The Traitor's Heir Read Online Free PDF Page B

something the matter?” he asked. “You’ve been very quiet today.”
    â€œThat’s hardly usual, is it?” Aeryn offered him a smile, but fell silent. Carts and people passed by, many heading to the river docks. Eamon watched his friend with concern; she seemed distant, guarded.
    â€œAeryn?”
    â€œEamon,” she whispered, looking up at last, “are you sure that you want –?”
    â€œTo swear? Aeryn!” he cried. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life .”
    â€œThings will change, Eamon.” The look on her face had grown serious.
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous. They won’t change at all,” Eamon answered lightly. “Most likely they’ll station me here in Edesfield. It will be just the same, and I’ll be just the same.” Aeryn’s frown did not relent; she did not meet his gaze. He caught her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “We’ll still be here: you, Ladomer, and I. Well, you and I, anyway. Together, as we’ve always been.”
    â€œYou had best go and smarten up,” Aeryn answered softly, taking her hand from his.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œGood luck with the ceremony,” she added, turning away.
    â€œWait. Will you be there?”
    Aeryn surprised him with a smile that seemed sad. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
    â€œYes.”
    The college courtyard glittered in the afternoon sunlight. In the faraway valleys the first trees were beginning to turn gold and red with the autumn; it was as though the whole of nature rejoiced to wear the Master’s colours, just as the young men would who were to swear that day.
    Eamon waited nervously in the shaded walkways. There were perhaps four dozen other young men with him. Blood, anticipation, anxiety, and elation pounded through him; he could barely keep still.
    Some younger cadets were moving through the lines of men to be sworn in, straightening their jackets and taking the accidental scuffs off their boots. Except for the noise of that work things were silent. Eamon understood the dense quiet; the feelings churning inside him impeded speech.
    One of the young cadets passed him, then paused to rub a buffing cloth over the toe of his boot. He offered Eamon a brilliant smile of good fortune.
    â€œGood luck!”
    Eamon nodded and straightened back into his place in line. He could hear voices in the courtyard beyond – officers, and families of the men to be sworn, all expectantly waiting for the ceremony to begin.
    At that moment Captain Belaal came in. He was followed by Edesfield’s first lieutenant, and by another lieutenant who bore a covered object in his hands. With a start Eamon realized that the second man was Ladomer. He hadn’t known that Ladomer would be the pommel bearer, but he supposed that he should have suspected it; the honour usually fell to one of the college lieutenants.
    Belaal swept down the line of cadets, assessing every man with a swift gaze, then nodded with what approached satisfaction. “You know what to do, gentlemen.”
    â€œYes, sir,” came a quiet chorus. They did. They had been through a practice ceremony the previous week. For more than most of them the practice had been the enacting of a dream that had been rehearsed far longer.
    At the trumpet’s call the line of cadets to be sworn began to move. His heart beating like a drum, Eamon wondered whether he could stand at all. But his feet took the lead, and he walked in line with the others, caught up in the immutable ritual of the ceremony.
    The line filed out into the courtyard. The sun ran over his face and into his eyes. Those gathered in the courtyard to watch recognized their entry: the cadets, ensigns, and officers drew their swords up to their faces in formal salute. Eamon was dazzled by the light of the flashing blades. Behind them the men and women of Edesfield province were watching with pride; their sons were to be