Free Throne of Llewyllan (Book 2) by Ben Cassidy Page B

“Then what have they told you?”
    She stepped away, then turned her head back towards the nobleman. “We must proceed with the original plan,” she said in a hushed tone. “There is no other choice.”
    Bathsby’s face hardened for a moment. “All right,” he said at last. He glanced over at the raven in the corner. “Send your message, then.”
    “There is one other thing,” she said. She moved over to the cage door and opened it. “The Ghostwalker and his friends are dangerous. Too dangerous to be allowed to stay here. They must be dealt with.”
    Bathsby nodded. His face tightened. “You don’t think Kendril will join us, then?”
    Bronwyn reached in and tied a small slip of paper around the raven’s ankle. The bird flapped its wings in annoyance, crowing loudly. She turned back to Bathsby, her eyes flashing.
    “I know he’s a far greater threat to us if he doesn’ t then an asset if he does ,” she said smoothly. She stepped over to the veranda, and released the bird. It gave one last screeching caw, then flapped off into the night sky. Bronwyn cocked her head. “You’ve covered your tracks well enough, I assume?”
    Bathsby walked over to her. “I killed Montrose in the bandit camp myself. No one will ever know his story.” He took Bronwyn by the waist, and turned her around. One of his hands moved towards her face, and slid down through her thick black hair. “You really are beautiful, you know,” he breathed. A small smile formed on his face. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
    She smiled, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “To the future King of Llewyllan, long may he prosper.”
    He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. “And to his future queen, the most beautiful woman in Llewyllan.”
    Bronwyn laughed quietly, and kissed him again. She stroked his beard gently with her fingers.
    “This country needs us,” Bathsby whispered, his eyes intent. “You and I, together, can bring change to this nation. We will make Llewyllan strong again, a force to be reckoned with.”
    The young woman moved a finger up to Bathsby’s lips. “Shhh,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “Let’s talk of politics later, my lord.”
    The nobleman smiled, and pulled Bronwyn to him. “I agree,” he said.
    As one, they moved towards the bed, the moon shining brightly behind them.
     

Chapter 5
     
    “Maklavir?”
    Joseph pounded three times on the wooden door. A faint rustling came from within. “Maklavir?” he said again. He glanced behind him, but the hallway was empty.
    “Hang on a moment,” came the diplomat’s voice from within. There was the sound of a lock being slid back, then the door opened just wide enough for Maklavir’s head to peer around. His face was bleary and there were circles under his eyes. “Joseph? Tuldor’s beard, man, what time is it?”
    “Daybreak,” the scout replied. “Have you seen Kendril?”
    “No.” Maklavir squinted his eyes, trying to focus. “Daybreak? This isn’t the woods, you know. We don’t have to get up at the crack of dawn.”
    “Maklavir?” came a girl’s voice from within the room. “What’s going on?”
    The diplomat’s head disappeared for a moment. “Uh, nothing, my dear. Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a moment.” His head reappeared.
    Joseph smiled. “Busy night?”
    Maklavir groaned, rubbing his face. “You have no idea.”
    “I’m heading down into the city,” said Joseph with a smile. “Did you want to come?”
    “Ugh, not now.” He yawned. “I’m not even dressed.”
    “All right. I’ll see you later today, then.” Joseph scratched his beard thoughtfully. “Say hi to the girl for me.”
    “Her name is Palora, and—” the diplomat began. “Oh, never mind. I’ll meet you for lunch.”
    The scout nodded, holding back a smile. “Sounds good.”
     
    “Lord Whitmore? Come in, come in.” Bathsby waved to the young aristocrat as he pushed some papers off his desk.
    Whitmore walked into the office