HONOR BOUND (The Spare Heir) Read Online Free Page A

often agree.  I’ve dreamt of being a warrior for as long as I can remember.  I’ve studied tactics from the writings of some of the greatest leaders of the past.  This is something I want to do, maybe I can even do some good.”
    “But you’re a Prince.”  The confusion in Jeseph’s voice was obvious.
    “And you’re the son of a Lord.  Shouldn’t you be training to take you father’s place?”
    “My older brother will follow father.”
    “Right, and I have four older brothers.  I’m a spare—the spare heir as my brothers are fond of saying.  I’m not needed here, not by most.”
    “Sire, that’s not true.”
    “Jorem, my name is Jorem.  I’ve heard the whisperings at court my whole life.  Even the servants avoid me when they can.  ‘One less heir and we’d still have a queen.’   That’s not exactly the way I want to be remembered.  I need to be good at this,” Jorem held up the sword for emphasis.  “Really good.”
    Jeseph looked at Jorem as if he were trying to see what was on the inside.  “You’re serious?” He asked.
    “Yes, I’m serious.”
    “You’re not at all like your brothers!”
    “I’ll take that as a compliment and I’m sure my brothers would as well,” Jorem said with a laugh.  “So, will you help me?”
    “You mean treat you like any other trainee, complete with beating, bashing and abuse?” Jeseph asked with obvious doubt.
    “If that’s what it takes.  Just keep the bruises where my clothes will cover them.  Father tends to be a bit over zealous about protecting his family.”
    “Why not?” Jeseph shrugged.  “After all, how many guys get to whack a prince on a regular basis?  Let’s get back to what went wrong with that last move.  It should be a simple one, I mean it’s the same as the opening step in the hunting dance.”
    “I ummm… I don’t know how to dance.”
    “But you’re a Prince.”
    “Right, I guess I had better look that up in my scrolls of proper princely behavior.”
    “Okay, okay, I get it, no dancing.  Hey that gives me an idea.  I’ll work left handed and you mirror everything I do.  Kind of like dancing.”
    “What’s the worst that could happen?  I might fall flat on my, oh wait, I already did that.”
    An hour later Jorem’s arms felt like lead weights.  Sweat was running down his back and his hair was plastered to his face.  He had never worked this hard in his life.  Holding the wooden sword up took all of the determination he had.  Holding it steady, well, that wasn’t going to happen.  The sword tip was drooping again and his legs began to tremble with fatigue.
    “Enough!” shouted the weapons master.  “Ten times around the practice grounds, then back to your duties.”
    “What does that mean?” Jorem whispered to Jeseph.
    “Running. It’s even easier than dancing.  Put your sword back in the rack and let’s go.”
    Jorem was just finishing his fifth time around when the others had finished ten.  His lungs were burning and his legs felt like mush.  There was a pain in his side that made breathing next to impossible.  He was just starting to stagger a sixth time around the practice ground when a hand grasped his shoulder.  Turning, he found himself looking up into the face of the weapons master.
    “That will do for today.  Gather up your things and go see if the cook has something to quiet the beast I hear inside you,” said Gregorio as he turned Jorem toward the arena door and gave a light push.  “Tomorrow bring only your helm and sword.  No sense in hauling armor back and forth until you have need of it.”
    When Jorem lifted his bag of armor it seemed as if it had doubled in weight.  Thinking that perhaps someone was playing a joke on him, he looked inside the bag, but it only held his armor.
    “I can have a servant take that to your rooms if you would like,” Weapons Master Gregorio said.
    “I brought it down, I’d best take it back.  The servants are busy enough