Thief (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 1)

by Jane Glatt

  “Humph. Add in a hot breakfast and I’ll consider it.”

  Kane nodded. It was his responsibility to make sure she could manage her horse and get herself out of danger. And buy her enough time to do it, if it came to that.

  The rest of the day was spent riding through well-tended farmlands. This close to Kingsreach, the farms were close together, with only an occasional rocky plot left barren. As they moved further away from the foothills, the woodlots of evergreens were dotted with maple and ash.

  The inn they stopped at looked prosperous and safe. It was nestled amongst a copse of trees at a crossroad. Kane made arrangements for their horses and secured a room - paying an extra two coppers to have the owner’s daughter haul a basin and hot water to the room.

  He grabbed Brenna’s pack and pushed it into her arms. “Go have your bath. Meet me in the common room when you’re finished.”

  After she’d headed up the stairs, Kane went to the stable to check on the horses. The inn looked reputable, but he needed to be doubly cautious. He was no longer Captain of the Kingsguard - he no longer had the authority that came with the uniform. And they were in Duke Thorold’s lands.

  The horses looked well cared for. He treated both Blaze and Runner to apples he bought off an enterprising stable boy. He also promised the boy an extra coin in the morning if he was still satisfied with their care. Then it was time to look after his and Brenna’s supper.

  He chose a table in the corner, opposite the bar. From it, he had a clear view of the tavern room, the entrance, and the stairs to the rooms above. He sat down, his back against the wall, and ordered an ale.

  Brenna leaned back in the tub with a sigh. Even though the water was no longer steaming, it still soothed her sore muscles. She’d taken a few minutes to add some crushed lavender to her bath water and she felt rested and refreshed by it. The inn keep’s daughter had offered to bring more hot water, but Brenna had declined. Now that her body aches had subsided her empty stomach was more noticeable. She sighed and stretched one last time, then stood up and reached for the drying cloth.

  Once dry she rubbed a salve on the worst of her aching muscles and donned a clean set of clothes. Now she felt ready to tackle the stairs.

  Brenna felt out of place as she stood in the doorway to the common room. In Thieves Quarter, she’d never felt self-conscious but here in the country, a woman wearing breeches seemed unusual. Conscious of many eyes on her she spotted Kane and headed his way.

  She slid onto the bench beside him.

  “Perhaps I should have packed a skirt,” she said. Brenna caught the eye of a serving girl and signaled for a mug of ale. “Our fellow travelers seem very interested in the way I’m dressed.” As she gazed around the room, heads ducked and eyes turned away from her.

  Besides the bench she and Kane shared, the round table they sat at had three other benches pulled up to it. She and Kane, the only ones seated at their table, both had their backs to the wall. The other six tables in the common room held a collection of merchants and locals of varying degrees of wealth, judging by their clothing.

  “Do you own a skirt?” Kane asked. She watched his eyes dart around the room as he sipped his ale. He obviously didn’t feel any more relaxed than she did.

  “Of course I own a skirt.” She paused when her own ale arrived and took a sip. “Well, I used to, anyway. I left it back in my old rooms. No doubt Eryl’s given it to one of his women by now. It’s fitting actually, since he’s the one who gave it to me.”

  “Trying to domesticate you?”

  “Maybe. It did come in handy a few times as a disguise, though,” Brenna said. “Eryl always thought that was funny, that I’d need to disguise myself as a woman.” Brenna took another sip.

  “Eryl’s a fool,” Kane said quietly. “Ah, here’s supper.” He leaned back as the serving girl set two bowls and a plate of dark bread in front of them. “I hope you don’t mind that I ordered the beef stew rather than the fried fish. We’ll be traveling beside the river for a few days so there’ll be time to eat fish another day.”

  Brenna sniffed at the bowl before her. “This smells great.” What had Kane meant by that comment about Eryl? She grabbed her spoon and dipped it into the stew. Did it mean he thought of her as a woman and not just the heir to the prophecy? She put a spoonful of stew in her mouth and chewed slowly. Maybe he hadn’t meant anything by his comment. Maybe it had just been a general opinion about Eryl. The old gods knew he often was a fool.

  It didn’t take long for Brenna to feel sleepy once her belly was full. Soon after she popped the last piece of gravy soaked bread into her mouth, her eyes drooped and she tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a yawn. She dragged herself up the stairs and a short time later she lay quietly in bed. The muffled sounds of the common room drifted up from below.

  Kane had insisted she take the bed. He’d told her he’d check on the horses and then he’d be up. Earlier Brenna had decided that his comment about Eryl hadn’t meant anything, so why was she nervous? All they were doing was sleeping in the same room. Something they’d be doing often so she’d better get used to it. Eventually the long day caught up with her and Brenna fell into a deep sleep.

