Thief (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 1)

by Jane Glatt

  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean?”

  “We’ll soon be called before King Mattias to answer to the duke’s charges,” Kane said. “If he’s foolish enough to claim you as a runaway, we should be able to counter his argument effectively enough. As to the charges of trespassing, that’s a matter for the Kingsguard. But if he’s discovered the knife is gone, it may be a problem. For now, you’ll need to be our guest in jail. Dasid will take you.” Brenna stood and followed Dasid to the door.

  “And Brenna,” Kane said. She paused and looked at him from the doorway. “what Duke Thorold wants is power. We can stop him from getting it. That is the prophecy. But you need to trust me. You need to trust the Brotherhood.”

  fifteen

  Brenna slumped down on the straw with her back to the wall of the cell. She pulled her knees up under her chin and sighed. Yes, Thorold wanted power. She’d known that all her life, had lived it as a child, Thorold’s need to control everyone in his household - his wife, his children, his servants, everyone. Now he was positioned to extend that power over every single person in Soule. His son would hold the title of king but Thorold would wield the power. She’d been so focused on her own plans for revenge that she’d barely given a thought to what the prophecy meant to Soule.

  What would it mean to have someone other than Thorold in power? She thought back to her childhood. She’d watched him manipulate people simply because he could - the torment he’d visited on an elderly groom when his horse wasn’t ready - the scalded serving girl who had set the too-hot soup before him. And now the entire kingdom of Soule would be vulnerable. A Soule under Thorold would become a very hard place for the poor, the weak, the ones without money and power and connections.

  Like the people she knew in Thieves Quarter. What would happen to Pater and his nephew Martyn? Would they be in a position to give those with even harder lives a fresh piece of fruit every now and then? And what about Mistress Dudding, with her tidy seamstress shop, and Eryl and his gang? Life was already hard. With Thorold in power many of them wouldn’t survive.

  Brenna saw a flash of Thieves Quarter, buildings ablaze and the night sky lit with by fires. She watched from afar as a roof collapsed and flames shot high into the air. Then it was gone. She shuddered and clutched her arms tighter around her knees. Was this a vision? Is this what will happen under Thorold’s rule? She prayed to the old gods that this wouldn’t come true.

  She’d thought to discredit Duke Thorold and prove that he was a traitor. Now she realized that wouldn’t be enough. Thorold’s power was too entrenched. Even if he was condemned, Beldyn would pardon his father once he was king.

  Only the Brotherhood was willing to oppose Thorold – and then only if she led them.

  She didn’t want this. She didn’t believe she was the one foretold by the prophecy. But did it matter? The Brotherhood believed she was the one. Kane believed she was the one. It seemed that the choice was either her or Thorold. Could she walk away from Kingsreach, from Soule, knowing that she alone had a chance to change things, that she alone had the chance, just a chance, to try to make things better?

  No. Thorold could not be allowed to rule Soule. He could not be allowed to twist the laws and mistreat the people for his own gain. Brenna would and could use the Brotherhood and the prophesy to make sure he didn’t succeed. She wasn’t the heir but she would be the figurehead for the Brotherhood so that Thorold could be defeated. Time enough later to decide who would rule, as long as it wasn’t Duke Thorold.

  With the decision to work with the Brotherhood made, a sense of peace, a sense of rightness seeped into her. More relaxed than she’d been in weeks, Brenna closed her eyes to wait.

  Early in the afternoon the door to the cell room opened and Dasid entered.

  “It’s time,” he said. “The king has asked Duke Thorold and Kane to convene in his audience chamber. As we’d hoped, Thorold has not charged you with trespassing or theft. He’s claimed that you are a runaway indentured servant with an outstanding debt owed to him.” He passed a clean white shirt through the iron bars to her. “Put this on. Kane asked that you be present and the king has agreed. You can leave your pack here.”

  Brenna turned her back, pulled her black shirt off and donned the white one. It was a little big, but at least she was no longer dressed as a thief. She shoved her pack under the straw, turned and stepped through the open cell door.

