by Jane Glatt
With a deep sigh, Brenna stood. Time to face the Brotherhood. She opened the door and nodded at the Brother positioned outside her room. She recognized him as the Kingsguard on duty when she was in jail. Kane had said his name was Andel and that he was her escort but to her he was still her jailer. Would he let her leave if she tried to walk out of the house? She doubted it.
“Let’s go,” she said. Instead of taking the stairs she pushed the lever that opened a passageway. As she descended to the caverns, she gritted her teeth and tried to block out the old steel that surrounded her.
Brenna peered around the rocky opening and squinted in the smoky light of the cavern. Empty, the cavern had looked big, but now, filled with almost six hundred Brothers, it felt small. The noise of the crowd reminded her of the Seven River when spring melted the mountain snows. And underlying it was the thrum of old steel. It battered her senses even as she tried to block it out.
For the most part men filled the cavern but Brenna could see a number of women scattered throughout the crowd. Their brightly colored dresses stood out from the somber blacks and browns of the men’s garb. The dark blue uniforms of the Kingsguard punctuated the edges of the room and a Guard nearby looked her way. Andel gave him a sign and the Guard nodded and continued to scan the gathering.
She’d been part of a crowd this size before, but only on the streets of Kingsreach. The larger the crowd the more profitable they were for a thief, but she hadn’t realized that so many bodies in an enclosed space would generate such heat. Brenna thanked Ush that she was dressed in a simple shirt and breeches. The heavy formal attire worn by the nobles and tradesmen and the uniforms worn by the Kingsguard must be stifling.
Up at the front, on the dais, Kane was impressive in his uniform. When he bent his head to speak to his uncle his dark hair shone in the flickering torchlight and Brenna remembered the way the deep blue of the uniform had highlighted his eyes. She quickly looked away from him to study the cavern.
The wooden dais stretched across the front of the cavern and was darkened by age and the smoke of hundreds of years of torches. On the left, three steps led up from the cavern floor. Most of the council of the Brotherhood, including Dasid Addems, sat at the long table that was centered on the dais. Feiren Rowse stood close to the front of the dais, still in conversation with Kane and the rest of the council members solemnly looked out over the crowd.
Brenna’s six drill mates huddled just in front of her, at the very back of the crowd. With a nod to Andel, she drifted off and joined them. Andel made his way through the crowd and up the stairs. He said something to Kane and after a quick glance her way Kane tapped Feiren on the shoulder.
“Brotherhood,” Feiren shouted over the din. “Brotherhood.” The noise of the crowd rose and then grew quiet. “On this historic occasion a special ceremony will be performed by some of our youngest members. Please begin.” Feiren waved Brenna’s group forward.
The seven of them quickly got into positions - shortest to tallest. Martyn was first, then Jemma, Carolie, Brenna, Colm, Owen and finally Gram. Brenna did her best to ignore the deep drone of old steel and concentrate on Carolie as she followed her through the crowd. They stopped in front of Feiren and the council and saluted them. Then they all turned and drew their weapons. When Brenna’s hand touched her knife, the hum of old steel increased in volume. Her arm trembled as she drew her knife up, pointed to the cavern ceiling with the flat of the blade resting against her nose. The muscles in her arm ached until she clamped down hard with her mind and blocked the old steel out. She took a deep breath. Now she could function.
Brenna remained stationary as the others swung out from either side of her until they formed two lines that faced each other. Knives and swords met overhead and she walked beneath them. As she passed each pair of old steel weapons she reached out and let them flare briefly. It was a struggle to control the responses of these few weapons in the presence of so much old steel and by the time she’d walked the short distance her head ached and sweat dotted her forehead. The rest of her drill team formed a circle and Brenna began to weave in and out between them. As she passed them, one by one she let each weapon glow for a second. The crowd murmured and she felt a vague sense of unease from the old steel that surrounded her.
