Free Brightflame Accension (Book 1) by D.B. Penner Page A

gnarled man carrying a torch. Beside the man crouched a great lion whose mane brushed the ground and danced limply around its head. The man’s lank hair was well salted, gleaming greasily by the light of his torch.
    “Recruits are not permitted a midnight stroll,” the man snarled coldly. “Therefore, I’m afraid this rendezvous is strictly forbidden. As is crossing the River Edd, which I’ve no doubt you were planning to attempt.”
    “We weren’t, sir,” Will objected, but the lion interrupted with a rumbling growl.
    The man continued, glaring at Will, “I’m not one for revelry, I’ll admit. The festivities of green shits like you wear on me. So, because I have no doubt that you were planning on crossing the bridge, I will report this straight to the Blademaster.” The lion rumbled contentedly. “Out-of-bounds after dark and attempting to violate Academy code, I expect you will be punished double for this infraction,” he sneered.
    “But, sir,” Will stammered, for Pat was at a loss of words for once. 
    “Call me sir one more time,” the ugly man snapped, his hollow eyes disappearing into the shadows cast by his protruding brows. He spat. “No more than this fat oaf deserves to be a Bladebeard recruit. We take in too many lords’ bastards, I say. The Academy needs soldiers, not noble shits, to fill her barracks. These halls have become overflowing chamber pots, teeming with the likes of you, Lardbelly. Follow me to the Blademaster’s quarters.” Looking to the lion, the man snorted with grim amusement. Leaving Will and Pat dumbfounded, the foulmouthed man strode off at a brisk pace. Will considered escape, but the lion roared ferociously from behind the recruits, and he hurried to catch up with the torch.
    With the lion always at his heels again, the man spoke, “I am Nailfram. You are Stormhand’s get are you not? I’m not surprised; your father was wild and unruly, a danger to all. You have the same look about you, boy. But I wonder, who are you, Lardbelly?” His mean eyes scrutinized Pat with haughty contempt.
    “I’m Patrick Chandelamp, grandson of -”
    “Spare me your tale, boy, I know the name,” Nailfram interrupted rudely. “Your grandfather’s lands have remained famously untouched by the war with the Shadow Liberator. How fare your lady mother and lord father?”
    Pat answered in a flat voice, fighting to keep it from breaking, “My father and mother died when I was just a boy. It was my seventh birthday. They had gone out with hounds and our kennel master to bring back a boar for the celebratory feast. Set upon by bandits, my parents… they died. Grandda took me in after that.” He sniffed, but shed no tears. Will felt pity for the boy, and Nailfram looked uncomfortable.
    “I was unaware, lad. I apologize for bringing it up. Word of such evils oft travels slowly to these parts. Your father served the Empire well.”
    As they past the empty Feasting Hall, Nailfram sighed, growling softly, “No sense in bringing you to the Blademaster tonight.” The boys smiled feeling lucky. “However,” Nailfram grinned smugly, reveling in how quickly the word killed their relieved expressions, “I’ll have you detained for your transgressions. Saturday morn, be in my office before the sun rises,” Nailfram smiled maliciously.
    Something rose up in Will’s stomach, bringing with it an unbidden fury that surprised Will. Simmering at the brim of his mind, boiling hot anger threatened to overflow, and Will had trouble preventing himself from leaping upon Nailfram.
    Nailfram noted this with a vain expression as if Will’s reaction had confirmed all his beliefs about the recruit. “Gollemp will lead you to the Lumberton dormitory,” the man said with an ugly smile that could have passed for a grimace. The lion shook its huge head, long mane flailing, and trotted down a torch-lit corridor.
    Frustrated, Will glared at Pat as they jogged to catch up to the lion. But Will’s irritation