  “I’m ready,” she said. She tried to smile, but her stomach was in knots. What if Thorold’s claim on her was granted? What if he convinced the king to hand her over to him? Kane said she should trust him and right now that was the only thing she could do.

  “It shouldn’t be too bad,” Dasid said. “We have a defense for this charge. But don’t show any anger towards Duke Thorold. He’ll be calm and reasonable when stating his case and we’ll be the same. Above all, try to look like you’re not a threat.”

  Brenna nodded and followed Dasid through corridors and past the curious stares of Kingsguardsmen. Dasid stopped in front of two guards who stood beside a small wooden door.

  “Here we are,” he said and pushed it open.

  The room they entered was large, its arrangement vaguely familiar. Then she placed it. Duke Thorold’s salon was set up the same, although his room hadn’t been this grand.

  King Mattias sat on the throne opposite the door. He wore a fine black leather vest over a shimmering white silk shirt. Black brocade breeches were tucked into black leather boots so supple Brenna knew they would make no sound on the marble floor. His thinning grayish hair was held back with a simple black ribbon.

  The stark black and white clothing emphasized the yellow tinge under the pallor of the king’s skin. He was very ill. How long would he live? A year? Two? The prospect of Thorold reigning over Soule became real to Brenna. Her steps faltered when she remembered her vision of Thieves Quarter in flames. Then Dasid took her elbow and pulled her towards the king.

  Two tables in front of the throne were piled with various scrolls and books. Kane stood behind one table, serious and commanding in his formal dress uniform.

  At the other table sat Duke Thorold and his scholar, Fridrick. Brenna concentrated on remaining calm as she walked past Thorold and stopped in between the two tables. Dasid backed away until he stood at Kane’s side.

  “So this is the woman all the fuss is about.” King Mattias’ voice was still strong, despite the obvious signs of illness. “She hardly looks worth it to me.”

  At the humor in his voice, Brenna looked up. Shocked, she quickly lowered her gaze. Up close, the king appeared even more ill. With effort, Brenna brought her attention back to the proceedings. She had to know her own fate before she could spend energy on what ailed the king.

  “Your Majesty, she does indeed seem worth little,” Thorold said calmly. “But it is the principle of the matter. Indentured servants simply cannot be allowed to run away without paying their debts. I’m sure that Captain Rowse will agree with me on that.”

  “I certainly agree with Duke Thorold on that point, your Majesty,” Kane said. “However I am currently not able to verify that this woman did run away from the duke’s household.”

  “You dare to challenge my word?” Thorold’s voice was low and dangerous.

  “Unfortunately it’s not your word I’m questioning, my Lord Duke, but your record keeping.” Kane gestured to the books on the table in front of him. “After our discussion with Duke Thorold this morning and after interviewing the woman in question, Kingsguard Addems and I checked all the Comackian records surrounding the year in question. We’ve found no reports indicating that one of the Duke’s servants ran away. There is no record of any outstanding debt owed by her. There isn’t even a record of her being indentured in the first place. In the absence of these proofs I simply cannot hand this woman over to the Duke. I would be failing my oath to uphold the laws of Soule.”

  “This is most unusual, Captain,” King Mattias said. “We certainly must hold to t
he law. Duke Thorold, what think you of this?”

  “Your Majesty,” Thorold said. “I feel I am in the unfortunate position of having my word brought into question because of a clerical error.”

  Brenna heard the edge of anger underneath the conciliatory tone in Duke Thorold’s voice. Someone would pay for this later, she knew.

  “This woman,” Thorold continued. “Was certainly part of my household, as was her mother before her. I insist she be given back into my custody at once.”

  “Your Majesty,” Kane said. “Once again we seem to have run into some, um, clerical errors. We’ve not been able to find any reference to this woman’s mother. I’m at a loss to explain this since the accounts from the two time frames in question are clearly written by two different hands. Frankly, I’m concerned about the validity of any of Duke Thorold’s accounts. Duke Thorold, do these same clerks record your tax accounts?”

