Binding Spell (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms)

by Pope, Christine

  When I emerged, Maldis’ eyes took on a certain hungry gleam, and I could see how his gaze strayed to the low-cut bodice of my dress. My very flesh crawled, but I set my jaw and went toward him anyway.

  “Very good, my dear,” he said, and reached out and took me by the hand. Before I could tear myself away, he had snaked an arm around my waist, dragging me toward him, pressing his vile mouth against mine. I forced myself not to choke, not to splutter or resist.

  No, I could not quite pretend I enjoyed that embrace, but apparently Maldis was satisfied that I had not fought him. When he released me, his expression was positively gloating.

  “I think you begin to see there are some benefits to being my consort.”

  Somehow I managed to prevent myself from reaching up and wiping his spittle from my mouth. Indeed, I even smiled and said, “You do kiss very well. Is that more magic?”

  “If you wish it to be.”

  And he reached out to draw me toward him once more, but I put up a hand. “I beg you, my lord, no more. It is not fair.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Fair?”

  “It is not fair to make me want you, when I cannot…do anything…for some days hence.”

  A gleam in the golden eyes then, as he licked his lips. “Ah, yes. Well, what is it they say? The good things are the ones worth waiting for?”

  Like watching your true body die as it chokes on its own black soul… “We shall only have to hope the wait will not be too long, my lord.”

  “Indeed, my dear.”

  He raised my hand to his mouth, and I forced myself not to shudder, for of course I could not betray my true feelings — not now, when he was in an apparently mellow mood. My mind raced. I wanted to know how he had stolen Kadar’s form, but I could not be too obvious in my interest. A roundabout way seemed best.

  “I am curious, though,” I said, in deceptively languid tones.

  “Curious?” he repeated, his brows lowering.

  A chill touched the back of my neck, seeming to move down my spine, but I somehow made myself smile. “You were so very clever at knowing just the right things to say to Kadar, to get him to accept you as his councilor. How was that? Does your magic allow you to read minds?”

  At once his chest puffed out a little. “No, not that. But I learned of his desire to make the North great, no matter what the cost, from a certain young woman who once shared his bed. Apparently they spoke of more than lovemaking, and she knew many of his secrets. And, having been spurned by him, she was all too eager to pass those secrets on to me.” He gave an unpleasant chuckle. “Better the fury of the demons of the underworld than an angry lover, eh?”

  I managed an uneasy laugh in reply. “She did seem to be a most intemperate woman.”

  So it was the spurned Tanira who had given Maldis the information he needed to poison Kadar’s mind with false hopes of greatness. Of course she could have had no idea of Maldis’ true nature when she did gave away her secrets, but even so I found myself hoping viciously that she now suffered in her arranged marriage with the tin merchant even a tenth of the misery she had inflicted on Kadar, and by extension on that poor dead princess, on so many others.

  “One might say that. But she is quite the beauty.”

  I must have stiffened, for he reached toward me again and drew me close, kissed me once more. Closing my eyes helped to feign pleasure at his loathsome caress, although I only did so in order to avoid looking at him.

  But he seemed pleased with my reception of his repulsive caress, for he patted me on the cheek, then said, “No need to be jealous, my dear. After all, I am here with you, not her. But now I must be off to begin my day.”

  I smiled once more and, as he finally left me in peace, reflected on my sudden talent for dissembling.

  Then again, it never does to underestimate what one will do when forced into a corner.

  * * *

  What Maldis did with his time that day, I did not precisely know. I could only be glad that he did not spend it with me. Beranne returned to keep me company, but she sensed that I had little use for conversation, and so kept at her incessant darning, her lips pursed in disapproval.

  Tresi ventured out of her basket once Maldis was gone, and I spent some time petting her and throwing the little ball she loved to chase. I suggested a walk, but Beranne gave my silk gown one look and said that she should take care of the dog, as it had begun to snow again, and I would only ruin my dress.

  Her absence gave me a chance to focus on Maldis at least. By then I was rested enough that I could sit in my comfortable chair and close my eyes, and reach out to where he was in the castle. The Hall of Grievances, it seemed, and I bit my lip, knowing he had gone there to pass judgment without me. God only knew what dreadful decisions he was making, but I could do nothing about that now except hope that whatever pronouncements he handed down could be rescinded as soon as things were back to normal.

  Normal. I wondered if I even knew what that was anymore.

  Even so, I made myself concentrate on him, on that dark presence in my mind’s eye. From him I again saw that black cord trailing out the back of his head, moving along the corridor. It shone with an oily gleam that showed up even in the shadows, and so this time I was able to follow its path through the hallways and then down the stairs, down…

  My breath caught. Could it be?

  Yes, it seemed that slick thread of magic worked its way down into the cellars, down at last to the cell which had once held Ulias. And lying on the bed of furs was not that mage’s noble winged form, but Maldis’ unimpressive body, mouth slack, eyes shut. His hands were crossed on his breast, and I could not see them rise and fall.

