Soulbinder (Book 3)

by Ben Cassidy

  Madris rose to her feet. “Eru grant you success, Kendril.”

  Kendril glanced longingly over at the brace of pistols that lay on the table. “Somehow I think I’m going to be missing those before this night is over,” he muttered.

  He turned, then leapt onto the back of the vehicle.

  “Push on three. One, two—”

  The three men heaved, grunting as they shoved their backs and arms against the side of the carriage.

  The huge vehicle tottered a bit, then settled down into the ice and snow again.

  Joseph took a step back, panting hard. “It’s stuck good.”

  Tomas glanced up at the glowering sky. Snow was falling fast and heavy, driven by the unrelenting wind. “Looks like a storm is brewing.”

  Kendril slipped in a patch of ice and gave a strangled curse. He climbed back to his feet. “Sleds might have been a good idea, Joseph.”

  “Sorry,” the scout said sharply, “though I doubt we’d have had time to build them anyways.”

  Tomas looked over wistfully as a sleigh jangled by the street they were on. “No time to switch out now. The wheels will have to do.”

  The window of the carriage’s cab slid open, and Maklavir poked his head out. “I say,” he said cheerfully, “how much longer will this take?”

  Kendril gave him a hateful look. “It would go a lot faster if you got out and helped push.”

  Maklavir glanced up the city street at the passing groups of people. “Don’t be stupid, Kendril,” he said in a lowered voice. “A nobleman does not get out and help his servants with manual labor. How would that look?”

  Kendril bit back a nasty response. “Then you and Kara could at least get out of the carriage to make it lighter.”

  Maklavir tilted his head up at the threatening sky. “And stand out there in the slush and falling snow? I think not. How would it look if we arrived at Baron Dutraad’s like a couple of disheveled cats?”

  “Better than arriving with a broken nose,” Kendril mumbled.

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing,” said Kendril wearily. “We’ll have this carriage back on the road in a couple minutes, Maklavir.”

  “Splendid.” He shut the window.

  Kendril glanced over at Tomas and Joseph.

  Both men were soaked with melted snow, their faces and hands red raw from the cold.

  “Next time I get to be the nobleman,” Joseph spat.

  “What was all that about?” Kara leaned forward, trying to see out the carriage window.

  Maklavir leaned back against the cushioned seat of the carriage. “Nothing. Just a little trouble with the wheel. I’m sure they’ll have it worked out soon.”

  The whole carriage shifted slightly, and there was a chorus of grunted curses from outside.

  “Shouldn’t we help?” Kara reached for the door handle.

  Maklavir laid a hand on her arm. “A lady does not exit her carriage to help the riff-raff.”

  Kara gave him a piercing look. “Maklavir, they sound like they could use some help out there. And I’m not a lady.”

  “You are for tonight.” The diplomat gave her a wink. “Besides, it’s annoying Kendril to no end, and that certainly makes it worthwhile.”

  Kara smiled and shook her head.

  Maklavir shifted uncomfortably. “I…got something for you.”

  The redhead looked at him in surprise. “Got me something? What do you mean?”

  He reached under the seat and pulled out a wrapped parcel. “Nothing much. It’s just…I know the last few days have been hard for you, and I, well—” Maklavir gave an awkward shrug. “Just open it.”

  The carriage shifted again, and there was an elated shout from outside as it righted.

  Kara took the gift, turning it over in her hands. She looked up at Maklavir. “I didn’t know we were buying presents for each other.”

  “It’s not a pres—look, just open it, will you?”

  Kara hesitated a moment, then tore away the wrapping.

  It was a large, heavy book.

  She looked up at Maklavir in dismay. “Why would you—? You know I can’t—”

  The finely-dressed man raised a hand in defense. “It’s a reading primer, Kara.”

  She stared at him.

  With a crack of the reins the carriage jolted forward once again, the wheels hissing through the snow-covered street.

