Oath of the Brotherhood Read Online Free PDF

transformed an open meadow into a canvas village with astonishing speed, setting out lavishly furnished tents for both Riocárd and Conor. Dolan brought him a bowl of stew and a chicken leg with a flask of well-watered mead, but the food could not distract him from the tree line. Boredom may have dampened his anxiety over their proximity to the forest, but the falling darkness reminded him that he had legitimate reasons for fear.
    Despite his nervousness, as Conor listened to the low sounds of men and horses among the creaks of armor and the crackle of campfires, his heavy eyelids drifted down. He retreated to his tent, where he wrestled off his brigandine and stretched out fully clothed atop a plush feather bed. As soon as he tugged the blanket over himself, he fell asleep.
    Until a woman’s voice, low and sultry, beckoned him. Conor.
    The sound entwined him, wrapping him in shivery fingers of pleasure. Half-sedated, Conor sat up slowly in his bed and stared toward the forest.
    Lay the charm aside. You don’t need it. Come to me.
    Conor’s hand closed around the charm, and it sent a jolt of alarm through his body. He startled awake, covered in gooseflesh despite the warmth of his blanket.
    “They’re out there.” Dolan crouched beside Conor’s cot, the low flame from the single lantern glinting in the servant’s dark eyes.
    “What are they?”
    “Old magic from the beginning of time. The pagans call them the Folk, an ancient, half-human race that lives between our world and the next. But Balians believe they are the Fallen, the celestial beings who turned against Comdiu before time began. He gave them leave to wreak their will upon the earth. For a time, they were bound, but as Balus’s gifts wane, so does the protection against them. We call them the sidhe.”
    In the dark, Conor trembled. Dolan had never spoken openly of the threat in the mist, and knowing the truth only heightened his fear. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized exactly how sheltered he’d been at Balurnan. “Why are you telling me this now?”
    “So you won’t be drawn by their call. The sidhe can’t harm us directly. They can only deceive us, and our faith makes us less susceptible to their lies.” Dolan patted his shoulder. “Rest now. I’ll keep watch.”
    Conor stretched out on the cot and closed his hand around the ivory wheel. Despite his efforts to sleep, disturbing questions swirled through his mind. The sidhe had beckoned him before. This time, though, the call had been harder to ignore. Would they just keep trying until he could no longer resist?
    The camp stirred long before daylight without Conor finding sleep. Smells of smoke and cooking food wafted on the breeze with hushed voices and the sounds of weapons being checked and horses prepared. Then a string of curses drifted through camp.
    Dolan left his side in a flash, disappearing from the tent before Conor could poke his head out the flap. When the older man returned, he wore a grim expression. “We lost three men last night. Left their horses and armor behind.”
    Conor’s eyes went to the trees, where the mist had already begun to recede. “What did Riocárd say?”
    “He’s calling them deserters. They’ll double the watches tonight, but it won’t help.”
    “You sound as if this is not the first time.”
    Dolan glanced back at the milling camp, the tightness of his mouth betraying his concern. “Not all casualties of past campaigns have been from battle, lad. Róscomain takes its due, even if the enemy takes more.”
    Conor shuddered. He might have escaped the sidhe’s grasp last night, but he knew how close he’d been to succumbing to the voice. Had he not been wearing the charm, he might be among the missing.
    They rode well into twilight the second day, resting the horses and foot soldiers only as long as necessary and eating cold meals to avoid the time it took to light fires. The warriors eyed the tree line warily, grasping swords and spears at the