Honor Found (The Spare Heir) Read Online Free Page A

tree and attacked him.  Jorem was so startled that he didn’t even manage to get his sword out before the attacker was upon him.  He blocked a sword stroke with his arm blades and spun around the attacker in an attempt to gain enough time to draw his sword.
    Something struck him on the back of his head that sent him sprawling.  Before he could regain his feet, he felt the point of a sword resting in the middle of his back.  He was going to die here and no one would ever know what happened.  Prince Jorem would simply cease to exist.
    “Always be ready for an attack.” Neth’s voice came harsh to Jorem’s ears.  “It can and will happen when you least expect it.”
    The touch of the sword at his back went away.  Getting to his feet, Jorem turned to face the lady mercenary only to find her gone.  Without so much as a whisper of sound she had disappeared into the forest.  Rubbing the rapidly forming knot on the back of his head, Jorem continued his trip up the hill. 
    Twice more she attacked as he made his way up the hill.  Both times she appeared, and disappeared, in silence.  Not once had he been able to draw his sword.  By the time he got back to the inn he had a black eye and blood from a bloodied nose covered the front of his shirt.  Neth was sitting at a table nibbling at a plate of cheese as though she had been at the inn all morning.
    Day in and day out his training continued.  Nethira’s method was merciless, but it was effective.  The weather grew cold and snow fell.  The silence of winter covered the forest.  The only sounds Jorem heard as he made his way to the top of the hill were his own breathing and the crunch of the snow underfoot.  He wore the fingerless mittens to keep his hands from freezing, but Neth had forbidden him from wearing a coat.  “If you’re cold then you’re not moving fast enough,” she said.  He did manage to wear a set of light clothing under his armor so he wouldn’t freeze.
    Even with the cold and the snow, Neth still managed her sneak attacks.  The attacks were never in the same place.  Once she even caught him as he was just leaving the inn.  Some days there were no attacks.  Other days, it seemed like a non-stop battle from start to end.
    During his time with the blacksmith, Jorem had built a lot of muscles on his upper body.  His training with Neth had trimmed him down considerably.  He hadn’t lost any strength though.  If anything he was even stronger.  It was as if his muscles had condensed to whip cords, adding faster reactions to his strength.
    Even though he had his evenings free, Jorem seldom left the inn after the evening meal. He simply didn’t have the energy to do more than collapse on his bed. He did manage to notice at some point that the Duke’s son was wedded to Jannett.  From what he’d overheard there’d been quite a celebration.  Other than a crowded inn, the only thing Jorem noticed was that Neth had been in a very foul mood.
    The afternoon training had slowly progressed from a daily beati ng to something almost resembling a duel. Less and less Jorem was relying on his special armor to block the mercenary’s crushing blows. He had to replace several of his knives due to breakage, but better them than his bones. He was still nowhere near as fast as she was. Even though he’d improved, she still ‘killed’ him with such ease, sometimes he felt foolish. The harder he tried the fiercer she fought.
    And there were no days off with Neth. “Death happens every day. Even the King can’t change that”, was her reasoning.  It wasn’t long before Jorem didn’t even know what day it was.  Soon after that he was too tired to care whether the sun came up in the morning.  The only sense of time he had was the deepening of the snow.
     
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    The nearer to the top of the hill he got, the deeper the snow became.  He was almost to the tree line and the snow was already almost to his waist.  Thankfully there had