Read Online Centyr Dominance by Michael G. Manning - Free Book Online

reasons. Small political fictions are a matter of
     convenience.”
    “You seem to have a lot of faith in your king. Are
     you close to him?” she asked.
    The Baron straightened slightly, “I am, and I am
     sincere in my desire to help you.”
    She could read the earnestness in both his posture and
     his aythar. “If he decides not to help, it will make my options more limited.”
    “Options?” Gerold raised one brow, “Do you mean
     breaking into his home, or storming the castle at his ancestral estate? I
     thought it was my gender that always thought of using violence first?”
    “I think I could manage something subtler than that.
     My intentions are peaceful, but don’t mistake me, I will use force if it
     becomes necessary to free my father,” said Moira, trying to put steel into her words.
    Gerold glanced down, examining his well-trimmed nails,
     “You don’t seem the type.”
    “I’m not,” she admitted, “but I have seen blood. I
     won’t shy from it if I can save my father.”
    “So what course will you choose?”
    “I would take your advice, but I brought no attire
     suitable for meeting royalty,” said Moira, challenging him with her eyes.
    Gerold smiled, taking her hand in his, “Then we shall
     have to remedy that.”

Chapter
     6
    “I don’t like this,” said Gram for perhaps the fourth
     time.
    Moira patted his shoulder sympathetically, “That’s too
     bad.”
    “I don’t trust that greasy lordling,” he added for
     emphasis.
    “You’re very wise,” she agreed.
    “Stop patronizing me,” he complained.
    “Then stop whining,” she shot back. “We’ve been over
     this several times now.”
    “I don’t understand why we are waiting here. You
     should have an escort.”
    “Baron Ingerhold will be escorting me. You don’t have
     any clothes suitable for the occasion,” she explained patiently—again.
    “You didn’t either,” grumbled Gram.
    “Gerold didn’t have any clothes to fit you,” she
     returned.
    “And yet he had a dress that would fit you, doesn’t
     that seem a little odd? What sort of man keeps a house full of women’s
     clothing?”
    “It was his sister’s dress, and it’s much easier to
     take in a little fabric than it is to try and create extra where none exists.
     You’re twice the size of any man we’ve seen. His tailor would have to be a
     mage to make one of his shirts fit you,” chuckled Moira.
    “As your knight, I could wear my armor, then my
     clothing wouldn’t matter,” suggested Gram.
    She frowned at him, “You can’t bear arms when meeting
     a king, and you can’t wear your armor without having Thorn out. Besides, do
     you realize what you look like in that armor? It’s unworldly. You’d scare the
     daylights out of everyone who saw you. That’s not the sort of impression I’m
     hoping to make.”
    “Don’t you have anything to say?!” asked Gram, looking
     at Chad in exasperation. “Surely you can’t agree with this plan?”
    The older man took a slow sip of his brandy. Lowering
     the glass, he held it casually in one hand before replying, “I made meself a
     promise a long time ago, boy. I don’t argue with stupid.”
    Moira glared at the ranger, but Gram pounced on the
     remark, “See! Even he thinks this is a dumb idea.”
    Chad held up a hand, “Let me clarify that. She’s
     goin’ ta do what she wants. That’s clear enough. She’s not exactly
     defenseless either, but if somethin’ happens an’ she don’t return, we’ll go
     straighten things out with His Royal Majesty.”
    “What does that mean, precisely?” asked Moira.
    Chad smiled, “It means ye best be careful. Dunbar
     wouldn’t do very well without a king.”
    “That would start a war,” she countered.
    “Assumin’ there was enough of ‘em left to make an
     army,” noted the hunter. “The boy here might take a while, but he could
     probably slice his way from one end of this backwater nation to the other. An
     that ain’t even