Soul Magic by Karen Whiddon Page A

mistaken for another kind of woman.”
                  The insult, though indirect, hung in the air. 
                  Instead of taking offense, Alanna straightened her shoulders and gave a regal nod.  “I will provide my own chaperone,” she said.  “One of my own women from my home travels this way even now.”
    Geoffrey shared a skeptical look with his men.  “You do not have time.  We leave this night.  Now.”
    She lifted her chin.  “She is already on her way.”
    He scratched his head.  “By what means?”
    “Magic.”  Alanna did not smile as she said the word.  No doubt she knew none would believe her.  A chill ran down Geoffrey’s spine.
    Most of the other men laughed.  But Geoffrey crossed himself, his expression hard. 
    Darrick cursed.  “Enough of this.  How long until your woman arrives?”
    “How would she know?”  Geoffrey spread his hands.  “She has no way of knowing.”
    The other two ignored him.  “Her arrival should be within minutes.”
    “Good.”  Darrick raised his voice.  “Alanna’s woman will arrive momentarily.”
    “We have no time,” Geoffrey protested. 
    Alanna glared at him again.  “As I said, my cousin Sarina should be here any moment.”
    Geoffrey wondered if she meant to conjure the woman from the night air.  He’d met Sarina once.  Vaguely, he remembered her cousin as a gangly young woman, all legs and elbows.  Hell of a chaperone.
    Some of the men looked dubious, a couple eyed Alanna with suspicion.  Geoffrey tugged at his ear, a nervous habit he’d been, despite numerous attempts, unable to defeat.
    They all waited, as though they expected her woman to appear in front of them.  No one spoke.  Darrick and Alanna avoided the other’s gaze, a fact which gladdened Geoffrey’s heart.  Now the woman would be proved a liar.
    “Does she ride alone?” Bart finally asked, breaking the silence.
    “Listen.”  She gestured at the broken wall. 
    They all did as she asked. 
    Geoffrey heard nothing, save the steady thump of his heart.  Into this quiet came the clip-clop of hoof beats outside the ruined wall.
    “Is anyone there?” a feminine voice called from outside the keep.  “Alanna, where are you?  Where is everyone?”
    Darrick sighed.  “Sarina.  Last we saw her she was still a gangly teen.”
    A moment later she rode around the corner and Geoffrey saw that little Sarina had grown up.  A cloud of unbound hair the color of raven’s wings floated behind her, kept in place only by a circlet of polished silver.  With her heart-shaped face and delicate bone structure, she bore a remarkable resemblance to Alanna, though her eyes were brilliant blue rather than green.  Both women had the same rare, haunting beauty that stopped men cold.
    All of his men, including Geoffrey himself, stared in open-mouthed awe. 
    Prancing, Sarina’s mount seem to glide up to them.  A second, rider-less horse, tethered by a single, shimmering rope, trailed behind.  Both snowy white palfreys were so alike they had to be twins.
    Such a well-matched pair would cost the earth. “Welcome.”   Still unsmiling, Alanna greeted her cousin with a regal nod.  Then she turned to Darrick. 
    “May we go now?” she asked.  Her gaze slid to Geoffrey, who narrowed his eyes.  “I have my chaperone.”
    Why did no one ask how the woman had managed to reach them, riding alone and unprotected?  Geoffrey looked to Darrick, who had not yet given her full leave to go with them.  His leader had never been one to give in easily, especially not since they’d gone to fight the holy war.  But to Geoffrey’s dismay and disbelief, Darrick simply nodded once more.  He waved his arm, encompassing them all, even the women.
                  “Let’s go.  We ride for Morfran’s keep, to regain my lady mother and this woman’s