Forged Bonds (Binding Words Book 4)

by Daniel Schinhofen

  “Copper works best for water,” Sean replied. “The copper can be easily covered with another metal of your choice, though, and even decorated. Fr… Gertihs is the one who handles all of those deals.”

  “I have a question,” the only other man in the group asked. “Was it really a half-dozen men, or three dozen and a pack of hounds?”

  Sean’s eyebrow twitched, and his free hand clenched. “You’re referring to the attack on me and my wives?”

  “Yes.”

  Sean stared at the man for a long moment; the scars on his face spoke of a lifetime of violence. “It was eight men, four with crossbows and four without.” His voice was cold when he met the man’s eyes.

  “Honest. Good. I’m Thomas Babbitt, head of the city guard.”

  Sean let the anger ebb, but it simmered just below the surface. “A pleasure. How goes the investigation?”

  “Poorly, though we have found a dozen other men engaging in illicit activities on the side.”

  “I’m sorry that you’ve had to deal with that,” Sean said stiffly.

  “As am I. Not that it has to be done, but that it has been allowed to happen for so long. You’ve made a few enemies for cutting off their access to my men. However, that has made me indebted to you. I publicly acknowledge this debt.”

  Bloodheart raised an eyebrow, “If Babbitt is speaking of debts, then maybe I should reconsider my stance on you. It isn’t often that—”

  Babbitt grimaced, “If you call me by that stupid name, I’ll demand recompense, Bloodheart.”

  Bloodheart shook his head, “I will refrain from doing so.”

  Before anyone else could speak, a soft chime echoed throughout the room. Sean looked toward the source of the sound and saw a refined gentleman in a full formal butler’s uniform standing at the head of a set of stairs. “Knight Evan Sharpeyes with guest, Klein Denmur.”

  A group of younger men and women went to the base of the stairs, while a lot of the older people in the room turned their backs and continued their conversations.

  Sean looked at the two young men descending the staircase. Behind them, a strikingly beautiful woman trailed them, her dress the most risqué one he had seen at the party. Frowning, he pulled Mage Sight into his left eye and stared at the woman. Flickering red energy at her eyes, throat, and pelvis told him all he needed to know about her. Klein had a core of solid gray with deep mist floating freely through his body. Evan Sharpeyes glowed faintly with golden energy; it was not solid, but did infuse his entire body.

  With his right eye still seeing the world as normal, Sean was aware of Klein spotting him, as well as the nasty smile that grew on his face. Leaning in toward Evan Sharpeyes as they descended the stairs, he began to whisper. Sean wished the background noise was lower so he could catch the conversation.

  Sean quickly put his focus back on Babbitt. “Just so I don’t make any more gaffs, do you have a title I should use when speaking to you, sir?”

  “He’s Commander Thomas Babbitt of the Hearthglen Guard,” one of the women volunteered. “He hates that, though, and normally just goes by Sir Babbitt.”

  “I haven’t caught your names; please excuse me for asking,” Sean said, trying to open up the conversation more as he felt someone moving toward them with intent.

  “Excuse me,” came a soft feminine voice with enough weight to stop the conversation, “you are MacDougal, right?” The threads of energy behind the words flowed past Sean.

  “Hmm,” Sean grunted, turning to look at the woman. “Yes, I’m Sean MacDougal. Who are you, miss?”

  Ryann’s hand tightened on Sean’s arm when she felt the energy and looked at the woman. The woman’s sharp eyes caught the movement, and her smile widened slightly. “I’m called Delia, sir. I wonder if you have a moment to speak with me… privately.” The last word was full of the flickering red energy the woman had.

  “I’m sorry, Delia, but I’m busy speaking with the Dames and Knight here,” Sean said, giving her a fake but polite smile. “I’ll have to postpone any conversation. You do seem familiar to me, though... do you have a sister or sisters, perhaps?”

  Delia’s shock that he was not eating out of her hand was quickly covered up. “I had many sisters, once. I’m sad to hear we can’t speak. I’ll have to try again later. Please excuse me for interrupting you.” Turning on her heel, Delia left them and went straight toward Klein and Evan, both of whom were frowning when she left without Sean.

  “Takes a man with a strong backbone to resist her when she wishes to speak with them alone,” Babbitt grunted. “Somnia’s daughters are unique in that way.”

  “That must be why she seemed familiar,” Sean said, feigning ignorance as to who she might have been. “Odd that she said she used to have sisters, in that case.”

  “Delia left her mother’s care a while ago,” Mageeyes said. “The parting was... less than amiable.”

  “That would explain it,” Sean nodded.

  Ryann relaxed her grip on Sean’s arm. “I like her even less than Lilly and Felora combined.”

  “Noted,” Sean chuckled.

  “Dame Mageeyes, might I have a moment of your time?” Magus Giralt asked, coming toward them.

  “Of course, Magus. If you’ll excuse me?” she asked the others before walking away with Giralt.

  “Wonder what Giralt wants with her?” Babbitt grunted.

