The Sword #1 by Jean Johnson

Author:Jean Johnson [Johnson, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Berkley Sensation
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

"I have it!" Morganen burst into the great hall four days later, fist raised high. Rydan, in the act of setting out the plates, eyed his youngest sibling.

"Have what?"

"I have the solution to our plague of deadly infestations!"

Kelly raised her brow, setting out the silverware behind the one brother whom she only ever saw at this post-sunset evening meal. "How often have you had these invasions, anyway?"

"About once every week or two," Wolfer rumbled, hefting a keg onto the table and pulling out the knife at his belt to pry the cork out of the bunghole; he wanted to thrust in a new tap so they could pour the stout everyone seemed to prefer for their evening drink.

Not that she could fault their choice of beverage; one, they were men and would naturally want to drink something to put a little more hair on their otherwise lightly dusted chests, and two, proper, thick, dark stouts like this one were usually full of vitamins and nutrients, simply from the way they were made. She even kind of liked the nutty taste, especially with the spicy-sweet honey-nut pastries Evanor had showed her how to make for dessert. But the second eldest's comment caught her attention as his meaning sank in.

"Once a week? That often?" Kelly asked as her eyes widened, alarmed by the frequency.

"Not for the first two or so months, but after that, they came, increased, and stayed at a pacing of roughly one a week, though not always evenly spaced. It's only since you came that they have lessened in their frequency. Which makes no sense, if you are meant to be our Disaster-bringer," Wolfer added, though he winked one golden eye at her to show he didn't mean any insult. "Are you certain you're the one meant to wed my twin?"

"No, my dear brother," Morganen all but caroled, thumping his sibling on one thickly muscled shoulder as he strode around the table. "You are wrong!" He continued around, and caught up Kelly as she finished laying the last fork and spoon down. Sweeping her around, arm at her waist, his hand catching hers, he hummed a little tune, dancing with her in a rocking little two-step.

"Morganen!"

The roar made Kelly jump, blinking at the rage in Saber's voice, as he came into the hall.

"Just celebrating with my sister-in-law-to-be, dear brother!"

"He's in a good mood," Trevan quipped to no one in particular, helping Saber fetch the steaming platters of food from the kitchens at the base of the north wing, next to the great hall.

Saber narrowed his gaze, but his youngest brother wasn't touching her improperly; one hand was at her back, above her waist, the other held her hand, and there was a full hand-span of distance between their bodies. He grunted and allowed it. "Why are you dancing with my bride?"

"Because she made us clean the hall!"

Dominor snorted from up on the second balcony level, where he was knocking the lightglobes into life. His voice echoed down to them.

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