The Parallel Man by Richard Purtill Read Free Book Online Page B

saying that the man had disappeared, with Droste all but accusing Mortifer of kidnapping or worse.”
    “This Mortifer,” I said as casually as I could manage, om where does he come, of what Academy is he a member?”
    Benton chuckled. “By the Mercy, you’re right. If a man’s an academician there must be an academy about somewhere. Well, let’s see, must be on the fax here somewhere. Ah yes; Royal Academy of Life Sciences of Carpathia.”
    I nearly blurted out that if there were any “Royal Academy” in the land of Carpathia, I, the Prince Royal of Carpathia, should know of it; but I restrained my tongue. Whatever lies Mortifer had told he had at least used the name of my homeland in those lies and this gave me a reason to put the question I was burning to ask: “And where is this place Carpathia?” I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could.
    But Benton’s answer made little sense. “One of those little star systems out on the Tail, I think,” he said with a shrug. “One terranorm planet which went pretty well back to nature during the Wars of Unity. Fairly flourishing place, now, I believe—reasonable amount of trade. Would have thought that you’d know more about it than I, since you’re a star-trader. Shouldn’t be more than a few days’ flit from Home in a modern starship.”
    He was looking very slightly puzzled, a puzzlement that might turn to suspicion, and much as I longed to press my questions I shrugged and turned the conversation to his obsession, knowing that it would distract him.
    “Ah well,” I said, “can’t remember everything. I’ve forgotten already how many boars you told me you had.” He was off at once on questions and stories about hunting which lasted until his flying pavilion came to earth with a very slight jarring sensation. Out of politeness, I had not even been able to read further on the lettered sheet he had given me, but I folded it and shoved it in my pouch for future reading.
    The flying pavilion was grounded beside a sort of lodge, a rustic enough place but with some dignity. There were blue-capped serfs to meet us at the door and, to my joy, a blazing fire on the hearth in the great hall. Benton smiled at the pleasure I did not try to hide. “Try to keep up the old ways here,” he said. “I’d like you to try some of my venison, you’re hungry, and some Napa I have laid down here.” I agreed heartily since only the edge had been taken from my appetite by the snacks served at Flavia’s gathering. A table was set for us before the fire, but we had hardly-begun to eat when a slim green-clad figure appeared at the entrance hall, obviously feminine, despite red hair cut like a boy’s. She had a bow in her hand and a dagger at her belt. Benton rose to his feet with a smile. “Mirianne,” he said. “Nice to see you up here. Mirianne, this is, er, Casmir Thorn. Casmir, my sister, Mirianne, who laughs at my hobby but drops in on me when she needs a change from her usual pursuits.”
    “Pursuits is right,” said the girl. “Nice to be the hunter instead of the hunted for a change. At least the men you bring up here are interested in hunting animals rather than heiresses— usually. But welcome to Benton Hall anyway, Casmir Thom.” Her eyes met mine as her fingers rubbed the violet-colored circle on her earlobe in a gesture that seemed unconscious, but may have been meant to give point to her words.
    I grinned at her; there was something rather engaging about this forthright young heiress. “Why lady,” I told her, “I am not here to hunt for an heiress, only for a little sport with your brother’s boars. But I can see the attractions of—nobler quarry.”
    She laughed at that, and fell into easy conversation with her brother and myself. I asked what sport she had found with her bow, and from that the talk turned to archery. Before long we were shooting her hunting arrows at targets here and there in the hall, as men will do sometimes in a hunting