  King Mattias glared at the duke. Thorold didn’t squirm but Brenna did see a bead of sweat roll down his neck. Had Thorold been cheating the king out of taxes? As a thief she knew how much people hated being stolen from. The king would be no different.

  “Your Majesty,” Kane continued. “As I said we did question the young woman. She admits to growing up in Duke Thorold’s household, the daughter of an indentured servant. We might simply be dealing with a clerical error. However, according to the young woman she left on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, as is her right under the laws of Soule. And there is nothing in this record to show she had any outstanding debts.”

  Kane had turned the tables on the duke. Thorold would be forced to defend all of his accounts, including the ones that proved she was not indentured to him, just to keep his tax records from coming under more scrutiny.

  As the discussion flowed around her, Brenna turned her attention to King Mattias. His sallow, yellow-toned skin, his thinning hair and the sweetish scent of his illness reminded her of Mistress Dudding’s brother before his liver failed him completely. But some of the other symptoms - the glassy eyes and the sweat that slicked down his hair, did not fit that disease.

  Kane seemed comfortable and almost amused by the current discussion, so Brenna relaxed a little and concentrated on the king. She compared what she knew about diseases with his symptoms, starting with the most common and moving towards the most obscure. When she had run through all the diseases she could think of, she started over. She must have missed one. Unless …

  “Your Majesty,” Kane said. “I suggest that if we are finished with the initial charges it would be appropriate to remove the young lady at this point.”

  “Yes, of course,” Mattias said. “By all means, let her go, let her go. Duke Thorold, I suggest you send to Comack for your own personal records. I’ll have my clerks go through them.”

  King Mattias rose slowly. Brenna followed Kane’s lead and bowed low as the King left the room, followed by his guards. Dasid edged over to her and led her back into the corridors of the castle. After a quick stop to retrieve her pack they made their way to Kane’s office.

  “That went well,” Dasid said as soon as he closed the door. He motioned to a chair and Brenna sat down while he sat behind the desk. “We looked through the records a few days ago and found no mention of either you or your mother. We didn’t want to mention it to you in case the argument didn’t succeed or Thorold laid the trespassing charge.”

  “Thank you,” Brenna said. “Trespassing would have been the most obvious charge. I was caught inside his estate.”

  “You were caught in his private office,” Dasid amended. “We’re lucky he over-reached himself and tried to get total control of you. Having you jailed and released again was not what he wanted.”

  “No. And I am lucky,” Brenna agreed. She grinned in relief and was rewarded with one of Dasid’s rare smiles. The door opened and they both turned as Kane strode in.

  “Well, that’s it then.” Kane sat in the chair beside her.

  “That’s it,” Brenna echoed. “Thank you. Now what do we do?”

  “We leave Kingsreach,” Kane said. “This will only make Thorold more furious. I’ve just resigned my commission as Captain of the Kingsguard.”

  “Can you do that?” Brenna asked. “Simply resign?” She was a little surprised, but she understood the truth of it. Thorold would not stop. He would try to kill her - and Kane too, despite his rank. His former rank.

  “The king didn’t like it,” Kane said. “But I told him that the continuous disagreements between Duke Thorold and myself were causing him undue stress. He cannot afford that in his condition. In the end he agreed.” Kane shook his head sadly. “In part because he was simply too tired to argue. Uncle Feiren will be asked to take over until a new captain can be named.” He looked at Dasid. “Unfortunately I don’t think it will be you, although I’ve already advised the king you’re my choice.”

  “Which is what we expected,” Dasid said. “If Thorold spends his energy making sure his own man is chosen for the captaincy he won’t pay attention to other things.”

  “What other things?” Brenna asked.

  “The former captain leaving town with a known thief,” Kane said.

  “When do we leave?” Brenna asked.

  “Tomorrow,” Kane said. “Thorold won’t do anything today, not so soon after the matter being decided by King Mattias. He’ll put a plan into action soon, though. He isn’t the type of man to let something like this slide.”

  “Tomorrow,” Brenna repeated. “That doesn’t give me much time. I need to get to the Collegium library right away.”

