Easy Betrayals Read Online Free Page B

now.”
    “I’m not a doppelganger,” Miltiades growled. “Now, come on! We don’t have time for this. I need your help to find her.”
    “Make the time,” Rings stated flatly. He slowly drew his axe from his belt. “I’ve had all I can stomach of shapechangers.”
    “How in Tyr’s name can I prove that I’m not a doppelganger?” Miltiades roared. “Stand here and not change my shape?”
    “Work a magic of Tyr,” Jacob suggested. The lean fighter circled wide, moving to leave himself plenty of room to wield his man-high great sword. Belgin noticed that the fighter had his eyes on the rogues as well as the paladin. “What of you two? Can you show that you’re not shapeshifters?”
    “Good,” Belgin said. “Don’t trust any of us. I’ll make a point of not trusting any of you, and we’ll all get on famously.” He turned back to Miltiades. “I don’t think we’ll need you to work a miracle, Miltiades. Just answer me this question: Where did we first meet?”
    “Doegan, of course,” the paladin answered.
    “Better than that, Miltiades. Exactly where and when?”
    With an annoyed look, Miltiades deliberately said, “We met in battle in the court of the fountain, two days ago. I fought Entreri until Noph interfered, lassoing us with his magical lariat.”
    “Good enough for me,” Belgin replied slowly. He took his hand from the hilt of his sword. “I don’t think Eidola could have known that. Now, what do you want to do, paladin?”
    “Wait a minute,” Rings said. “So we believe Miltiades is Miltiades. How does he know he can trust us?”
    “Tyr guides me,” the paladin answered bluntly. One by one, he studied Rings, Belgin, then Jacob. To his surprise, Belgin felt uneasy beneath Miltiades’s unblinking gaze, as if his darkest secrets were laid bare for the paladin to see. The tall warrior allowed his eyes to rest on
    Jacob a moment longer and then stated, “I see no evil in your hearts. You’re all who you say you are.”
    “Fine, fine, so everyone’s what they seem,” Jacob said. “Now what?”
    “We search the city for Eidola, house by house if we have to,” Miltiades replied. He sighed and leaned his warhammer against one wall, sitting on a windswept stone. “But first, I think we need to rest a short time. I thank you, Belgin—I’ve allowed anger to rule me for too long.”
    “Think nothing of it.” Belgin shrugged his satchel from his hip and collapsed to the ground, while his companions followed suit. He allowed himself a sparse drink of water and gnawed at a piece of dried sausage from his stores. Exhausted, he leaned his head against the cold stone. I hope she’s as tired as I am, he thought. Tyr knows it would only be fair. He laughed weakly at the unspoken prayer to a god he didn’t venerate, but the cloying sand caught in his throat. The vicious coughing fit left him helpless for several minutes, his chest aching abominably. Gasping for breath, Belgin tried to pretend he couldn’t feel the rasp in his lungs.
    “Are you I’ll?” Miltiades asked, studying him closely.
    “He’s from Edenvale,” Rings answered for him.
    “What’s that mean?”
    “It means that I’m dying,” Belgin said weakly. “It’s the damned bloodforges. Doegan has its fish scales… and lately the black malaise that incapacitated the warriors of the city. In Konigheim, it’s a weakness of the will or the mind… everyone knows a Konigheimer who’s snapped.”
    “Including Kurthe,” Rings muttered.
    Belgin nodded. “Some say Konigheimers have been known to grow a third eye. I don’t know about that, though.”
    “Edenvale’s curse is simple,” Belgin continued. “We just die young. That’s it. My father died at thirty three, my mother at thirty one. My grandsire, he lived to be forty-one. He was accounted lucky. Everyone pays the price for our kings’ toys.”
    Miltiades and Jacob stared at him in silence for a long moment. “How old are you now?” the paladin