  I wanted to laugh at the temerity of it, that he should secret himself here in the castle, of all places. Then again, I supposed I could see the logic. After all, people were already used to being warned away from that section of the cellars, so the risk of his abandoned body being disturbed was fairly low. And of course he had no idea that there was anyone alive who could follow the trail of his foul magic to its source. Now all I had to do was discover how to unravel that oily, gleaming thread…

  “My lady!”

  Eyes snapping open, I saw Beranne standing a few paces off, Tresi panting at her feet. Obviously they had just returned from their walk. She stared at me, the same frown I had seen far too often lately pulling at her brow.

  “Are you quite all right, my lady?”

  “Well enough,” I replied airily. “I suppose I must have dozed off.”

  Her expression remained dubious, but she merely said, “Of course, my lady. Althan sent word that his lordship would like to meet with you in his audience chamber.”

  “His what?” I didn’t pretend to have familiarized myself with the entire castle yet, but I thought I had a good notion of most of the public rooms, and I had never heard before of an audience chamber.

  A sniff. “Well, he’s taken it in his head to call it that. The Hall of Grievances, or at least as what it used to be.”

  “‘Used to be’?”

  Disapproval flashed in her dark eyes, although Beranne knew better than to utter an open criticism of the Mark. “Apparently he wishes there to be no more grievances spoken. Wants the constables to sort it out, or some such.”

  Good lord. No wonder Maldis had not taken me with him to the Hall of Grievances today — he’d known I would have protested such a foolish plan. This would be an enormously unpopular decision. I had not spent much time in the North, but I knew the Hall was a longstanding tradition, one that let the people feel as if they had some say in their governance. What on earth did the dark mage think he would accomplish by stirring up his subjects against him before he even got started?

  Then again, looking for logic and common sense in a man who thought nothing of draining innocent souls merely to usurp their power, who would steal the body of a man as a means to further his own ambitions, was probably a futile exercise at best.

  “I can’t imagine what’s
gotten into him,” I said, and rose from my chair. “I’ll speak to him right away.”

  “Thank you, my lady. He does seem to value your judgment.”

  I could only nod and hurry out the door as she followed along in my wake. Yes, Kadar had come to trust me somewhat, to consult with me on certain topics, but of course Maldis would show me no such courtesy. Why he wanted to see me now, I did not know, but I doubted it could be for anything good.

  However, he might have unwittingly played into my hands. For if the two of us could be alone together, then perhaps I would have the opportunity I required to reach out and sever the bond of unholy magic that connected his spirit to his abandoned body.

  This thought only caused me to speed up my pace, as poor Beranne huffed and puffed along behind me. When I reached the doors to the Hall of Grievances, she stopped, since the Mark had apparently directed Althan to tell her that I was to see him alone. Well enough. For once I wouldn’t mind being left alone with the dark mage.

  The guards opened the doors to allow me entrance, and shut them behind me again. The echoing boom with which they closed caused me to start a little, but then I recovered myself — only to stop in my tracks, seeing what changes Maldis had already made to the chamber.

  The benches where waiting petitioners and curious onlookers once sat had been removed, and a long red runner traced its path along the stone floor from the doorway to the dais where the throne-like chairs were placed. Or rather, I recognized the one that was my seat when I took my place next to the Mark. His own chair, however, was gone, replaced by a massive piece in carved black oak that made my own rather impressive seat look like a milkmaid’s stool. Along the walls hung lengths of red fabric, plain and with no device. Maldis stood on the dais, watching me approach, his face a study in smugness.

  “My, you’ve been busy,” I remarked. “I had no idea you could get a woodcarver to make you a chair like that overnight.”

  Another of those smirks. “Ah, no. All this was kept in a storeroom. Apparently the late Mark had intended to increase her presence here, if any of her own schemes came to pass, but as her plans failed her, these were kept locked away. But I thought it high time they saw some use.”

  “And no one will mind that there is no more Hall of Grievances?”

  “Not when they see the new greatness of this piddling kingdom of theirs.” He descended the dais and came toward me, arms outstretched. “Would you not rather be the consort of a great ruler, rather than some trifling fool who hunts with his men and whose plans extend toward nothing grander than a silly exchange that will only serve to fill the purses of his merchants and not his own coffers?”

  I thought then I wanted that man very much, the one who considered carefully every grievance brought to him, who knew the names of his servants, who thought nothing of getting on his knees in the mud to inspect the latest repairs to the city walls. It was that man for whom I fought, and not merely for our future together, but the future happiness of all his subjects.

  That thought steeled me as I went to Maldis, allowed him to pull me against him, let him put his mouth on mine. Time enough for him to be distracted, for him to run his hands down my arms, to hold me in place so I could not pull away.

  Not that I wished to.

  No, not because I had gone mad and desired his touch. Not that at all. Standing this close, though, it was almost as if I could reach out and touch that oily tentacle of black magic, the one so strong I could practically see it even without shutting my eyes and reaching out with my mind.

  Because I was so close, I could finally see how it was knotted in and around itself, writhing strands of dark power, connecting his will to its anchor in that body, slack and silent many feet below where we now stood. And because I could now see how that spell was wrought, I could also see how to unwind it, to do the work that would forever bind his tainted soul to his abandoned body.

