Read Online Raine: The Lords of Satyr by Elizabeth Amber - Free Book Online Page A

then, the bishop came running up behind the group, out of breath, causing a brief cessation of conversation. Catching Raine’s eyes on him, he blushed like a schoolgirl.
    Raine had forgotten him until now. Surprisingly, the loquacious bishop hadn’t made his presence or his opinions known in the lecture hall.
    “I believe my favorite was the suggestion that live toads should be buried beneath each grapevine to leech the phylloxera from the soil,” someone joked.
    “What about the idea of bringing in Venus flytraps to snap up the pests,” another chortled.
    “No! Are you forgetting the best of them all? That young choirboys were to be sent in to piss on our vines.”
    Everyone save Raine and the bishop burst into gales of laughter.
    “That was my suggestion, sent in to the French a month ago,” the bishop protested. “I firmly believe the acid in the urine would act as a deterrent.”
    “Not to mention the stench,” someone else muttered.
    “It’s an illogical suggestion,” said Raine. “They all were.”
    “And have you a better one?” asked the bishop.
    Raine shot him a stern glance. “Hybridization, as I described in the lecture.”
    “Didn’t you hear?” another man piped up. “He was brilliant on the subject. Convinced me that the breeding of vitis vinifera with resistant species is the way to go.”
    “I must beg your pardon,” the bishop demurred. “I took myself off at times during the lecture due to momentary indigestion. What was the gist?”
    “Satyr posited that creating a resistant vine is the best hope for a cure,” someone explained.
    “Oh?” The bishop raised his brows in a way that asked him to elaborate.
    “Thus far, my experiments with cross-pollination of blossoms of different species of the same genus have resulted in a hardier vine,” Raine told him. “However the taste of the grape is still not satisfactory.” It was an unusually lengthy explanation for him.
    “Well something must be done,” someone else insisted. “Two-thirds of Europe’s vines have been felled. Can you imagine? It’s only a matter of time until it reaches us. We all remain under a real threat until a practical cure is found.”
    “Yet the Satyr vineyard has been spared,” the bishop said carefully.
    Quiet fell. Raine could easily discern the direction of his companions’ thoughts. Everyone knew the rumors. His former wife had helped to spread them, claiming he and his brothers wielded some sort of magical force that protected their lands and them from harm. It was true.
    Fortunately his ex-wife hadn’t convinced many. And rarely did anyone go so far as to bring up the matter in his presence. He and his brothers were wealthy and powerful, and it was wise to keep their favor.
    “We had an outbreak,” Raine confessed, drawing all eyes.
    “And?” someone prodded.
    “The affected plants were routed and the area burned,” said Raine.
    It was only partially true. The Satyr vineyard had in fact escaped an attack. A relation of Nick’s FaerieBlend wife, Jane, had intentionally brought in the pest. But it had been she who’d helped eradicate it before it had felled their vines. And them.
    For the grapes were not simply a hobby or a means of earning a livelihood for his brothers and him. The sap that flowed through the vines was entwined with the blood that flowed in Satyr veins. Healthy vines would ensure his brothers’ children’s legacy. Healthy vines would allow his brothers and him to live on. Healthy vines would ensure that the secret aperture between ElseWorld and EarthWorld that was hidden on Satyr land remained secure.
    The bishop hurled a proclamation. “Perhaps this plague was sent from the heavens as judgment for man’s sins of overindulgence. I also suggested that processions of the pious might weave through the vineyards of God-fearing believers slinging incense. Did the French consider that?”
    “Men of science must scoff at such nonsense,” said Raine, uncaring that he might