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"Then don't. Just let it be."
"You're talking in circles."
Reist averted his eyes, lowering them to the table. Go evict Berneen and let
me be. This conversation is heading in a direction I'm not ready to go yet."
"So be it. Regina left the room, wondering what to do with Berneen.
* * * *
Malthus paced his study, fuming, hands clasped behind his back. The thanes had
been snubbing him ever since Kynyr hanged Clennan and declared himself king.
With all the mutual animosity between them, Malthus felt certain that Kynyr
would either hang or banish him. His pawns and allies gone, Malthus felt the
itch of desperation climb his back. Only a single mon remained alive of the
guardsmyn that Malthus once drank and played cards with: Eamon Sumner. Better
a single small pawn than none at all.
He went to the liquor cabinet, took one of his mismatched glasses out, and
sketched a spell on it. The rune appeared, glittered for an instant and melted
into the crystal surface, vanishing.
He closed the cabinet and turned as a knock on the door preceded Eamon's
arrival. Malthus gestured at a chair by the low table.
Eamon settled uneasily into his chair. You sent for me. What do you want?"
"Conversation. Would you care for a drink? Malthus opened the liquor cabinet,
took out the pair of mismatched glasses, and a bottle of wine.
"No, thank you. Eamon lowered his eyes.
"You never had any trouble drinking with me at the Striped Dog. Why now?
Malthus poured two glasses and settled across the table from Eamon.
"My being here doesn't look right."
"Let me worry about that. Do you still believe my sons should inherit?"
Eamon shrugged. Don't matter what I think. Kynyr is king."
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"True. Malthus pushed the spelled glass toward him. Drink. It's very fine
wine."
"I'd rather not."
Malthus lunged for Eamon's mind, only to be forced aside. His eyes narrowed,
and he noticed the edge of a chain around the lycan's neck. What's that
you're wearing?"
"This? Eamon grasped the chain and pulled it out. An eye carved from rowan
hung upon it. Had the priest bless it. All this talk of vampires has me
nervous."
"I can imagine. Malthus extended his hand. Can I have a look at it?"
"No. Eamon dropped the charm down his shirt again.
"You killed Lon Anglesey and wounded William Galloway."
"I was only obeying orders. That's all. Eamon pressed his hands together and
stared at them.
"I need your help. My sons need your help."
Eamon shoved himself off the chair. I'm not playing that game anymore."
Then he plunged from the room as if a devil rode his heels.
* * * *
Berneen Hamilton huddled on the sofa in the parlor of Clennan's suite. At
first she had been glad that he was dead. Then Reist came and took away the
servants. Terrified that they were coming for her next, she had been afraid to
sleep; afraid to emerge; afraid to run; afraid to be seen. Terror had
immobilized her with indecision.
The door opened and Jocelyn came in. Berneen had left it unlocked, because
locking it did not matter the soldiers would only knock it apart otherwise.
"Hello, Berneen. Jocelyn had a quaver in her voice. I see they didn't arrest
you either."
"Jocelyn. She acknowledged her in a dull voice, blinking at her through a fog
of weariness.
"No one will talk to me. You'll talk to me, won't you?"
"Why should I talk to you? Berneen shifted listlessly on the sofa, refusing
to look at Jocelyn.
"You loved my grandfather. Doubt flickered in Jocelyn's eyes. You were his
last mistress."
Berneen glanced at Jocelyn with a flash of temper. I hated him. I'm glad he's
dead."
Jocelyn recoiled in dismay, recovered in an instant, and slapped Berneen's
face. Slut. Stupid filthy slut."
Berneen snarled and haired over, barring her fangs at Jocelyn. Don't go
calling me a slut. You're no better than I am. Vertram's got a wife. You're
just his whore."
"I'm a Doherty!"
Jocelyn slapped her again and this time Berneen went for her, grabbing her
hair and yanking her head around.
With a yelp, Jocelyn shoved Berneen off the sofa; however, Berneen refused to
let go of Jocelyn's hair and they both tumbled to the floor.
Jocelyn landed atop Berneen, trying to pry her opponent's hand from her hair,
and slapping her with the other. Berneen's hand changed to claws and she raked
Jocelyn's face. Jocelyn shrieked, twisted away from Berneen, and scrambled for
the door, leaving Berneen with a fistful of hair.
Berneen gained her knees and lunged, catching the sash of Jocelyn's robe. She
jerked Jocelyn off her feet, straddled her, tangled her fingers in Jocelyn's
hair, and began banging her head against the carpets. I hated him! I hated
him. And I hate you too."
Jocelyn tried to crawl forward, but Berneen held on tight. Caterwauling at the
top of her lungs, Jocelyn seized the edge of the sofa, but only succeeded in
overturning it.
The door opened.
"Excuse me, ladies. If this is a private conversation, I'll be glad to leave
you to it."
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Berneen released Jocelyn and clambered off her shame-faced. No, Lyncoln, I-we
... uhm."
"I've always enjoyed watching a pair of bitches rolling around on the floor or
the bed for that matter having a good time."
Jocelyn got to her feet and headed for the door only to find her way blocked
by Regina.
"What's going on? Regina frowned, running her gaze from the bleeding
scratches on Jocelyn's face, to Berneen's blush, and Lyncoln's bemused smile.
What are you doing here, Lyncoln?"
"Rescuing Jocelyn from Berneen, I think. He chuckled. I was walking by and
heard the screaming, so I poked my nose in."
"That carpenter's castoff started it. Jocelyn shot Lyncoln a venomous glare.
And I didn't need your help. I was winning."
"Oh? Lyncoln raised an eyebrow at her. Is that why you were on the bottom
getting your head banged against the floor?"
"No one whips the Dohertys. She fled past Regina and out the door.
"What started it, Berneen? Regina fixed Berneen in place with a stern glance.
"I did, I guess. I told her how much I hated Clennan and she started slapping
me. She swayed and started to crumble.
Lyncoln caught her before she could fall, swept her up in his arms, and
cradled her. He studied her face. When's the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday morning. Berneen lost the battle with her emotions, and broke into
sobbing. I've been afraid to go out and no one's come to check on me. The [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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