  “No,” Kane said. “Absolutely out of the question. I’m taking you back to my uncle’s house and you won’t be leaving it even if I have to tie you down and stand guard all night.”

  “You could try,” Brenna said. “But you’ll take me to the library first. The king is being poisoned and I need to confirm what I think is being used on him.”

  Thorold sat in quiet fury. Absently he picked up the glass of wine on the desk in front of him. It was his favorite vintage, shipped from the Talis Islands in the Southern Sea. Usually he savored the rich fruity taste, but today he barely tasted it at all. By the One-God, how could Kane Rowse have gotten the best of him? And he’d risked his position to save a thief. Why? It didn’t make sense. The man had barged into his home and then used his access to the records all to keep that brat free.

  It was that witch’s fault. Ever since she’d told him she was his son’s daughter and not his he’d had a sick feeling. If he’d missed something that significant he might have missed something else as well, something more important to his plans. He had to get Beldyn to Kingsreach as soon as possible. His second born son had always been a biddable child, but he’d thought that of his eldest son too. The king had accepted Beldyn as his royal heir but it was Thorold who would hold the power. There was no way he would let anyone, even his own son, especially his own son, forget that. It was humiliating to think that all those years ago Alastair had deceived him, but knowing that the witch and her mother had fooled him for so long was intolerable.

  Thorold reached down and opened the bottom desk drawer. He had the mother’s knife, the one he’d killed her with. He’d use it to kill the daughter as well. He activated the switch that opened the false bottom. Empty. His body shook with rage. She’d stolen something after all. His rage subsided and an uneasy feeling settled over him. How had she known where to find the knife? Curse that disloyal guard and Kane Rowse for allowing this to happen. It was too late for him to report the loss of the knife - the king had already freed the witch. But there were other ways to take care of problems. He rang for a servant.

  “Bring me the captain of my guard,” he said. The man bowed and hurried out of the room. It was time he sent a strong message to the witch and Rowse.

  Kane sat across from his uncle. He and Brenna had just returned from the library. It was time to tell Uncle Feiren the news.

  “From what I saw today,” Brenna said. “The
King is very ill. I doubt he’ll live more than two years.”

  “As bad as that?” Feiren asked.

  “Yes,” Brenna replied. “He might not even have that long. I don’t know how fast his illness has been progressing. Kane tells me his health has deteriorated significantly in the past five or six years. He has yellow skin, thin hair and he smells very sweet, which are the symptoms of a liver wasting disease. But he also has glassy eyes and excessive sweating. Those are specific signs of long term trefell poisoning. Trefell is a rare plant that grows in very high altitudes.”

  “Like they have in Comack,” Kane interjected. He didn’t need to say it. Who else but Thorold would be doing this? And doing it during his term as captain of the Kingsguard. He had failed to protect the king.

  “Yes,” Brenna agreed. “Trefell is extremely toxic, but in low doses it doesn’t kill. At least not right away. According to the book I found in the library it was originally used in small doses to keep those who have lost their wits docile. However, long-term use is deadly - the patient’s organs became unable to clear the body of natural toxins - their skin takes on a yellowish cast and their hair thins. When enough toxins build up in the body, the eyes seem almost coated and the body tries to eliminate the toxins through sweat.”

  “Can we reverse it?” asked Feiren.

  “No,” Brenna said. “The damage to the body is done. But we might be able to counter the poison so that the symptoms get no worse. Perhaps the king’s health could improve a little over time with proper care, but it’s hard to predict.”

  “What do we need to do?” Feiren asked.

  “I can create an antidote,” Brenna said. “But finding the correct dose will be difficult and could take some time.”

  “There’s no proof,” Kane said. “But Thorold must be behind this. His son is the king’s heir. He has the most to gain.”

  “I think it was my mother who gave Thorold the information about Trefell,” Brenna stated. “Remember I told you that when I was fifteen my mother made me learn all about poisons? Well, the timing fits. That was seven years ago, just about the time I believe the king was first started on the poison.”