Arucard (Brethren Origins Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

maternal realm, required equally foreign customs, he kept his hair cut short and his face clean-shaven, true to his Templar ascendants.  And despite the King’s generosity, Arucard much preferred the simple, understated clothes.
    “I found it,” Demetrius stated proudly, as he pulled up a crude wooden stool and sat before the fire, whither the men gathered to toast—or rather roast Arucard’s impending nuptials.  “My grandsire wrote an oath when first he entered the military, and I am certain it is contained within these pages.”
    “What is so important about an old oath, brother?” Geoffrey shifted his weight, as he peered at the antiquated log.
    “History,” Morgan responded as he neared.  “We art the last of our generation and the first of our kind.  Never again will the Knights Templar sail as Templars, but neither will we sail quietly into the night, shrouded in deceit and disgrace.  We shall live on as the Brethren of the Coast.”
    “Precisely.”  With a snicker, Aristide clutched a pitcher and refilled the goblets.  “And we must never forget from whence we came.”
    “Especially as we face the future.”  Given fate posed a far more dangerous prospect than his past, Arucard lifted his chin and sighed.  “And all of its uncertainties.”
    “When dost thou wed?”  Morgan made a pitiful attempt at concealing a smile, and Arucard had the sudden urge to punch him in the nose, as his brothers found sport in his predicament.
    “Tomorrow,” Arucard replied, as a chill settled in his chest, and he fought nausea.  “In the morrow.”
    “So soon?”  Geoffrey rolled his eyes and whistled in monotone.  “Hast thou seen her?”
    How had he known to expect that particular query?  Arucard shook his head.  “I have not.”
    “Thine is a precarious situation, brother.”  After flicking through the pages, Demetrius abandoned his search momentarily and raised his goblet.  “Better thee than I.”
    With a grin, Aristide ventured to ask, “Dost thou, perchance, know her name?”
    “Isolde,” Arucard replied with a shuffle of his feet.  “She is the daughter of a nobleman, or some such.”
    “Oh, no.  Not a pampered princess.”  Unaware that he had just voiced Arucard’s chief concerns, Morgan frowned.  “As it is safe to assume she has not seen thee, let us hope she has a sense of humor.”
    “Let us hope she can cook,” Geoffrey said, as he tore a piece of bread from a loaf.  “As we art at thy command, and Demetrius has quite the appetite.”
    “Let us hope she is fair,” Arucard corrected.  “Else all shall be for naught, for I will sail to the end of the Earth to escape her.”
    His response garnered a chorus of laughter, and, for a scarce second, Arucard’s spirits lightened.  Yet the fact remained he was trapped in an arranged marriage he neither wanted nor welcomed.
    “How many babes dost thou intend to get on her?”  Oblivious to the discord he had just wrought, Demetrius flipped through the torn pages of the mangled tome.  “Five or six?”
    “Babes?”  And so Arucard returned to the plight foremost on his mind, as he swallowed hard.  Before he could beget children, he had to learn how to copulate.  While he was not ignorant of the physical requirements involved in the primitive act, he had no clue how to please a woman, and London was filled with dissatisfied ladies, as evidence by the unwanted attention he garnered during dinner at court.  “I-I have given it no thought.”
    “Well, thou hast better think about it.”  With an arched brow, Demetrius cocked his head.  “And what wilt thou do should the damsel fall in love with thee?”
    Flames crackled, and Arucard gazed into the blaze.
    Love ?
    A violent shudder rocked his frame, as he considered the daunting prospect.  Although he was quite familiar with the brotherly love upon which his knighthood was founded, he was entirely unfamiliar with the emotion as defined by the relationship between