Parasite Soul by Chris Jags Read Free Book Online

garden of prize lettuces.
    “You have been offered the hand of a princess ,” she
hissed. Her eyes flooded with poison, and Simon couldn’t meet them.
“You would reject that offer, and ask for the hand of a servant ?”
    “If… if his Majesty accepts,” Simon stammered. “As I said, my
station in life… I dare not…”
    “You… ungrateful… provincial… whoreson!” Forgetting all courtly
protocol, Tiera stabbed an arched finger at Simon as though she were about to
incinerate him with a bolt of lightning. Her face now resembled a beetroot.
    “Tiera!” Minus said sharply, one hand raised. “Let us consider
this man’s counteroffer.” He leaned forward speculatively. “You say
you would be satisfied with the hand of this handmaiden?”
    “If… if she would consent.” If Simon could have crawled into a
ground squirrel’s burrow and curled there in the dirt and darkness, he would
have.
    The King leaned back in his throne, fingers steepled, a calculating
smile playing about his lips. “You would be willing to proclaim as much
before the people?”
    “Yes, Your Majesty.”
    “You will return to your inn while we reflect upon the matter.”
    “Father!” Tiera began, incensed. “Niu is my handmaiden,
I will not allow…”
    “Quiet!” King Minus barked, and Tiera, fuming, subsided. “As I
said, we shall deliberate.” He returned his attention to Simon. “You will
say nothing – not to anyone - until a decision has been made. Is that
plain?”
    “Yes, Your Majesty.” Simon didn’t need to be told what would happen
if he disobeyed this command.
    Minus waved his hand. A gauntlet clamped down upon each of
Simon’s shoulders and he was steered firmly from the throne room. He was
glad of his escorts, certain as he was that his legs were ready to give
out. He didn’t dare spare a parting glance for the Princess or the
foreign handmaiden. Had he gone mad? What had possessed him to make
a fool of himself in front of the most powerful people in the land? To
have offended them ?
    Well, he thought wryly as he fought to
control his churning stomach, I won’t be getting much in the way of sleep
tonight, unless it’s of the permanent kind . He imagined his broken
body bleeding into the refuse of the canal where it had been dumped, fodder for
rats, and shivered.
    Much of his trip back to the inn was a blur. There were more
people out and about now, but he couldn’t seem to see their faces. All he
could see was a hangman’s noose, or an executioner’s axe, or whatever awaited
him. The insult to the princess had been grave indeed, and he was a
damned fool if he didn’t think there would be repercussions.
    He thought his brain might start to boil, so he tried to refocus his
thoughts. Images of the eastern girl, Niu, began to flood his mind, relieving
some of the pressure. Had she bewitched him with some foreign
sorcery? He couldn’t otherwise explain his lapse in judgement.
While he supposed his recent determination to attack a dragon - with nothing
but a rusty old sword that he didn’t know how to wield - hadn’t been the finest
example of rationality either, at least he’d been pursuing a clear goal.
To have achieved that goal, where so many others had failed and then to throw
the reward away on a mad whim…!
    You choked , Simon thought. You
saw the princess and got frightened. Her otherworldliness, her station in
life; it was all too much for you. You reacted in fear. You were
more afraid of her than that dragon .
    Was that entirely true? He thought of the olive-skinned
handmaiden again. There was something about her, something Simon had
never felt before, neither in the presence of the prettiest girl in his village
nor a princess. Something which had stolen all reason from his mind at the
merest glance. Which bought him full circle, back to spell .
The young woman was clearly an enchantress. He’d heard of such things;
women who could bend men’s minds to their whims. Still, as Simon