She wove past Martyn and the circle broke. Once again they lined up in front of the council table, this time with Brenna at the head of the line. They held their weapons out in front, blades pointed to the cavern ceiling.
Brenna took a step forward and bowed to the council table. Then she turned to Martyn. She reached for her knife and let it shine with a clear white light. She focused on Martyn’s knife. Soon, it too shone. Brenna gritted her teeth against the pounding of her head. She wanted this over, and soon. She felt drained from being so close to so much old steel.
“We praise Ush for health and plenty,” Martyn said. She stepped past him and stopped in front of Jemma.
“We praise Jik for order and balance,” Jemma said after Brenna lit her knife. Then it was on to Carolie and her praise to Anu for the comforts and family and community. As Brenna stopped in front of each of her drill mates and lit their blade, it was harder for her to control them. The crowd became louder and louder as each weapon was lit. Finally she was almost done. The praises to the old gods were complete and there was only one more weapon to light. She stopped in front of Gram and lit his sword. The noise from the crowd increased and Gram shifted a half step forward and cleared his throat.
“When the blood of Wolde is weakened,” Gram began. His deep voice carried out across the crowd. “And the line of kings is broken one will come who reunites Wolde’s blood.”
Gram stepped back and Brenna moved forward, her palm slick on her knife hilt as she held it aloft. She looked down the line, where all six weapons blazed, and licked her lips.
“Brothers by the throne, look to me to save the line.” Her words echoed in the now quiet hall and nervously Brenna took half a step back.
“Brotherhood,” Feiren said from the dais behind her. “I give you Brenna Lightfingers, your Caller.”
The crowd shouted and whistled and stamped their feet on the cavern floor. Brenna turned and held her knife up to the drill team. She managed to let the weapons flare even brighter for just a second, and the crowd grew even louder. Then she nodded to her drill mates and as a group they sheathed their weapons. Once the weapons were safely sheathed, Brenna let them go dark.
She wiped a sleeve across her brow then bowed first to the crowd, then to her drill mates. She made her way to the stairs and joined Feiren and Kane. She met Kane’s gaze and he nodded and faced forward. Brenna tugged her shirt down, pushed her shoulders back and looked out into a sea of faces.
“Brothers! Quiet, please. Quiet!” Feiren shouted. Brenna unsheathed her knife and let it shine brighter than ever as she fought the undercurrent of hundreds of pieces of old steel. The room went silent as all eyes turned to her. With a nod to Feiren she sheathed her knife.
“This slip of a girl is the Caller?” asked a large, blunt faced man. He stood at the front of the crowd and from the way he was dressed Brenna guessed he was a farmer.
“Yes the Caller is a woman,” Feiren said. “My nephew and Kingsguard Andel have sworn to the council that they heard her voice the Call. She has abilities tied to old steel, as has been demonstrated tonight.”
“So the Kingsguard and the council have met her,” the farmer said. “What about regular folk, have any been part of this or have you been hidin’ her among the nobles?” Some in the crowd shouted their agreement and Brenna saw more than a few men nod their heads.
“What do you mean by regular folk?” asked a familiar voice. Brenna searched for the speaker and finally found him. She smiled as Pater worked his way up to the front. “Name of Pater and I have a fruit stand in Thieves Quarter,” he said. “Am I regular enough folk for ye?”
There were general sounds of agreement and the original speaker nodded.
“Well, t
hat’s my nephew there. The small one on the end.” Pater pointed to Martyn. “He’s been training with the Caller for a few weeks now. Martyn, tell the lads here what Brenna can do.”
Brenna watched as Martyn swallowed, then squared his shoulders and took a step forward.
“Well,” Martyn said. “Mistress Brenna, she can make the old steel light up and hum, too.” Martyn paused for a second. “Mistress Brenna says that each one of us has a song we make when we’re holding old steel. Well, the old steel that belongs to us leastways. She can tell if you and the old steel don’t come from the same family.”
