Free The Oathbound by Mercedes Lackey

the sound of that.”
    “They seem,” he continued, toying with a lock of his curly, pale gold hair, “to be lovers.”
    “I like that even less.”
    “Wethes, for all your bold maneuvering in the marketplace, you are a singularly cowardly man.” Kavin put his imperiled glass safely on one of Wethes’ highly-polished wooden tables, and smiled to himself when Wethes winced in anticipation of the ring its moist bottom would cause. He stood up and stretched lazily, consciously mirroring one of the banker’s priceless marbles behind him; then smoothed his silk-velvet tunic back into its proper position. He smiled to himself again at the flash of greed in Wethes’ eyes; the banker valued him as much for his decorative value as for his lineage. With Kavin as a guest, any party Wethes held was certain to attract a high number of Mornedealth’s acknowledged beauties as well as the younger members of the Fifty. It was probably time again to grace one of the fat fool’s parties with his presence, after all, he did owe him something. His forbearance in not negating their bargain when Kavin’s brat-sister vanished deserved some reward.
    Of course, their arrangement was not all one-sided. Wethes would have lost all he’d gained by the marriage and more had it become known that his child-bride had fled him before the union was a day old. And now that she’d been gone more than three years—by law, she was no longer his wife at all. That would have been infinitely worse. It had been Kavin who had suggested that they pretend that Kethry had gone to stay on Wethes’ country estate. Kethry was unused to dealing with people in any numbers, and found her new position as Wethes’ helpmeet somewhat overwhelming—so they told the curious. She was happier away from the city and the confusion of society. Kavin was only too pleased to represent her interests with Wethes, and play substitute for her at formal occasions. They’d kept up the fiction for so long that even Kavin was starting to half-believe in Wethes’ “shy” spouse.
    “The Shin‘a’in will be no problem,” Kavin said soothingly. “She’s a stranger in this city; she doesn’t know it, she has no friends. All we need do is take your wayward wife when she’s out from under the swordswoman’s eye, and the Shin‘a’in will be helpless to find her. She wouldn’t even begin to know where to look. Although why you’re bothering with this is beyond me. Kethry’s hardly of an age to interest you anymore. And you have the connections you want without the burden of a real wife.”
    “She’s mine,” Wethes said, and the expression in his eyes was cold and aquisitive. “What’s mine, I keep. No one robs me or tricks me with impunity. I’ll keep her in chains for the insult she’s done me—chains of her own body. She’ll do to breed a dozen heirs, and they tell me no pregnant mage can work her tricks while so burdened.”
    Kavin raised a sardonic eyebrow, but made no further comment except to say, “I wouldn’t believe that particular peasants’ tale if I were you—I’ve had friends thought the same and didn’t live to admit they were wrong. Now, I suspect your next question was going to be whether or not the Shin‘a’in might be able to get a hearing with the Council. It might be possible—but who would believe a foreigner’s tale of abduction against the word of the wealthiest man in Mornedealth?”
    “Put that way, I see no risk of any kind to us,” Wethes put down the gold paper knife. “And certainly I wish above all to have this accomplished at no risk of exposure. There are enough stories about why I mew my wife up in the country as it is. I’d rather no one ever discovered she’s never been in my possession at all. But how do we get her away from her lover?”
    “Just leave that—” Kavin smiled, well aware that his slow smile was not particularly pleasant to look on, “—to me.”
     
    Kethry woke with an aching head and a vile