Demonbane (Book 4) (2 page)

“So…where exactly am
I
sitting?” asked Kara between clenched teeth.

Brionne gave a coy look, then motioned with the edge of the place card towards a spot further down the table. “I believe I saw your name there, my dear. Next to General Ulinov and Sir Eregan.” She lowered her voice, her eyes twinkling. “I’d watch out. General Ulinov is quite the chatterbox, and Eregan…well, let’s just say that he certainly has an eye for the ladies.”

Kara gave Brionne a hateful glare. “Thanks for the warning.”

Brionne leaned forward, and slipped a lithe arm around Maklavir’s. “Enjoy your dinner, Lady Maklavir. I can’t wait to learn
all
about your husband.”

Kara looked over at Maklavir with desperation on her face.

The diplomat shrugged awkwardly. He gave Brionne an uncomfortable glance. “We’ll…see each other after dinner, Kara. At the dance.”

Brionne gave Kara a dismissive wink. “Until then.” She turned to Maklavir, and pulled him down into the chair. “Now, Mr. Maklavir, I have
so
much I want to ask you—”

Kara turned from the pair and stomped down to her place setting at the table.

A obscenely fat man with a double chin, a monocle on one eye, and lanky gray hair folded over a nearly bald head looked up at her with delight as she approached. He got up out of his chair and gave a sweeping bow.

“A pleasure, Lady Maklavir,” he rumbled.

Kara forced a smile onto her face, then sat down at the table.

“We need to contact the others.” Tomas turned from where the horses were stabled. “The situation has changed.”

“No,” said Kendril firmly. He shivered in the cold of the stable, glancing out the door at the falling snow outside. “Things have changed, but we still have the advantage. Bronwyn doesn’t know that we’re here.”

“How do you know that?” Tomas asked keenly.

“She didn’t see us,” Joseph put in. He shuddered himself as a slash of cold air swept through the cracks of the stable walls. “Kendril and I were hidden when we spotted her.”

“But she will see your two friends, if she hasn’t already,” Tomas insisted. His face darkened as he looked back at Kendril. “She’ll blow their cover.”

Kendril shook his head obstinately. “I don’t think so. I’ve been going over it in my mind. I don’t think Bronwyn ever met Kara or Maklavir back in Balneth. I doubt she will recognize them.”

“But they
were
in the same room together,” Joseph admitted. “At least Maklavir was. She might recognize him.”

“Doubtful,” snorted Kendril. He turned to the door, rubbing his arms against the chill of the snowy night.

“But there’s a chance?” asked Tomas. He gave the horse a pat. “We can’t risk it, Kendril. We need to summon the others, then—”

“Then
what
?” Kendril whirled, his eyes flashing fire. “Storm the house? Get into a pitched battle with Dutraad’s guards? And in all the confusion lose the Soulbinder?” He stepped face-to-face with the other Ghostwalker. “We can’t risk
that
, Tomas.”

“We don’t know where the Soulbinder is,” Tomas growled. “It could be anywhere in the house, for Eru’s sake.”

“All the more reason not to alert Dutraad to our presence. Give Kara and Maklavir a chance to search for it first.”

Tomas tossed back his head and gave Kendril a probing glance. “If we
don’t
act, and Bronwyn recognizes your friend Maklavir, then we’ll lose the Soulbinder too. Are you really willing to risk
that
?”

Kendril held up a finger. “Think it through. If Bronwyn is here, she’s involved with Dutraad. If she was going to recognize Maklavir, she would have done it by now, then alerted Dutraad and the house guards. She hasn’t.”

Tomas looked away, his face torn with indecision. “Alright, keep talking,” he said at last.

“Bronwyn complicates everything.
She
might have the Soulbinder, not Dutraad, and if she does we have no idea where she’s stashed it.”

Joseph peered out the door into the darkness, keeping watch in the estate’s yard. The stable was empty except for the three of them. “Is she staying here at Dutraad’s estate?” He glanced back inside the stable at the two Ghostwalkers. “She might have a room of her own.”

“We don’t know,” said Kendril. He paced back and forth between two stalls, his hands clenching agitatedly. “We need information.” He swung back around towards Joseph. “Maklavir said Kara would be changing before the ball, didn’t he?”

The grizzled scout nodded. “The white dress, remember? Apparently it’s traditional for these Candle Ice ceremonies.”