  There was nothing but those streams of magic, not his hands on my body, not his mouth on mine — nothing but the strength of my will, ripping outward like a blazing sword of light, cutting through them, severing the strands in one mighty rush.

  A keening cry, ripping at my ears, and a rush of cold air around me — and then the hands on me loosened, and the man who had held me just a few heartbeats earlier slumped to the ground. I gathered myself, questing outward for any remnants of that magic, but it was gone, scattered like a morning fog in the race of the rising sun.

  I knelt beside him, reached out, turned him over gently. His blank eyes stared up at the stone ceiling, and then he slowly blinked, thought and reason returning to his features. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper. “Lark?”

  It was him. I knew it then, knew it in that one simple syllable, in the open way his gaze met mine. “Oh, yes, beloved, I’m here.” And I reached out and pulled him to me, weeping.

  His arms tightened around me, but he asked, in firmer tones, “Maldis?”

  “Dead.” Then I shook my head, and pulled away just a little. “That is, he should be dead. The shock of the spell being broken must have killed him.”

  “‘Should’? ‘Must have’?” With a moan, he rolled away from me and staggered to his feet. “Do you know where he is?”

  I didn’t bother protesting that he had had a shock as well, and that he should not be exerting himself. Instead, I rose and said, “The cellar. Where you kept Ulias.”

  Only a nod, and then he was moving away from me, his steps stumbling and ragged, but determined. Too determined.

  “Kadar — ”

  “Do not try to stop me, Lark. I will have my vengeance.”

  There being nothing I could say to that, I merely followed him as he made his way through the hallways, more than once bumping into people, all of whom looked after him with startled expressions but did not protest. Maldis might have thought Kadar a very casual ruler, but he was their ruler nonetheless. After that it was down the stairs, into the cold and the scent of dank, damp cold.

  I was not sure what we would find there. Maldis’ body, still and unmoving, only this time in death and not the mere semblance of it. Or perhaps the fur-covered cot empty, with him tricking us again at the last.

  But I saw neither of these things — the dark mage stood there, the slight form of a woman cradled in his arms, some kind of thin reed, stained with blood around the edges, projecting from her throat. Blood dripped from his mouth, showing the vile purpose of that reed.

  Ulias had never told me exactly how Maldis stole his victims’ power. Now I knew he had taken it by drinking their very blood.

  My stomach coiled in revulsion, even as Maldis sneered, “You are too late! I have taken her power, and then I will take yours, lying bitch!”

  Kadar’s arm was a blur. At first I could not even tell what had happened, exactly, only that Maldis collapsed, the unknown woman’s limp body sliding from his arms. As the dark mage’s head rocked backward, the torch light caught a gleam of steel buried in the pale flesh of his throat. And then I looked from the wound in his neck, which had just begun to bleed, to the empty scabbard at my husband’s hip.

  Our eyes met, and, incongruously, he smiled. “Magic is all very well in its place, my love, but never underestimate the power of a good blade.”

  I gave a hiccuping little laugh and ran at him, throwing my arms around him, pressing my face to his chest. He held me, his heart beating strong and sure against my cheek. And then I lifted my face to his, and he kissed me, strong and sure and sweet, my love, my husband. I did not want to stop, or let go, because his mouth on mine reassured me that he was himself again, only my Kadar, the one man in the world who knew who and what I was, and loved me for it despite everything.

  At length he said, “Not that I don’t appreciate you breaking that spell. Magic does have some uses.”

  I gave him a mock glare, playing along. “Oh, it does, does it?”

  “Yes, it does. And do you know what else?”

  I shook my head. “No.”
/>
  The golden eyes gleamed. “I think you will make North Eredor a very fine queen.”

  “North Eredor doesn’t have queens,” I pointed out.

  He grinned, seeming to light up the dingy room with the force of his smile. “It does now.”

  * * *

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  Also by Christine Pope

  TALES OF THE LATTER KINGDOMS

  All Fall Down

  Dragon Rose

  Binding Spell

  Ashes of Roses

  * * *

  THE WITCHES OF CLEOPATRA HILL

  Darkangel

  Darknight

  Darkmoon (Coming August 2014)

  * * *

  THE GAIAN CONSORTIUM SERIES

  Breath of Life

  Blood Will Tell

  The Gaia Gambit

  The Mandala Maneuver

  * * *

  THE SEDONA TRILOGY

  Bad Vibrations

  Desert Hearts

  Angel Fire

  Also available in an omnibus edition at a special low price!

  About the Author

  Christine Pope has been writing stories ever since she commandeered her family’s Smith-Corona typewriter back in the sixth grade. Her work includes paranormal romance, and fantasy and science fiction/space opera romance. She now works as a freelance editor and graphic designer in addition to writing fiction. She fell in love with Sedona, Arizona, while researching the Sedona Trilogy and now makes her home there, surrounded by the red rocks. No alien sightings, though...not yet, anyway!