. I should have known. I should have
guessed
.” He stopped at the stairs that led down to the servants’ quarter, his hands clutching jerkily for weapons. “I need my pistols.”
“Kendril—” Joseph grabbed the Ghostwalker by the shoulder and spun him around. “Stop right now and tell me what’s going on.”
Kendril rubbed the bottom half of his face agitatedly. “You were right. It’s Balneth all over again. I saw her, out in the hall. She’s here.”
Joseph spread his hands. “Who?”
Kendril took a breath. “Bronwyn. The witch of Balneth.”
Continued in Book 4 of the Chronicles of Zanthora:
For thrilling action adventure set in the “sword and planet” setting of the Two Rings, check out these collections of novellas, also by Ben Cassidy:
Daughter of Llathe: A Tale of the Two Rings
Tales of the Two Rings: Volume 1
Tales of the Two Rings: Volume 2
About the Author:
Ben Cassidy lives in Vancouver, WA, with his wife and three children. He pursued graduate studies in history for several years until he decided that reading six scholarly books a week was not challenging enough for him, and so switched to being a stay-at-home dad. He has been writing since he was in third grade, though now he is able to bribe other people to do the illustrating for him. He has the uncanny habit of writing of himself in the third person, and is disturbed by how easily his whole life can be summed up
in four sentences. Or even five.
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Note from the Author:
I need your help.
When you publish independently, you have to do everything yourself. I’m not just writing and dreaming up plotlines and characters. I’m editing, formatting, and marketing my books as well. All that takes time, and most of it I’m not very good at.
There is no marketing campaign behind me. No major publishing house. No motivated literary agent watching my back. It’s just me. And in this e-book age, a successful writer needs positive word-of-mouth to succeed.
If you liked what you just read, if you want to see more of the characters and the worlds I am creating, then take five minutes to help me out. Publish a review of my work online. You’d be amazed how important reviews are, and how few readers do it. Click on my facebook link (above) and like my page. Sign up for my update email list, [email protected]. I promise I will only send emails to you when I’m coming out with a new piece of fiction.
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And thank you for reading what I have written. If even for a moment you found yourself standing under the twin moons of a distant world, or smelled the stench of gunpowder and crisp tang of blood, then I consider my work well done.
Continued in Book Four of the Chronicles of Zanthora:
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