“Then she’ll be going back up to their room.”

Tomas narrowed his eyes. “What exactly are you thinking, Kendril?”

“We may not have the run of the house,” Kendril said, his eyes blazing with intensity as he spoke, “but we could rendezvous with Kara and Maklavir in their room.”

Joseph nodded slowly, catching the drift of Kendril’s thinking. “We could warn them about Bronwyn, tell them to keep their eyes open.”

“More than that,” Kendril breathed. “We need two things at once. We need Kara to search Dutraad’s room for the Soulbinder, and we need to get Bronwyn.”

Tomas crossed his arms, a doubtful look on his face. “
Get
Bronwyn? What exactly do you mean?”

Kendril looked over at his fellow Ghostwalker. “She knows where the Soulbinder is. I’d stake my life on it. We need to separate her from the party, capture her, then—” he paused, glancing self-consciously over in Joseph’s direction. “Interrogate her.”

“If she really is a witch, I think we should just kill her,” said Tomas coldly.

Joseph stared aghast at both men. “Listen to yourselves. I can’t believe we’re talking like this. We can’t just kill a woman in cold blood.”

“I agree,” said Kendril swiftly. “Bronwyn’s too valuable to us alive. We need to get her away from the guests, get her out of the house, then question her.”

“We can’t do
that
, either,” said Joseph in horror.

Kendril snapped his head towards his friend. “She’s a
witch
, Joseph. A servant of the dark powers. She knows how to use the Soulbinder. Do you
understand
? In her hands the Soulbinder is even more dangerous than in Dutraad’s.”

“Then
who
has it?” Tomas said in frustration. “Bronwyn or Dutraad? And
where
is it?”

“Now you see why we can’t go rushing into the house,” Kendril replied. “And why we need Bronwyn. She’s the key to all this. I know it.”

Tomas sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking carefully. “We need to let Madris and Olan know what’s going on. At the least.”

“Find Hamis,” Kendril said. “He said he would be outside the estate in one of the streets. Pass the message on to him, and he can alert the others. But don’t let them come barging in. Not yet.”

“Olan says you’re not to be trusted, Kendril,” Tomas said bluntly.

Kendril met the other Ghostwalker’s gaze. “You know my opinion of Olan.”

Tomas stepped toward the door. He looked back over his shoulder at Kendril. “This is on your head, Kendril. You’d better be right about the witch and the Soulbinder.”

Kendril said nothing.

Without another word, Tomas disappeared into the whipping snowflakes outside the stable.

Joseph nodded grimly. “What about us?”

“We need to find Maklavir and Kara’s room before the ball begins.” Kendril turned to the door of the stable and peered out into the yard.

“To warn them?”

“To capture Bronwyn.” Kendril looked back at his friend. “As much as I hate to admit it, I need Maklavir’s help.”

“Why, Mr. Maklavir, you certainly
have
led a fascinating life. Tell me more about what Wodin was like when you were there.”

“Please, just Maklavir,” replied the diplomat. He poked at his food uneasily. “And there isn’t really much to say about Wodin. Kalingland is a cold country, much like Valmingaard. They share many of the same customs—”

Brionne leaned in, her face resting on one perfectly perched hand. “There’s just something so familiar about you, Maklavir. I wish I could place it. You were at the King’s court, you said? In Varnost?”

“Uh, yes,” Maklavir responded. He tugged nervously at his collar, trying to keep his attention on his food and not the gorgeous woman beside him. “For a time. Nothing to say about it, really. Have you tried the duck? Absolutely fantastic.” He took a sip of wine, then glanced up the banquet table towards where Kara sat.

The redhead sat with a desperate smile frozen on her face, making awkward conversation with the two men seated next to her. She caught Maklavir’s gaze, and gave him a silent pleading look.

He gave her a quick, apologetic smile.

The hall was stuffy and loud, filled with the rumbling murmur of a hundred conversations. Servants bustled in and out constantly, bringing steaming trays filled with meats, breads, and pies of every description. Six large cooked geese were positioned strategically along the length of the table.

“It’s such a pleasure to sit next to a refined gentlemen such as yourself,” Brionne purred in his ear. “A man of genuine distinction, I mean.”

Maklavir jumped as Brionne’s bare foot slid rubbed against his leg.

