Hold the Light Read Online Free Page A

had him subdued and calm until he pushed his brother with both hands into the tree. Nathaniel bellowed.

    The dislocated shoulder hit the bark straight on and popped it back into place. He shook his arm and rubbed it without showing any signs of pain and hugged his brother with both quickly regretting it as they recoiled in pain.

    "Take it easy on the arm."

    "Thank you. How did Father know that?"

    "Because he usually dislocated other peoples' shoulders in fights and always ended up putting them back into socket for them. Then they'd buy him rounds," Mural said, strolling up to the same tree. Unblinking, he rammed his shoulder into the bark and grunted. He stepped back and shook his arm, satisfied.

    A few moments later, the boys turned and walked to the house. They stared at a charred skeleton of wood and brick. Fires meekly dotted the foundation of their ravaged home, greedily nibbling on the last of the food, leaving behind nothing but ash. The brick fireplace and the stove were the only recognizable objects still standing. Broken timbers that looked like ribs from picked over carrion jutted out from everywhere.

    "What about Mother?" Nathaniel asked, "We have to find her!"

    Both boys split up and called out for her. Their voices sounded through out the woods returning only as echoes with the cool breeze of the coming night. They searched until darkness set in, weaving past trees and coves, finding nothing but nature. Canon fire from the distance boomed as the sun headed for its resting place. Mural set up a fire with what was left of the house, scattering in some broken branches which, only hours ago, were used for playful fencing, not for survival. The brothers sat for most of the night, staring at the fire dancing about the dark and fighting tears. Neither boy could utter a word for hours. Nathaniel, worn by the day's fatigue, nestled against a log to sleep. Mural, forced into first watch, shook off his emotions and weariness, and vowed to stay awake. But as time passed and his listlessness got the better of him, he rose and strolled down the road.

    "What do we do now?" He thought and walked, "Mother and Becca are missing and Father is off at war. I'm the man now so I've got to come up with something."

    Nathaniel, barely twelve and Mural just two years older, came together with a meager amount of combined experience and even less experience authority.

    "We can take care of ourselves and hunt for food and shelter," Mural pondered in a whisper,
    "we won't be able manage it for long. Nathaniel isn't that strong. We have to find shelter and food before any more damned redcoats come back. And they will come back. But we can't leave. Not until mother comes back home with Becca in her arms looking for us."

    Anger welled up in his head and smothered his rationality. He did not want the responsibility of having to decide. "So I have to choose between our immediate survival and seeing if my mother and sister are alive..."

    Disgusted with his options, Mural kicked at the path, hoping for an idea to strike him. One hit his toe. He leaned down, crouching before a long, cylindrical, ornamented piece of metal and ran his fingers over the raised markings. Brushing away black soot, he found the sword he had knocked off the imposter officer. Mural lifted it and bounced its weight off his palms.

    "This is a start," he thought, then paused under the weight of realization. "No, it's a sign. We are going to need protection along the road. What better protection than this? After everything had been taken from us, this is the way to take it back." Power sat heavily in his hands and fueled his anger.

    The night was calm and the air was sweet but it burned his lungs as he breathed it in. It would have been a beautiful night if not for the circumstances.

    Fury churned in Mural's stomach and rippled through his veins.

    Goosebumps raised on his skin and anger balled in his throat. His left hand tightly gripped his forehead and tried to