by Jane Glatt
Her gaze settled on the occupant of the other chair. He was a wiry man with a serious look and blond hair cut so short it stood on end. A jagged scar that ran from the back of his neck up and over his left ear, left a thin furrow on his scalp. He too wore the uniform of the Kingsguard.
“Brenna, come in,” Feiren said. “We were just telling Dasid here a little about your situation, but now that you’re here he can hear it firsthand.”
“Here, sit down,” Kane said. He rose and stood aside while she seated herself.
“Brenna, meet Dasid Addems,” Feiren said and gestured to the man beside her. “Dasid was my second in command and now serves my nephew in the same capacity. He’s also a senior member of the Brotherhood. He serves on the council and as our historian.”
“Caller,” Dasid said. “It’s an honor.” He bowed his head to her.
“Please, call me Brenna and I’ll call you Dasid?” He nodded and she relaxed. She wasn’t used to the formality of Dasid Addems. She hoped the rest of the Brotherhood was less proper. And then she remembered that Pater was part of the Brotherhood and she almost smiled.
Brenna turned to her host “Feiren,” she said. “You have an impressive home. The Guard must be a profitable occupation.” From behind her she heard Kane’s deep-throated chuckle and she looked up and met his gaze.
“If it is no one has mentioned it to me,” Kane said.
“I don’t see how Master Rowse’s finances are any of your concern Brenna,” Dasid said.
Brenna glanced at him before crossing her arms and turning back to Feiren. How much would they trust her? If they really believed she was the one their Brotherhood had been waiting for they should have no objections to her questions.
Feiren tapped his fingers on the polished tabletop for a few beats before he nodded. “Actually it is Dasid,” he said. “At least the Brotherhood’s finances are. Correct?” Brenna nodded and he continued. “After all, we have declared that the Brotherhood believes Brenna to be the true heir to the prophecy. I think Brenna is simply trying to gauge what we are capable of.”
“That’s right.” All day she’d wondered; what could the Brotherhood do to enforce the prophecy? The throne would not just be handed over to them. Or if she needed to escape them, how far and how long would she need to run? Feiren and Kane Rowse, current and former captains of the Kingsguard, were part of the hierarchy. No doubt the Brotherhood was well managed. Add money and men and they would be a formidable foe, if it ever came to that. She’d vowed long ago that she would not be forced into anything, by anyone. Not even if it came with a fine house and more crowns than she’d ever expected to see in her lifetime. She wanted to know what she was up against.
“So far,” Brenna said. “I know very little about the Brotherhood. I want to know how far a reach you have in Soule, what kind of resources you have to support the prophecy. And especially what’s next for me. Does anything in the Brotherhood’s history mention what to do once the Call comes?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Kane said. “Dasid?”
Dasid shook his head.
“So,” Brenna said. “The Brotherhood has no plan.” She settled back in the chair to wait to see if any of the men would disagree. They didn’t and she sighed.
“If you think I’m simply going to wait around here, hiding out until King Mattias dies, you’re mistaken.”
“I really don’t think there’s a need to make too much haste, Brenna,” Feiren said. “The Brotherhood has been waiting for two thousand years. It will take some time to get it organized for action. Time we have, I might add. King Mattias is yet a young man.”
“That all may be true,” Brenna replied. “But I remind you that things have happened with much haste recently. Not seven days ago I was a simple healer and thief. Now I’m told I’m the long lost heir to the throne. A throne that you feel will be occupied for a long time, though the odds makers in the Quarter give King Mattias no more than five years. And during that time Thorold will continue to consolidate and strengthen his position, just as he’s done for the past half a dozen years.” Brenna sat back, a little surprised at her own words. She didn’t want this role, so why had she even brought any of this up? But the Brotherhood could make a difference, even without the prophecy.
“She’s right,” Kane said. “The High Bishop is almost fully under Thorold’s control and the King’s health continues to decline. The odds makers may even be a little too generous. Now that Thorold’s son Beldyn has been named heir to King Mattias, he has even more authority. And Brenna has been revealed to us now.”