“Yes, well, I—” he stammered, momentarily flustered. He glanced up the table again.

Dutraad was barely eating his food. His eyes were fixed on Kara.

Maklavir felt a sudden prick. Fake marriage or not, he didn’t appreciate the baron eyeing his wife.

“You are a handsome man, Maklavir,” Brionne continued, her voice soft and sensual in his ear. “Kara is a fortunate woman.”

Maklavir blushed despite himself. There was something about Brionne that threw him off-balance. It was hard to think, hard even to breathe around her.

“I’m glad that you’re here in Vorten,” Brionne said. She sidled up next to him, rubbing his arm in a more than friendly manner. “It must be nice for you. A chance to step into society again. To wear the finest clothes, attend the finest dinner parties…” She licked her lips. “And to meet the
nicest
people.”

And all to get a stupid pendant
, Maklavir thought bitterly. He was playacting, nothing more. This was all a pretense, a façade, all so that Kendril and his paranoid friends could get their precious Soulbinder back.

He took a breath, staring at the food piled on his plate. With a sudden, sharp stab of envy that shocked him to his core, Maklavir realized that he wanted it all to be real. He wanted to start his life over again here in Vorten, have Baron Dutraad for his benefactor, the beautiful Kara as his doting wife, the applause of his fellow barristers—

And in time, perhaps, a request from the King. A crisis with the Baderan monarch. Something that required a diplomat of Maklavir’s skill. All would be forgiven. Would he come back?
Could
he come back?

Maklavir couldn’t move. He wanted it all. More than anything he had ever wanted in his life. It was a hole that burned in the middle of his chest, an ache that wouldn’t go away.

Brionne suddenly snapped her fingers, bringing Maklavir rudely back to the present moment.

“Balneth,” she said with a triumphant smile. “
That’s
where I’ve seen you before.”

Chapter 2

“Where do you two think you’re going?”

Kendril and Joseph paused in the corridor. The noise from the dining hall echoed behind them.

Two armed men blocked the hallway ahead. One stepped forward, brandishing a musket. “I asked you a question,” he snarled.

“Friendly folk,” Joseph said under his breath.

Kendril lifted the bag he carried with a smile. “We’re just taking this luggage to Mr. Maklavir’s room. Perhaps you could help us find the way?”

The guards exchanged glances.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” one said.

“Look,” said Joseph, “we’re not trying to cause any trouble. We came with Mr. and Mrs. Maklavir. Ask Gole. Tuldor’s beard, ask Mr. Maklavir himself. We’re just trying to find his room. We need to set their things up for them. Lady Maklavir is particular about her toiletries.”

There was a long pause.

“Alright,” grumbled the first guard. He stepped to one side, then motioned with his weapon. “This way. I’ll take you there.”

“How kind,” said Kendril. He lifted the bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“Most people don’t comprehend the intricacies of brewing.” General Ulinov stabbed a deviled egg with his fork. “It’s vital to pick the right kind of hops—”

“Fascinating,” said Kara through a pained smile.

On her right, Eregan dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “Oh, do shut up, General. You’re boring the poor girl.”

“
Boring
?” Ulinov’s face flushed. “Perhaps, sir, if you kept your eyes on your food, and off the poor woman’s—”

“
Ahem.
”

They turned around in their chairs to see a smiling Dutraad standing behind them.

Ulinov started to rise. “My lord, I—”

Dutraad raised a hand. “No, no, my good general. No need to get up. My poor wife has retired for the night, and now Lady Frenzina has departed as well.” His eyes fell on Kara. “I was hoping to steal this charming young woman from you for a few minutes. It gets so lonely at the head of the table.”

Both seated men opened their mouths as if to object, but were too stunned to say anything.

Kara shot up out of her seat. “I would be more than happy to sit next to you, my lord.”

Dutraad gave a satisfied grin and held out a hand to the young woman. “Wonderful. And like I said before, Kara, call me Dutraad.”

“Balneth?” Maklavir fumbled for words. His mind searched frantically for a way out of his situation. “I don’t—I mean I haven’t been to Llewyllan in—” He stopped and stared at the beautiful woman beside him.

There was something about her, Maklavir realized. Something oddly familiar—

Then he remembered. In Balneth, Kendril had mentioned a courtesan, a woman involved with Lord Bathsby. What had her name been…? Bronia, Brennan…