  “Took them enough time,” Maklavir muttered.

  Kara opened the book, flipping the pages carefully as if they were made of glass. “This is a…reading primer?”

  “You do remember our deal, don’t you? The one we made in that Eru-accursed temple?”

  She stopped flipping. “I thought you had forgotten about that.”

  “Well, things have been pretty busy since then.” Maklavir shifted across the carriage and sat beside the young woman. “I’m still willing to help you read, if you help me with lockpicking.”

  “The way things are going,” Kara said with a sly smile, “you may get a chance to learn firsthand tonight.” She looked over at him. “Where did you get this?”

  “In town.” Maklavir flipped to the first chapter. “Look, what say we start now? It’ll take a good hour or more to get to the Vines, especially in this snow.”

  Kara started to say something, then stopped. She nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Maklavir grinned. “All right. Just remember your side of the bargain. I expect some rigorous lockpicking sessions in the near future.”

  Kara leaned in and kissed the man lightly on the cheek. “Thank you, Maklavir. It’s a wonderful gift.”

  He cleared his throat. “Right. Now, let’s start with the alphabet—”

  “It’s like Balneth all over again.” Joseph whispered as he passed by the back of the carriage. He pulled up his collar against the vortex of falling snow.

  Kendril leapt down from the back of the vehicle, and looked around.

  The estate was surprisingly large. An iron fence surrounded the perimeter. The town house itself was three stories, almost the size of a country mansion.

  Light poured out of the front of the residence, streaming down the snow-covered steps. The sound of laughter, music, and hysterical frivolities poured out of the open front doors like a discordant orchestra.

  Kendril instinctively reached to his belt for the reassuring feel of a pistol handle that wasn’t there. He scowled, then tried to pull the cloak he wasn’t wearing around himself against the cold.

  A house servant stepped up to them, waiting politely at the bottom of the stairs. He glanced at the door to the carriage. “Gentlemen, aren’t you going to--?”

  Kendril stared at him for a moment, then nodded quickly. “Uh…of course.” He moved to the carriage, and opened the side door.

  Kara stepped up. She demurely held out a hand.

  Kendril paused awkwardly for a moment.

  Joseph moved forward and took her hand. “My lady.” He helped her down.

  She smiled sweetly at him. “Thank you, Jinn.”

  Maklavir emerged behind her.

  “I’m not holding your hand,” Kendril said under his breath.

  Maklavir stepped down, ignoring the Ghostwalker. He smiled at the servant. “I am Maklavir, and this,” he took Kara by the arm, “is my wife Kara. We are expected by Baron Dutraad.”

  The man nodded. “Of course, sir. If you will follow me?” He signaled to a handful of servants near the bottom of the steps, then turned and headed up towards the main house.

  Maklavir entwined his arms into Kara’s. “Shall we, love?”

  She beamed back at him. “Let’s.”

  They headed up together.

  Kendril glanced back down the drive that led out the gate back into the street. Another carriage was already rattling in behind them, a lantern bobbing at its front.

  Joseph wiped the snow away from his face, shivering in the cold wind. “Here goes everything,” he whispered to Kendril.

  The Ghostwal
ker nodded as he watched Kara and Maklavir disappear into the lighted chaos of the house. “They’ll be fine.”

  Another servant stepped in front of them. “If you’ll follow me, gentlemen, I’ll show you the servants’ entrance. You can unload your master’s baggage there.”

  Kendril stamped his feet against the cold. “We can hardly wait.”

  The house servant stared at him in confusion.

  Joseph smiled, clapping Kendril on the shoulder. “He has quite the sense of humor.”

  The man nodded. “This way, gentlemen.”

  “If you’ll wait just a moment, sir, I will announce you.”

  Maklavir nodded magnanimously. “Of course.”

  The servant disappeared inside the large double doors to the right of the house’s entryway.