Feiren sighed deeply. “Yes, that she has. You think it more than coincidence?”
“I don’t think the prophecy operates on coincidences,” Kane replied.
Brenna leaned back in her chair with a calmness she didn’t feel. She’d almost forgotten about Beldyn. Her “little brother” as he’d thought, as she’d let him think, for all those years. What had growing up in Duke Thorold’s household done to him? He’d been stubborn as a boy and she’d tried to help him hide it, but it would have been impossible for him to conceal his anger for all these years. And Beldyn was the kings’ heir. Thorold would not have wanted that unless he was sure of his ability to control him.
“I think,” Kane continued. “That Brenna has been revealed to us with little time to spare.”
Feiren sighed and rubbed a hand across his temple. “Aye. No doubt you’re right and an old man like me just doesn’t want to admit that if the heir to the prophecy is needed, my king has little time left on this earth.”
Brenna looked from one grim face to another and shivered. Please Ush, she prayed, keep King Mattias in good health. For good measure she petitioned Jik for peace and order - if the king died soon they would be in short supply.
“Feiren,” Dasid said. “I’m not sure the Brotherhood is ready for this. You know there were many at the last meeting who were less than convinced.”
“Then convince them!” Brenna said. “You have to. There’s no one else who can defy Thorold.” And she would do almost anything to help them. She’d watched Duke Thorold kill her mother. He had to pay for that.
“The lass is right, Dasid,” Feiren said. “The Brotherhood must move quickly or all could be lost.”
By the time the housekeeper called them in for supper, they had the beginnings of a plan. At least the Brotherhood did. Brenna wasn’t sure it was what she was going to do, but she couldn’t get Beldyn out of her mind. Distracted, she followed the others into the dining room and sat down.
Brenna had thought of Beldyn over the years, of course. And when she’d heard the news that he’d been named King Mattias’ heir, her heart had ached for him. Duke Thorold would never have allowed Beldyn to be named the king’s heir unless he was certain the boy was under his control. Which meant that the Beldyn she knew was gone; no doubt twisted into a bitter, cruel youth by his father. But still, Brenna felt that she was overlooking something important. She couldn’t shake the feeling, nor could she ignore it. No, there was something there, something she’d need to uncover. She’d had hunches like these before and they always turned out to be correct. Brenna shut her eyes tight as she saw Sabine Werrett lying dead. What if her ‘hunches’ were connected with Sabine’s declaration that she was a Seer? She opened her eyes and deliberately put that thought from her head.
There was one thing the Brotherhood wanted her to do - learn how to fight, with real weapons. That was something she’d never considered - that they would teach a former indentured servant how to wield a weapon – and it was worth a few months of captivity. As military men, Kane and Feiren had no idea what a valuable gift they offered her. She’d seen enough tavern brawls get out of hand to know that any training could be the difference between life and death.
They’d also decided that Kane, disguised as Master Arlott, would visit Eryl. Brenna’s information network would be handed over to the master thief in exchange for his cooperation. Eryl would find the situation irresis
tible - the Captain of the Kingsguard asking for his help. Brenna knew Eryl could be counted on to keep his head down and his mouth shut, something she wasn’t yet sure Kane could do. Thankfully Kane agreed to let Eryl continue to ply his trade. For his part, Kane had promised to do what he could if the Guard caught up to Eryl.
A plate of food was set down in front of her and she ate, but once the plate was removed Brenna couldn’t have said what had been served. The three men had kept up a steady stream of conversation all through dinner, but she easily tuned it out - names of people she didn’t know, events that were not familiar. The dishes had been swept away by Feiren’s efficient staff and Brenna stared down at the tea that sat in front of her. The silver of the spoon glinted and she picked it up.
“There’s something I need to do,” Brenna said. Three pairs of eyes turned towards. Suddenly nervous, she looked over at Dasid. She wasn’t sure how much he knew about the reaction between her and old steel. “I need to try to figure out more about the old steel. I mean, what happened today, well, I mean …” She trailed off, unsure of exactly what she was trying to say.
