Sons of the Oak Read Online Free Page B

was chasing them, though neither boy had ever seen one. And in his mind, the sound immediately became a camel—black and huge, like the war camels that were ridden by the Obbattas in the desert. He imagined that the camel had sharp teeth dripping with foam and bloodshot eyes.
    Four-year-old Fallion and Jaz had rushed out into the Great Hall of the castle, stumbling in fear and shouting to the guards, “Help! Help! The camels are coming!”
    Sir Borenson, who was taking breakfast at the time, had laughed so hard that he fell off of his stool. He took the boys outside in the fog and drew his sword very dramatically, cursing all camels and commanding them to do no harm.
    Then he led them toward the sound of the eerie calls. There, in the courtyard, they found a puppy chained to a stake—a young mastiff that alternately howled and panted as it tried to pull free.
    â€œThere’s your camel,” Borenson had said, laughing. “The Master of the Hounds bought him last night, and was afraid he’d try to run home if we took him off his chain. So he’ll stay here for the day, until he figures out that he’s family.” Then the boys had laughed at their own fear and had petted the puppy.
    Now as Fallion rode, he heard trees snapping, saw the fear on Borenson’s face.

    We’re not children anymore, he thought.
    He looked to his brother Jaz, so small and frail, riding in his haste. Fallion felt a pang of longing, a stirring desire to protect his brother, something that he’d often felt before.
    Fallion suddenly heard a strange call, like deep horns ringing one after another, all underwater, then a sudden screeching and the sounds of trees crashing, as if some enormous creatures tangled in battle.
    Fallion imagined Daymorra fighting there against the creatures, and whispered the only prayer he knew, “May the Bright Ones protect you, and the Glories guard your back!”
    Fallion opened his eyes to slits. Darkness was coming fast even as his horse lunged out of the woods and leapt down a sloping field. The garnet air seemed wan and diffuse, as if filtered through fire-lit skies. Fat grasshoppers leapt from the stubble as the horses pounded past, and there in the grass, white flowers yawned wide, morning glories with petals that unfolded like pale mouths, getting ready to scream.
    There were more cries in the woods as the party reached the road. Somehow they had circled behind the widow’s place. Her black dog raced out from under her porch, giving chase, but could not keep up with the force horses. Soon it dropped away, wagging its tail sheepishly as if its defeat were a victory.
    Something stirred inside Fallion, and he heard his father shout, “Run!” Fallion spurred his horse harder. “Run! The ends of the Earth are not far enough!”
    Again his father’s image intruded in his mind, a dimly recalled green figure, a shadow, and Fallion felt his presence so strongly that it was as if the man’s breath warmed Fallion’s face.
    â€œFather?” Fallion called out.
    Fallion looked behind him, wondering what could be giving chase, when he felt something pierce his stomach.
    He glanced down to see if an arrow was protruding from his ribs, or to see if one of the black creatures that inhabited Rhianna was there. His wine-colored leather vest was undamaged. Yet he could feel something vital being pulled from him, as if he were a trout and a giant hand had pierced him and now was yanking out his guts.
    He heard a whisper, his father’s rambling voice. “Run, Fallion,” he said.
“They will come for you.” And then there was a long silence, and the voice came softer. “Learn to love the greedy as well as the generous … the poor as much as the rich … the evil … . Return a blessing for every blow … .”
    Suddenly the voice went still, and there was a yawning emptiness in Fallion. His eyes welled up. Fallion saw