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

felt both familiar and wondrously new, his fingers flying over the strings. When he began to sing in a mellifluous tenor that enriched and deepened the ethereal sound of the harp, Conor at last understood the reason for the bard’s renown. Calling both Conor and Meallachán musicians was like classifying both a raindrop and an ocean as water.
    The melody washed over him as his eyes drifted closed. His heart ached at the sheer beauty of the music, and his fingers itched to take up a harp and join its voice to the harmony. Hesettled for committing each note to memory with the hope of later reproducing even a fraction of that wondrous sound. When the last notes died away, he opened his eyes in time to see Gainor wipe tears from his cheeks.
    Conor met the gaze with his own blurred eyes, and the king’s brother smiled sheepishly. Even Niamh looked moved. As the bard launched into a folk tune meant to break the melody’s spell, Conor glanced down the table and saw Calhoun watching him thoughtfully.
    The king gave him a slight nod, then turned his attention back to the bard, leaving Conor to wonder exactly how much of his soul he had bared on his face when he thought no one was looking.

CHAPTER SIX
    “The Mac Cuillinn has invited you to breakfast in his chambers.”
    Conor rolled over and rubbed his eyes. He had slept deeply and dreamlessly for the first time since leaving Balurnan, but he still felt tired. Sunlight already cast kaleidoscopic patterns through the stained-glass window.
    “I’m to dine with Calhoun? Why?”
    Dolan fixed Conor with a hard stare. “He’s the king. He needn’t explain himself.”
    Conor threw back the blankets. “Something understated then. Best to show a full measure of humility.”
    Twenty minutes later, dressed in a simple tunic belted over a saffron-dyed linen shirt, he followed a servant through the maze of hallways to the opposite side of the keep. When they came to a closed door at the end of the corridor, the servant knocked lightly and pushed the door open. Conor took a halting step inside.
    The king and his three siblings sat at a small, rectangular table near the windows. Calhoun glanced up and waved casually at an empty seat. “Conor, come. The tea’s getting cold.”
    Conor wordlessly slipped into the vacant seat beside Niamh, directly across from Aine. Calhoun nudged the earthenware pot in his direction before he resumed his conversation with Gainor about the honey production in Lisdara’s hives, but neither girl gave any sign of awareness of his presence.
    His ears burned as he poured tepid liquid into an empty cup. He clearly didn’t belong here. Why had Calhoun invited him if no one was going to even acknowledge him? To his relief, several servants chose that moment to arrive with their breakfast: warm oatcakes with honey and butter, poached fish, and fried quail eggs. At least if he was eating, he wouldn’t be expected to make polite conversation.
    Calhoun looked up from his conversation as if seeing him for the first time. “Conor. Have you met my other sister, Aine?”
    Aine’s gaze flicked to Conor’s face. Her eyes were the same quicksilver gray as Niamh’s, dark-lashed and intelligent. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. She was not nearly as plain as he had first thought. Then he remembered Calhoun’s question and stammered out, “Uh, no, I haven’t had the pleasure. My lady.”
    Aine dipped her head and offered a reserved smile before returning to her meal. Calhoun looked between the two of them with a thoughtful expression. The Mac Cuillinn was far too perceptive.
    “I like to breakfast with my family when I’m at Lisdara,” Calhoun said. “You are not obligated to join us, but know you’re welcome at my table.”
    Conor swallowed. “Thank you, my lord. You’re very generous.”
    “Not at all. Now, there’s a matter we must discuss.”
    Conor’s heart beat harder at the ominous statement, but he kept his expression blank.
    “We value education