“That’s true.” A large well-dressed man spoke. “Many of you here know me. I’m Guild Master Brunger and my daughter has also been training with the Caller. Carolie, take a step forward would you?” Brenna couldn’t see the girl’s face but from the way she flounced forward a step there was no doubt she was enjoying being the centre of attention.
“The Caller,” said the Guildmaster. “Sent my daughter home saying that the knife Carolie had was not original to our family. You can imagine my surprise when I looked back over our family records and discovered this was indeed the truth. The knife had come into the family more than 700 hundreds years ago. The Caller knew even though my family had forgotten.”
“But she’s a woman! Never heard that the Caller’d be a woman,” someone from the back of the crowd shouted. The cavern filled with muttered agreement and Brenna lifted her chin and gazed steadily out over the crowd. She could feel the agitation of the crowd through the old steel they bore. The more unsettled the crowd became the more her head throbbed.
The crowd shifted towards the back of the cavern and Brenna saw a solid line Kingsguard dark blue along the back wall. She wasn’t surprised that a group called the Brotherhood had been expecting a man, no matter what Feiren had said. Angrily she let go of her control and all at once hundreds of old steel weapons flared to light. Brenna stepped forward to the edge of the dais and glared at the crowd. The weapons shone so brightly that the torches barely registered in the white glare.
Those at the front of the crowd edged back from her and a space opened up in front of the dais. Her drill team remained, at least. Exhausted, she rubbed a hand against her aching temple.
“Order!” Feiren shouted. “Brothers! Remain calm, please.”
Brenna reached out to the old steel and the light slowly faded from hundreds of weapons. Then the room started to fade and she felt her legs crumple.
“Brenna, are you all right?”
“No.” She opened her eyes to find Kane bent over her, his face grim. “My head hurts.” She shifted until the arm of the settee no longer dug into her back. She squinted against the dim light of Feiren’s sitting room. “And I’m tired.” She rubbed her temples. “What happened? I remember the old steel. There was so much of it that I couldn’t control it. I fainted, didn’t I?”
“Yes, and it was quite spectacular,” Kane said. “It certainly got everyone’s attention.” He placed a damp cloth on her brow and she groaned at the cool relief.
“That’s it then,” she said. “They’ll never accept me now. Not only a woman but a weak one at that.” She was relieved. This could all be over and she could go on with her life.
“Oh they don’t think that at all,” Kane said with a smile. “Once we knew you were still alive a good number of Brothers blamed your faint on the doubters. Some think that the Caller would be affected by disagreement amongst the Brotherhood. The Kingsguard had to knock some heads together to break up a few scuffles.”
“How long was I out?” Brenna asked. She was still stuck with the Brotherhood, then. She leaned back against the settee and let the coolness of the cloth soothe her headache.
“Just a few minutes,” Kane said. “I got you out as fast as I could. Dasid and Uncle Feiren will be up when things have calmed down.” He took the cloth from her and stood up. “It will take a while, so we should get you up to your room. Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine,” Brenna said. She felt her head for any lumps or tender areas. “There doesn’t seem to be any real damage. I’m just tired and, well, drained from all the old steel.” She slid her legs over the edge of the settee and paused in case there was any lingering dizziness. “Rather than go to my room, I’ll head for the kitchen.” She stood up and stretched. “I’m sure you want to get back downstairs but me, I’m suddenly starving.”
“You’re sure you’re fine?” Kane asked.
“I’m sure.”
“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” He reached a hand out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and Brenna looked away, suddenly warm.
“Yes. But I’m fine,” she said. “Really. Now go.”
“I’ll let them know you’ll be all right,” Kane said and turned to go.
As he left, Brenna flushed at the thought of Kane carrying her up here while she was unconscious.
Kane rubbed his eyes wearily as he walked down the hall towards his uncle’s study. Finally everyone was out or bedded down in the caverns. Because of the trouble earlier he’d let over four hundred guests leave through the front door. It was a risk, he knew. That was over one hundred people more than had entered. But it was late and dark. He’d had each party add one extra person when they left. Besides the fifty or sixty Brothers who had left by the secret passages, there were still over one hundred men bedded down in the caverns. They would leave in the morning.
