HONOR BOUND (The Spare Heir) by Michael G. Southwick Read Free Book Online Page A

advisors looked on with disinterest.
    King Halden was tall with broad shoulders, the image of power and authority.  His dark hair was thinning only slightly, with touches of gray on the edges.  The resemblance of Jorem’s older brothers to the King was obvious.  Jorem, on the other hand, had a smaller build.  Often he had been told that he looked like his mother.  Jorem had seen the pain in his father’s eyes whenever anyone compared him to his mother.  That was when he had realized that he would never be as close to his father as his brothers were.  It was difficult to accept at first but after a while it didn’t hurt so much.
    “Weapons Master,” the King said, his voice easily carrying to the extent of the hall.
    Weapons Master Gregorio stood up at one of the tables near the King, “Yes, Your Highness?”
    “Prince Jorem began his training with you today.  What say you of his skill?”
    Gregorio paused a moment as if considering his words.  “ Great ,” thought Jorem.  “ Announce to the entire kingdom that the King’s youngest son is a bumbling idiot who should be kept away from sharp pointy objects .”  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d disappointed his father.
    “He has unusual metal for one so young, Your Highness.”  Weapon Master Gregorio’s voice cut into Jorem’s thoughts.  “His judgments are sound if a bit unsure.”
    “Yes, well, do what you can for him,” the King said as if discussing a lame horse.  “If nothing else a bit of physical training should reduce the number of accidents in the castle.”
    The King turned to face the table where Jorem’s brothers sat.  Finding only four of his five sons, the King scowled.  Jorem hunched a little lower in his chair.
    “Where is Jorem?” the King asked in an angry tone of voice.
    Jorem winced when the King called his name.  “ So much for being inconspicuous .”  “Here Father,” he said as he stood.  He could feel the heat of his face coloring as everyone in the room turned to look at him.
    “Ah, there you are.  I thought perhaps you were locked away with that confounded wizard again.”
    Jorem gritted his teeth.  He hated it when anyone belittled Pentrothe, especially when it was his father.
    “When last I saw Pentrothe he was discussing something with the Lady Dragon Mage Zensa.”
    The King flinched slightly at the mention of the Dragon Mage.  Even the King knew better then to speak badly of a Dragon Mage.  Getting the most powerful mages in the land irritated with you was well known to be bad for your health.
    “Very well then,” Jorem’s father blustered in an attempt to regain control of the situation.  “See that you mind the weapons master.  I trust your brothers are helping you with your training.”
    Jorem glanced at his brothers and saw their warning looks.  He could read their thoughts as if they had been shouted at him.  ’Betray us and you may not see tomorrow !’  “My brothers are as helpful in my weapons training as they have been in all aspects of my life.”  Sometimes telling the truth in just the right way was far more effective than a lie.
    Jorem’s father opened his mouth as if to say something more.  Then his mouth closed and his lips pressed together.  He looked at Jorem for a moment more, nodded his head and took his leave of the hall.
    When Jorem sat down to finish his meal, he found the family he’d been dining with looking at him as though he had transformed into a purple frog.  Em’s eyes were bulging.  She began babbling an apology, something about speaking to a “Prince” about fish when Pell, the older of the two boys, blurted, “Do you really know a Dragon Mage?”
    Eager to avoid another round of “Princing,” Jorem pounced on the subject.  “Indeed, I do.  She comes to visit a friend of mine, the wizard Pentrothe.”
    “She?” asked the girl next to Pell.  “I’ve never heard of a Lady Dragon Mage.  What’s she like?”
    Ignoring their