Enamored (Knights of Brethren Book 1) by Jody Hedlund

Author:Jody Hedlund [Hedlund, Jody]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Young Adult
Publisher: Northern Lights Press
Published: 2021-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter

13

Maxim

By dawn, the line of noblemen awaiting a turn at freeing the sword stretched through the great hall, down the passageway, and out into the inner bailey. The number of men arriving to Vordinberg and the royal residence was multiplying exponentially by the hour. Soon the line would stretch out of the castle boundaries and extend into the city.

I’d stood beside the Sword of the Magi all throughout the night, giving each man a turn to dislodge the relic from the case—no longer than three minutes, the fair amount of time determined by the Royal Sages.

I wasn’t sure why I’d been given the task of overseeing the process of finding the worthiest king. But since Rasmus had assigned me the role, he had an ulterior motive. He always did.

From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed him speaking with the two newest Knights of Brethren near a side doorway. I still hadn’t figured out why Rasmus had related my accomplishments to the king regarding how quickly I’d opened the case and learned the ancient language. Again, he’d done it for a reason. If only I could rationalize his motivation.

After the long days and little sleep of late, my mind wasn’t as sharp as it normally was. Was that Rasmus’s intention? To weaken me to more readily do his bidding?

The sunrise was brightening the high, narrow eastern windows filled with thick opaque glass. Elinor would be standing in our turret making notations, but without me today. Or any day.

My heart squeezed with the need to be with her, our faces to the east, the glow of dawn in our eyes, and the cool sea breeze blowing our hair.

When she left the hall last night after the twelve had failed to remove the sword from the case, her expression had been etched in resignation. Perhaps she’d expected one of the Knights of Brethren to succeed—Torvald, Kristoffer, or Sigfrid. Perhaps she’d simply wanted confirmation of their worthiness.

Whatever the case, she hadn’t expected the king to invite every nobleman within the kingdom to attempt to free the sword. But King Ulrik clearly hoped to gain the sword to deter Canute. If not to deter, then to defeat. The king would evaluate every eligible nobleman of marriageable age—no matter his birth order.

And what would the king do if every nobleman from the White Sea in the south to the Tundra Sea in the north took hold of the sword only to fail? What then? Would he acknowledge the truth: that the sword would pick the worthiest man to be king, no matter his bloodline?

When the king gave me leave to test the sword, I’d been mightily tempted to try it. But the truth had held me back—the truth that I wasn’t worthy. My heart was too stained, my ambitions too selfish, my motives too full of lies.

Nevertheless, I’d given the excuse the king had wanted, the reasoning he’d used that long-ago morn when he sent me away. From the flicker in his eyes last night, he’d recognized my use of his own words.

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