Kane reached his uncle’s study and stopped. Uncle Feiren sat slouched at his desk. A half full glass of wine sat beside him and his head was propped up in one hand as he stared at the chair in front of him. Kane leaned against the doorframe and smiled. Brenna was curled up in the chair, fast asleep. Her brown hair fell softly across her cheek and her eyelids were closed over those incredible eyes of hers. Her mouth was open slightly and when he heard the small sound, he stifled a laugh. She must have heard him because her eyes opened and she squinted up at him. Then she yawned, stretched her arms wide and untucked her legs from beneath her.
“What are you laughing at?” she asked, her voice husky.
“You snore,” Kane said. He stepped into the room and dropped into the chair beside her.
“I do not!”
“You do.” Kane looked at his uncle. “Uncle Feiren will agree.”
Feiren nodded. “I’m afraid it’s true lass, although it’s not something a gentleman usually points out to a lady.” He fixed Kane with a glare. “At least not if he knows what’s good for him.”
“Huh. Well, no one ever complained before,” Brenna said. “I’m going to bed, where my snoring won’t disturb anyone.” And then she rose and left the room.
Kane stared after her. No one had complained before? By the old gods what did that mean? Was it just Eryl or had Brenna had other bedmates? His stomach knotted and his breath caught in his throat. She’d had a life before she’d been discovered as the Caller. A rough life in a rough part of town. His chest tightened at the thought of her with a man. And that was because she was heir to the throne and would need to make a political marriage, he told himself. Not because he felt anything other than fondness and fealty to her as the Caller. But he remembered how he’d felt when he’d seen her slump to the floor in the cavern. Remembered how his heart had stopped and time had crawled until he could make it to her side, make sure she still lived.
“Kane.”
Kane looked up and met his uncle’s speculative gaze.
“I asked if you thought Brenna had recovered from her faint tonight,” Feiren said.
“Oh, um,” Kane mumbled. “Yes. She seemed to be. A little tired, but otherwise fine.”
“Good. That’s what I thought,” Feiren said. “Now to the records. I’d like to finish this off before dawn, if you don’t mind.” He handed Kane a stack of papers. “You check those.”
ten
Incompetents, that’s what he was surrounded with. God cursed incompetents. Thorold’s arm swept the top of his desk. The win
e glass crashed to the floor and papers scattered about the room. He needed answers and he needed them now. Feiren Rowse had hosted a large gathering the night before last. Apparently it was to congratulate some old warrior’s retirement from the Kingsguard, but it didn’t ring true. Reports said the house was quiet all night long, odd for a gathering of over three hundred Guardsmen. And not one unruly incidence was reported in Kingsreach afterward. He didn’t think that was because the Guard hadn’t reported on its own. No. Some of them had found their way into taverns, but they were quiet in them and sober when they arrived. It was unusual. So unusual he didn’t believe it was a simple a retirement.
“Boy,” he shouted. The door to his study opened and a youth crept in, head bowed.
“Yes, my Lord Duke.”
“Get me Fridrick. Now!” With a quick nod the boy scurried from the room.
He’d have Fridrick look into this party. Thorold had long been suspicious of Feiren Rowse and his nephew. Both of them professed belief in the rights of the common man, but Thorold knew what lay in the hearts of the common man - greed and lust. He believed that even the Rowse’s held something or someone dear enough to lie, cheat and kill for and he was determined to find out what that was. Feiren Rowse had already caused him enough setbacks. He would not allow the man or his nephew to cause any more.
Thorold had first met Feiren when he had newly inherited his title as Duke of Comack. Though he was young and had just lost his father, Thorold knew exactly what he wanted when he arrived at his proper place in the king’s council- power. Feiren had been the Captain of the Kingsguard of course, and old King Bodan made it obvious he considered him first amongst his advisors.
