Brightflame Accension (Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

wrong.”
    Art threw his head back, laughing long and loud. “Not half bad for a farm boy. Aye, the nose. One of the pitfalls of having seven hedge knights in the family; they’re constantly finding themselves requiring a tilting partner.”
    “Seven older brothers?”
    “And four lady sisters each married to a landed lord, as they are so proud to bleat. They’re always quarrelling over which of their rump-fed husband’s lands yield the most coin, or livestock, or grain, or this that and the other.”
    “I’m the only in my house,” Will said, for once almost glad that it was true.
    “Lucky to be. Me, I’m the youngest. Got all my brothers’ clothes and dinted up armor waiting for me when we arrive at the Academy. I suppose I should be thankful, most twelfth children get piss for porridge. That’s what my old man says anyway. A broke bloody nose is nothing compared to the conditions in which the peasants live, though. I’ve seen it. One day, when I earn my knighthood, I’m going to set things right by them. ‘Gallant Sir Arthur, the Twelfth Son, come to save us,’ they’ll shout as I ride past on my own destrier. I suppose I’m only the eighth son, but Twelfth Son has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
    “Indeed,” laughed Will. “How will you come by such fame?”
    “You’ve now hit upon the heart of the matter, farm boy. If I knew, I wouldn’t be here talking to you.” Art saw Will’s expression at that and smiled, “I guess it’s our job then to forge our own paths to fame. You and me, what do you say, farm boy? You’ll be my trusty squire?”
    “Certainly, if you think you can best me.”
    “With a sword, maybe, but you look like you could pull a plow circles around a team of oxen, so maybe not. And with a lance? Blast that! Old Sam here can’t outpace your charger,” Art eyed Will’s mount jealously. “Red as a flame and looks as if he can move faster than wildfire.”
    “Soulfire,” Will corrected.
    “Aptly dubbed, farm boy. You must realize that your father is more than an udder-tugger.”
    “We harvest wheat,” Will interjected.
    “Grass-mower, udder-tugger, sheep-lover, makes no difference. No farmer could afford such a beast.”
    Will considered his words and knew them to be true.
    “I’m going to stick close to you. If you have a quarter of your sire’s skill, only a fool would make enemy of you.”
    “Shall we continue on together then, oh master of the joust, Gallant Sir Art the Bootlicker?” Will japed.
    “You won’t see me kiss ass, farm boy. Until I see what ability you possess, your filthy boots will remain untongued.”
    “Would that they remain so. I wish no man to call me friend then proceed to grovel at my feet.”
    “Did I call you friend? I suppose I did.” Art smiled warmly.
    The two rode together in silence, though not the kind that is born of hostility or discomfort. Will was amazed that his father could have struck such an illustrious figure, but was disconcerted as well because Matthew had concealed so much from Will. Art seemed to have not sensed Will’s troubled contemplation as he hummed a merry tune, and from time to time, took a swig of a skin dangling from his saddle.
    They came across a sluggish river, stopping to water the horses and eat a morsel. Resting beneath a lone tree on the riverbank, Will asked about Art’s family. Between bites of hard bread, Art responded freely.
    “Youngest of twelve, as I’d said. My father was a second son of a minor lord in the Hinterlands. He squired for a knight of the Emperor’s own guard as they were distant relatives by marriage, a great honor at any rate. He warmed the heart of a maid born far above his station, but on the day he was knighted, her lord father gave his only daughter’s hand to my father. My grandfather had a right litter of sons so giving away his only daughter to a knight she loved seemed not such a loss.
    “Soon after their wedding, my father begot a son, but, owning no