  Kara stared in awe at the magnificent marble floor and decorated walls of the entrance. Glow-globes were fixed into the ceiling, lighting the whole hall. Gold glinted and gleamed everywhere.

  “Tuldor’s beard,” she said quietly. “Baron Dutraad must be even richer than the King of Llewyllan.”

  Maklavir kept his face forward, his arm still linked with hers. “Yes, well Llewyllan is one of the smaller countries in Rothland. The city of Vorten alone probably has a larger population.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Try not to look so awestruck. Remember, you’re a lady, Kara.”

  She took a breath. “A lady. Got it.”

  The doors opened, and a voice boomed out.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Maklavir.”

  The diplomat stood frozen for a moment, staring straight ahead.

  Kara glanced over at him. “Maklavir?” she hissed.

  He shook his head, as if clearing something from his vision. “Sorry. Let’s go.”

  They stepped together into the blazing light and dull roar of the great hall.

  “The name’s Gole.” The house servant moved quickly, weaving through the crowded kitchen. “The servant quarters, alas, are full. There’s room in the stables out back for you.”

  Kendril and Joseph struggled to follow him, bumping into countless scurrying servants. The din of clattering pots and pans, the mixed smells of delicious cooked foods, the stuffy heat, and occasional shouts overwhelmed their senses. Tomas was still outside, getting the horses and carriage taken care of.

  “The stable?” Joseph called out over the chaos.

  Gole stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. He turned with a casual shrug. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. You’re lucky there’s room for you at all.” He gestured to a pretty brunette in a maid’s dress. “This is Lillette. She can assist you for now.” He inclined his head. “Welcome to the Dutraad estate. I bid you both a good evening.”

  He charged off, yelling out more orders as he went.

  Lillette came over to them, wiping her hands on her apron. She smiled at the two of them. “There’s some stew in the back kettle there, bread on the counter if you’re hungry. Just help yourself. You’ll forgive me, but things are crazy here right now.” She twisted her head. “Tari, the custard flenshi don’t go out until the first dance. Leave them!” She shook her head. “Place is a bloody disaster.”

  Joseph shuffled uncomfortably, dodging back as a servant carrying a tray of glasses filled with razvodit whizzed by. “Thanks…we’ll just stay out of the way.”

  Lillette nodded. “If you need anything, just ask.” She looked over at Kendril with a smile. “Anything at all.”

  Kendril gave an embarrassed grin. “I don’t suppose we could get a peek at the big party upstairs?”

  Lillette gave one of the pots that hung over a nearby fire a quick stir. “Upstairs, to the left. Just don’t be seen.” She tapped the wooden spoon on the brim of the pot, and smiled again at Kendril. “I’ll see if I can rummage a couple of flenshi buns for the two of you when you get back.”

  “Thanks.” Kendril moved through the overcrowded kitchen, heading for the stairs.

  Behind them Lillette’s voice rose again as she threw out another stream of orders.

  “How is it,” said Joseph as soon as they were out of earshot, “that women always flirt with you?”

  Kendril headed upwards. “I guess it’s just my natural charm.”

  “Maklavir. Delighted you could make it, old boy.” Baron Dutraad took Kara’s hand and kissed it. “And this must be your wife. A genuine pleasure.”

  Maklavir folded his hands behind his back. “Baron Dutraad, this is Kara. And believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

  Kara fluttered her eyelashes. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said breathlessly. “Maklavir has told me about everything you’ve done for him. I don’t know how we can ever thank you.”

  “Yes, well…” Dutraad released her hand. “I am glad to finally be able to meet you as well, Lady Maklavir.”

  “Please,” she said with a quick laugh. “Call me Kara, my lord.”

  “And it would please me greatly if you called me simply Dutraad,” the nobleman said with a smile. He glanced up, as if remembering something. “I should introduce you to my wife.” He beckoned with his hand to a woman standing nearby at table piled high with shortbread cookies and cinnamon wafers. “Mina!”

  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?”