Oath of the Brotherhood by C. E. Laureano Read Free Book Online

Niamh’s lips into a thin line belied her practiced tone. Her eyes slid over him before she turned her attention back to her own wine goblet.
    Gainor pushed himself away from the table and settled into the empty seat on Conor’s other side. “Don’t mind her. We mere mortals are beneath her notice. Now, you don’t need to learn everyone’s name right away, but I’ll at least tell you who to hide from.”
    Gainor waited for the last servant to move away, then attacked the sumptuous-looking food loading his plate. Conor picked at the food while Calhoun’s brother pointed out various guests.
    “That right there”   —Gainor indicated a handsome young man with night-black hair   —“is Keondric Mac Eirhinin, lord of Rathmór, Faolán’s largest holding besides the king’s. His clan has always supported Mac Cuillinn even though Clan Eirhinin has royal blood. He’s the wealthiest man in Faolán besides Calhoun.”
    “So should I avoid him or grovel before him?”
    “Don’t worry. He’s far too rich and important to be bothered with the likes of you.”
    Conor grinned. He picked out a hard-looking older man with graying hair and sharp features. He reminded Conor of Galbraith’s lords. “What about him?”
    “Good eye. Avoid him. He hates everyone except Niamh. He’s had designs on her for years.”
    “But he’s old enough to be her father!”
    “His son’s old enough to be her father. All the same, don’t get cornered by him. Lord Duggan has a terrible temper.”
    “Duly noted.”
    Conor’s plate looked more appetizing as his stomach unclenched, the unexpected empathy lifting his spirits.
    He scanned the room again, and his eyes fell on a girl he was sure had not been there moments before. She was unremarkable but for a mane of shiny hair that fell in a sheet around her shoulders. Her pale green silk gown clearly hadn’t been made for her   —it hung off her small frame and clashed with the honey color of her hair. She glanced in his direction, and their eyes locked. Her gaze pinned Conor in his seat. A chill, not altogether unpleasant, rippled over his skin.
    “Who’s that?” he choked out, finally daring to break the connection.
    Gainor followed Conor’s gaze. “Aine, our half sister. I hadn’t thought she would attend.”
    “I didn’t know you had another sister.”
    “Our mother married an Aronan chieftain after our father, the king, died. We hardly knew Aine, but since both her parents have passed, Calhoun invited her to live at Lisdara. I’ll introduce you tomorrow. You’re of an age, I think.”
    Conor nodded mutely, his mind returning to the odd sensation that stretched between them. Was he so naive about womenhe could be struck speechless by two of them in the same evening? No, he had been taken by Niamh’s beauty, but this was something completely different. He felt as if he knew Aine, even though he was sure he had never seen her before tonight. He dared another glance in her direction, but her place was now vacant.
    For the rest of the meal, Gainor entertained him with witty stories about other feasts and carefully unnamed guests, though the chill emanating from Niamh was almost palpable. She’d probably expected far more from the son of a Timhaigh king. He could hardly blame her for being disappointed. He fell short of his own expectations most of the time.
    The noise in the hall died abruptly as a man dragged a chair to the foot of the dais. He was unassuming, dressed in well-made but drab clothing, his dark hair touched with gray. Only when he produced a stunning walnut harp did Conor realize he was not a servant. Anticipation fell heavily in the hall, the silence unbroken even by the rustle of clothing.
    “The bard, Meallachán of Killary,” Gainor whispered.
    Conor barely heard him. He had never dreamed he would be sitting a handful of feet away from the most celebrated bard in Seare.
    Meallachán took his time tuning the harp, then began a plaintive melody that