“Brenna and I had an interesting morning,” Feiren said. “Brenna knew which of the old steel weapons on my office wall were family pieces and which ones weren’t.”
“They seemed to have a slightly different feel to them,” Brenna explained. “And the light they gave off had a different hue as well, and the humming …” She stopped talking and rose to her feet. “Here, why don’t I just show you?”
Brenna picked up a lamp from the table near the door and without waiting, headed down the hall to Feiren’s office. She put the lamp down on the desk and stood directly in front of the wall of weapons, her attention caught by the way the old steel glinted in lamplight. Unconsciously she raised a hand to the weapons. She felt the men crowd into the room behind her and her hand wavered.
“Here’s what I did earlier.” Brenna let her hand touch the hilt of the bottom knife. Same as before, that knife lit up first and then all the old steel weapons began to glow. She clearly heard the hum of the weapons and through her hand she felt the vibration of the knife she touched.
“Can you see the difference in the hues of the light coming from the Rowse weapons and the others?” she asked softly.
“Yes.” The answer was close to her ear and she twisted her head and looked directly into Kane’s blue gaze. He had his own sword out and as he held it closer to the others on the wall it too, began to glow. It had the same underlying hue as the other Rowse weapons. Dasid joined them, sword out, wide eyes washed by the greenish radiance of his glowing weapon.
“I can hear it in my head,” Dasid said. “A hum. And I can feel it through my hand as well.”
“Just wait,” Brenna said as she closed her eyes to concentrate on the sounds. Each weapon had a differently pitched hum. And Kane and Dasid were somehow present within the sound - Kane was a deep thrum along her spine, Dasid was a lighter tone. She concentrated on Dasid until she isolated him. When she opened her eyes, only Dasid’s sword still shone, its light illuminating the room. The rest of the weapons were dark. Brenna let her hand drop from the knife on the wall and Dasid’s sword went dark as well.
“That was very interesting,” Kane said. He replaced his sword in its scabbard. “I think we’ll need to get the help of a few more families for this. The more different weapons Brenna has to work with I think the more she’ll learn.”
“Aye. But you’ll need to be careful of who you select.” Feiren dropped into one of the chairs. “We should choose those most in need of convincing. We’ll also need to consider who we give access to the Caller.”
Brenna grimaced. She’d rather not be around people who only were there to figure out how to use her. She did well enough in the Quarter, with those who wanted access to a healer. But she doubted she would be a match for a seasoned member of the nobility, or a merchant. She’d seen enough of the politics in Duke Thorold’s household to know that it was a blood sport for many.
“Can we invite youngsters?” Brenna asked. “We could call it weapons practice.” She could probably handle a group of fourteen year old boys. No doubt they’d be much like Eryl’s gang, no matter their social standing. “I’ll need someone to train with anyway.”
“I like it.” Kane smiled warmly at her. “We’ll swear them to secrecy. It works for fresh recruits. Makes them feel grown up. Any complaints about access to you can be countered by the fact you’ve only had contact with youngsters. You’ll need to meet the rest of the council though.”
Brenna frowned.
“It’s only another three, besides Uncle Feiren and Dasid,” Kane said.
She smiled and he nodded. He assumed she was simply worried about meeting more people. And she was. The more members of the Brotherhood she met the sooner someone would realize that she wasn’t their precious heir. And now they had something she wanted. Now she had a reason to stay. But as soon as she learned how to fight with weapons, she would leave.
eight
Kane stood near the window of his uncle’s study. Outside, Feiren corrected Brenna’s stance and then raised his practice sword. She raised her weapon and the two flowed through the parry and thrust exercises. Brenna’s lithe body was quick and agile, and Kane couldn’t help but appreciate her controlled grace. Years as a thief had given her a keen awareness of the way her body moved and the space it inhabited. When she performed an intricate parry with his uncle, his heart tightened in his chest. She was stunning when in motion. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought her ordinary.