  “Excuse me,” a couple of other well-dressed people moved over to the group, “we noticed the new faces and had to come get introduced.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure,” Fredrick said. “Sean MacDougal, these are…”

  ~*~*~

  Sean sighed, “This is boring as hell. I’d rather be home holding you and the others.”

  “I agree,” Ryann said, “but the Lord and Lady haven’t arrived yet.”

  “Their son has been watching us most of the night,” Sean murmured. “Him and Denmur’s spawn.”

  “She’s been trailing them all night, too,” Ryann’s mutter held venom.

  “Probably looking to use him for what she can get since she left Saret.” Sipping the wine he had picked up, Sean looked to where Fredrick and Eva were still speaking with Magus Giralt. “I hope that bodes well for us.”

  “They normally don’t take this long to show up,” Ryan Watercaller commented, having joined them a while ago.

  “Something must be happening,” Italice murmured.

  The chime that had heralded Evan’s entrance to the party came again. This time, the butler stood to the side of a man and woman. Their pale skin seemed to glow in the soft light of the ballroom. Sharply pointed ears spoke of a more pure bloodline than Mageeyes’, though there was a soft sloping at the lobe that betrayed another heritage. With his left eye still holding Mage Sight, Sean was impressed at how solid the golden energy the couple had was.

  “Lord and Lady Sharpeyes,” the butler announced into the quiet room.

  “Thank you for coming to our party,” Lady Sharpeyes smiled at the room. “We will do the gifts first tonight.”

  “After that, we’ll be handling a matter that has weighed on me since the last gathering,” Lord Sharpeyes said with an edge, his eyes briefly going to his wife in annoyance.

  Lady Sharpeyes’ mouth thinned slightly at his words, but her strained smile stayed in place. “Yes, there is that. It might be delayed, depending on circumstances, husband.”

  “We shall see,” was all he would give. “Bring the gifts, and be ready to accept our gratitude.”

  With that, the couple descended the stairs side by side, but Sean noted the clearly missing element. The Lord and Lady did not hold hands, link arms, or show any outward appearance of affection to the other.

  Fredrick and Eva came over to Sean as the Lord and Lady came down to the ballroom floor. “If you are called forward, be as polite as you can,” Fredrick whispered. “Otherwise, watch how the others comport themselves and try to emulate them.”

  “Got it,” Sean murmured.

  �
��Denmur is here now,” Ryan whispered. “He came in from under the stairs when the chime sounded.”

  “Must have been speaking to Sharpeyes right up until they came in,” Fredrick said, looking troubled. “This might be bad.”

  “Why?” Sean asked.

  “I’m going to be called forward. Not for my gift, but for my actions at the last party.”

  Eva gripped his arm, “You don’t think…?”

  “We’ll have to wait and see,” Fredrick said, covering her hand with his own. “I’ll not be leaving the city without protest.”

  “Good. I’m not about to let you go, not now,” Eva said firmly. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at him. “We need to speak after tonight. I’m—”

  “Let us start with an upcoming person of interest,” Lord Sharpeyes proclaimed. “Otis Denmur, come forward.”

  Denmur strode into the space that surrounded the Sharpeyes. “Lord, my gift is part of an ongoing project. Happily, this part was completed yesterday.” Motioning to a servant, he waited as a box was brought forward and presented to Lord Sharpeyes. “I give you the dagger portion of the project.”

  The servant opened the box for Sharpeyes. Gazing into the box, Sharpeyes smiled, “A fine gift.” Pulling the sheathed blade from the box, he pulled the dagger free of the ornately jeweled mithril sheath. The moment the blade was exposed to air, a trail of fire enveloped the blade. “Enchanted with flame? Very nice indeed, Denmur.”

  “Thank you, Lord. The rubies set into the pommel will keep the enchantment burning for years.”

  A murmur of conversation sprang up around the room. Ryann leaned in toward Sean, using the voices to mask her whisper, “Showy, and not all that useful, if you ask me.”

  Sean did not reply, noticing instead that Sharpeyes looked their way. Careful not to meet his eyes, Sean looked around the room, watching the reactions of the others present.

  “This gift will be difficult to surpass tonight,” Lord Sharpeyes smiled. “Well done, Denmur.

  “I would like to call forth one who has showered me with very well-made gifts,” Lady Sharpeyes said, stepping on her husband’s moment. “Eva Silvertouch, come before me.”

  Eva let go of Fredrick’s arm and stepped into the circle as Denmur left it. “Lady, it is a pleasure to be before you again.”

  “You have had my interest of late. The fact that you keep bringing me unique gifts speaks well for you, and does endear me to your… troubles.”

  “I bring a gift not just from me today, Lady Sharpeyes, but from a new association that I’m a part of.” She gestured to a servant holding the items wrapped in black velvet. “On behalf of Forged Bonds, I gift you the newest enchantment to be found in the city. They are known as a shower and a faucet.”

  The servant revealed two pipes, both covered in mithril set with sapphires and decorated with an intricate scrollwork of stardrop flowers. The longer one had a large jeweled stardrop where the water would dispense. The faucet was almost the same, but on a smaller scale with smaller sapphires.

