The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

strength and emotions—even during her first ritual when Simeon claimed her virginity.
    Lanciar wondered if she’d indeed been a virgin or merely used her magic to create that illusion.
    You can’t trust a dark-eyed outlander. The oft repeated phrase burned into Lanciar’s mind.
    “I’ll leave when I accomplish my mission,” he reiterated.
    “You have met my daughter Maija,” Zolltarn continued as if Lanciar had not spoken. “A comely girl.”
    “She’s a good cook.” Lanciar wasn’t about to admit how beautiful he found the girl with her flashing eyes, bright smile, long legs, and lush bosom. He didn’t really mind her reprimands about his soldier-bred language. From that first night when she’d asked him to abandon his campsite and join the clan, he’d admired her.
    But the promise of a romp in her bed had remained an elusive taunt between them. All he wanted from her was a romp. A commitment for more would tie him to the clan and he did not want to stay with them any longer than necessary. He wanted his son free of Rover ideas and morals—or lack of morals.
    He sensed a trap in Zolltarn’s words and the girl’s seduction. And he’d witnessed almost no immoral conduct or indiscretions.
    “Maija has no husband. She has courted a number of suitable men from other clans but found none of them to her liking. Not all of the men are willing to follow me because I am a powerful magician and have ties to the Commune of Magicians. They know that once they mate with one of mine there is no escape. They remain part of my clan even if their bride dies.”
    “I presume, then, that the choice of mate belongs to the women in your clan.” Lanciar found himself edging away from Zolltarn, off the road, away from these people and their alien customs.
    “ ’Tis the way of the Rovers. Once she chooses, she must be faithful. Before she chooses, she must remain untouched. Upon occasion we have relaxed that rule and met with disaster. My eldest daughter Kestra died and her child was stolen from us because we sought a different solution to our needs. Never again.”
    “I’m surprised you have not pushed Maija to choose sooner, bring new blood, another man into the clan.”
    “Ah, but now she has chosen. And she will take your son into her household as soon as he is weaned.” Zolltarn stared directly at Lanciar.
    “I think I need a drink.”
    “Maija brews the best ale of all the Rover clans.”

    Eight black articulated limbs quested outward from the slime-coated, bulbous body of the spider. Vareena stared at the malevolent creature, frozen by fear.
    Poison dripped from the clacking pincers on the forward limbs. Its eyes, positioned near the joint of each leg, flashed demon red. The thing could easily enclose her fist within its eight arms.
    Her heart pounded as loud as festival drums. Cold sweat trickled down her back.
    The spider inched forward, tasting the air with each leg-tip, glowing as redly as its eyes.
    “Stargods protect me,” she whispered, trying to edge away from her stalker. The stone walls on three sides of her hard bed within the monastery stopped her retreat.
    The spider moved forward faster than she could edge away from it.
    Could she run for the doorway before it swung out on its web and latched onto her vulnerable neck?
    Surely Robb must sense her fear, hear her thudding heartbeat, and come to her rescue.
    The door remained stubbornly closed. The entire monastery was wrapped in the preternatural silence of the gloaming.
    The spider came closer.
    Panic propelled Vareena out of bed and across the room. She tugged at the door. It remained firmly closed and latched. She kicked it and bruised her toes. She pulled with both hands. It did not even rattle.
    Something heavy and hard landed on her hair.
    She screamed . . .
    And awoke in bed drenched in sweat.
    Cautiously, afraid to move lest she bring the spider upon her, she brought a wisp of witchlight to her fingertip.
    Search as she might, she could not find the spider. An empty and torn cobweb hung from the far corner of her cell. She’d thrown witchfire at it before claiming the room as her own.
    The sweat beneath her shift chilled rapidly. She needed to move or wrap the covers more tightly about her. But if she did that, she might disturb the spider.
    The door burst open. Marcus and Robb, both bleary-eyed with sleep-tousled hair stood side by side. Each carried a large ball of witchlight. The directionless light illuminated every corner