Despite her strength and agility she’d started too late to ever be a master with a sword, but she continued to work hard and in a few more weeks she’d be effective enough. Certainly good enough to hold off a single skilled swordsman long enough for help to arrive, which was the most you could expect for a trainee her age.
He’d been surprised to find she was just past her twenty-second birthday - she’d seemed so much younger than him when he’d first set eyes on her. He smiled ruefully. Now at times she seemed as old as his uncle. She had a perceptive understanding of the underlying workings of the town that he, in his position as Captain of the Kingsguard, only rarely glimpsed.
His uncle and Brenna exchanged formal bows, weapons up, and then they lowered the practice swords to the ground in the small courtyard. Low sounds of laughter reached him as they each dipped a cup into the water bucket and drank their fill. It was a glorious late spring day, about a month since Brenna had come to stay with Uncle Feiren, and the sun shone brightly overhead despite it being late afternoon.
Brenna and Feiren each took up short wooden knives and faced each other again. In two steps they were both on the attack. Kane sucked in his breath. By Jik, he hadn’t seen her with the knife in almost two weeks and her improvement was extraordinary.
After thirty minutes, Uncle Feiren had been able to best her only three out of four times and Kane knew he’d need to make more time for her training himself, if she kept at this pace. He sighed and rolled his shoulders. He’d been worried she’d never be able to defend herself, but it looked as though she could handle herself with a knife. And considering the risks she’d been taking lately, that was a relief.
His uncle didn’t know, but the Brothers he’d posted to watch the house reported that Brenna had been leaving by hidden exists every fifth or sixth night. He had no idea how she’d found so many of the exits so quickly, but he had to convince her to take fewer chances. What if she was recognized? What could be so important that she would risk the church knowing she was still alive? So much was riding on her and yet she didn’t seem to realize it. No, she realized it, she just didn’t care. Not about the Brotherhood, anyway. In all the years he’d been in the Brotherhood, he’d never once considered that the heir, when found, might not want the task. He couldn’t blame her, not really. But despite what Brenna wanted, the Brotherhood, and all of Soule, needed her. And it was up to him to convince her. He sighed. Something else he’d nee
d to find time for.
When the two outside finally put down their knives, Kane opened the door and stepped out into the courtyard.
“Uncle Feiren, Brenna,” Kane greeted them. He had to shade his eyes to see them in the bright sun. “I see you’ve been making good progress with the weapons training. Especially the knife work.” Brenna looked up at him and smiled and his heart stopped, just for a moment. Flustered, he looked at his uncle.
“No offense, Uncle Feiren,” he said. “But she’ll soon be beyond your training skills.”
“I can’t be offended by the truth, can I?” Feiren grabbed a cloth and wiped his forehead. “It’s been a very long while since I was Weapons Master and the knife never was one of my best. I always preferred the longer reached weapons, like the sword and staff. If you want to take over the knife, I’ll be more than happy to step aside. She’s much too young and nimble for my old bones to keep up with.”
“You’re not old.” Brenna said. “You’re just …”
“Fat?” Feiren asked. He patted his still flat stomach. “Lazy?” Kane opened his mouth to comment but his uncle scowled at him. “You stay out of this, lad.”
Brenna looked Feiren over critically, her eyes alight. “Let’s just say you’re distinguished,” she said. “But it might not hurt to leave off Cook’s dumplings for a bit.” With that, she grabbed up her practice weapons and entered the house. She turned to close the door and looked at Kane. “I’ll get cleaned up and be back down in a quarter hour.”
The door closed behind her and Kane, his breath caught in his throat, simply stood and stared at it. Uncle Feiren cleared his throat and Kane turned to him.
“Be careful, lad,” Feiren said as he walked towards him “She’s the Caller. I dare say we’re all a little bit infatuated with the lass.” He smiled wistfully. “And that might be part of the prophecy. But we can’t let our emotions cloud our judgment. Or hers.”