  “I have heard of these,” Lady Sharpeyes smiled. “Forged Bonds is said to have opened their bathhouse near the smiths and caters to everyone.” Her eyes flicked to Denmur, then back to Eva, “Almost everyone.”

  “We have unfortunately had to exclude a small number of people, those who have actively tried to hinder our growth.”

  “Bring me a bucket,” Lady Sharpeyes ordered, and one of the servants in attendance hurried away. “I have heard you have plans to open more of these bathhouses.”

  “Fredrick Gertihs is the head of our association, Lady. I would feel better if he spoke on those matters.”

  “Maybe when my husband calls for him,” Lady Sharpeyes replied. “For those of you who have not been keeping up, you’re going to see something unique. It was created here in the city, and not even the Quaditals have it yet.”

  A servant came forward, setting a ten-gallon bucket in front of the Lady. Lady Sharpeyes motioned the servant to her side and had them hold the shower. With all eyes on her, she turned the knob and water began to pour forth. Excited murmurs from those who had not known about them or doubted them began.

  “Wait,” Lady Sharpeyes said simply before she turned the knob off and turned the other one on.

  Steam rose as hot water cascaded from the shower. More people began to whisper excitedly to each other. Turning the knob off, she motioned the servant away, and another forward.

  “This one is just as exciting, and is supposed to be mounted to a tub,” Lady Sharpeyes said as the second servant held the faucet over the bucket. “It would make maintaining a hot bath far easier.” Both knobs were turned and light steam rose up from the water. “I shall look forward to trying these. It would explain the sudden urge of some people to bathe multiple times each tenday, up to every day, if the rumors are true.”

  “It is hard not to want to pamper oneself every night,” Eva smiled. “The hot water to ease tired muscles is so luxurious.”

  Lord Sharpeyes stared hard at Eva and the gifts, looking displeased. When his wife finally stepped back, his smile was back in place. “A fine gift, indeed. We still have more to receive, so let us proceed.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  The hour wore on and Sean knew his time was coming soon. Fredrick had just finished presenting Lord Sharpeyes with his own shower and faucet. The conflict on Lord Sharpeyes’ face was obvious to everyone as the gifts were examined.

  “This is a gift I had not expected tonight,” Lord Sharpeyes admitted as a servant took them away. “Sadly, it will not deter things.”

  “I hope you enjoy them,” Fredrick said, bowing before he stepped back to Eva.

  “I am out of gifts,” Lady Sharpeyes sighed. “I am however, quite looking forward to your last gift.”

  “Hmm. I do not expect much, not considering what I have heard,” Lord Sharpeyes snorted, “but we did invite him, and he did bring a gift with him. MacDougal, step before me.”

  “Good luck, Sean,” Ryan and Italice told him when he was called.

  Sean gave Ryann a kiss on the cheek before letting her arm go and stepping forward into the open space around the Lord and Lady. As he approached, he noted the servant bringing forward the small chest that the figures had been brought in.

  “Do you wish to preface this gift with any comment before we view it?”

  “Lord, you have been presented with a series of gifts over the last few parties. While I don’t know how well they compare to the wondrous gifts you’ve already been given tonight, I have brought the last few pieces to complete a set.”

  Sharpeyes eyes narrowed as the servant stepped forward and opened the chest for him. “What is this?”

  “As I stated, Lord, the last part of a set. If you would have your statue and the figurines of your animals brought forth along with a table, I will present them as they should be seen.”

  “Go,” Sharpeyes snapped at a servant nearby and two servants rushed off at his command. Looking back to Sean, a snide smile crossed his face, “I do not know what you believe you are going to present, but I will allow you to show all of us.”

  A shiver touched Sean’s spine and he knew something had gone wrong. A glance at Denmur and Klein showed the father and son to be snickering as they stared at him. Clamping down on the anger building inside him, Sean waited.

  A few minutes of silence passed before the two servants came in with a table and the figurines. With those arranged on the table, Sharpeyes motioned to the servant with the chest. Carefully pulling out shapeless metal, the servant set the lumps onto the table.

  “Well, MacDougal? What is it you were going to arrange?”

  Denmur, his son, and most of the room began to laugh. Sean met the Lord’s cold stare with eyes that were burning with anger and stepped forward slowly.

  “Someone seems to have damaged my gift for you, Lord.”

  “Oh, stop pretend—” Denmur began.

  “Quiet,” Lady Sharpeyes said softly, but t
he word sliced through Denmur’s remark like a knife. “MacDougal, to claim a gift was tampered with while in our care is no small thing. Would you like to retract that statement?”

  “No, wife,” Lord Sharpeyes snapped. “MacDougal said the words and will have to deal with the consequences. Now, shall we proceed with the insult of the gift first or with your slander?”

  “Neither,” Sean said as he came to a stop before the table. “I will return these items to their rightful state, as they were when they arrived here.”

  “We do not have days for you to Shape them into something even remotely worth our time,” Sharpeyes sneered.