  At the knock on his study door, Thorold tucked the document he’d been reading - correspondence from Langemore’s King - underneath some other papers on his desk.

  “Enter,” he said. It was his newly appointed militia captain, Barton. Thorold had been impressed with the way the man had handled the fiasco with Kane Rowse and he’d promoted him. Barton had shown himself to be competent, unflappable and above all ambitious.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “My Lord. I’ve just had word that Kane Rowse and the girl left Kingsreach. I thought you would want to know as soon as possible.”

  “When was this?” He’d expected the girl to run, but with the Captain of the Kingsguard? And the man had resigned from his position just the day before. What was their connection? He didn’t like this at all.

  “Just before dawn,” Barton said. “Apparently they crossed into Comack on the ferry this morning. They were seen along the road to Silverdale shortly after that.”

  “Hmm, that’s almost twelve hours ago,” Thorold said. He had a pretty good idea of where they would have stopped for the night. “Captain, well done. Send some men after them. If they leave now, they should be able to catch up with Rowse and the girl before they enter Fallad.”

  “I’ll go myself,” Barton said. “My Lord.”

  “There’s more?” Thorold asked.

  “Yes my Lord. From all accounts, the two were very well provisioned.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It seemed unlikely they could have prepared so much since yesterday,” Barton said. “I asked around and Rowse and his uncle have been buying travel provisions for some time.”

  “Really? That is interesting, Captain. Thank you.” So Kane Rowse had planned to leave Kingsreach. But what about the witch? Where had she been all this time? She hadn’t been in Thieves Quarter. He would have known.

  “My Lord?” Barton said. “Here is the knife we took from the girl when she was caught in this office.” Barton stepped forward and placed a sheathed knife on his desk in front of him.

  Thorold nodded his dismissal. Barton turned and left the room and he reached for the weapon. He didn’t like mysteries and this was an uncomfortable one. Why would his bastard granddaughter and Kane Rowse travel together? First he’d defended her against him and now they’d left town together. By all accounts they shouldn’t even know each other - the Captain of the Kingsguard and a common thief. The only time they would have come into contact was when she’d been held for trying to steal the knife from the priest.

  Thorold sat up. Could that be it? Did Kane Rowse know something about her that he didn’t know? He slid the knife he held from its scabbard and stared at it.

  This knife was almost as old as the one she’d tried to steal from the priest. He’d never been satisfied with the priest’s
account of that night. How had he seen the thief in his darkened room? It wasn’t some sort of divine intervention by the One-God, but he had no other explanation.

  What was it about these weapons that were connected to the girl? The age of the weapons was similar - Kane Rowse’s sword, the knife from the priest and now this knife taken from Brenna. And he couldn’t forget the first one, the one he’d killed the girl’s mother with.

  It made sense, in a way. The witch’s knife had started him down this path, why shouldn’t her daughter be part of it as well? And the Brotherhood was somehow behind it all.

  “Fridrick!” he yelled. “Someone get that useless scholar in here now.” Thorold heard hurried steps in the hall outside the door. The door opened and Fridrick stepped in, panting as he straightened his robe.

  “Yes my Lord, you wished to see me?” Fridrick bowed low.

  “What have you found out about the Brotherhood and Rowse?”

  “Since I last reported, my Lord,” Fridrick said. “I’ve discovered that the gathering Feiren Rowse hosted some weeks back to honor a retiring Weapons Master had more than just Kingsguard in attendance. Many guests were merchants. There were even some farmers.”

  “At an event to honour a Weapons Master?” Thorold asked. “You think this was a meeting of this Brotherhood?” He remembered that party. There had been something odd about it. Oh yes, there had been very little carousing in Kingsreach afterward. Unusual for a party involving so many soldiers, but maybe not so unusual for a secret meeting of the Brotherhood.

  “I think it quite possible,” Fridrick said. “And even a hint that the newly-appointed interim Captain of the Kingsguard belonged to a secret society could be damaging.”

  “I have another piece of the puzzle,” Thorold said. “The knife I had hidden in the desk drawer has been stolen. I’m assuming the girl took it before she was found. It’s important, in some way. How did she know where to look?”

  “Why did she even want that knife?”

  “It belonged to her mother.” Thorold ignored Fridrick’s sharp intake of breath. “It’s the piece that started me down this road. I never would have begun collecting these old weapons if it hadn’t been for that knife. It’s key, I know it. But how did she know where to find it?

  “You must find out more about the Brotherhood,” Thorold said to Fridrick. “I will take care of Feiren Rowse.” A few words spoken at the right time, in the right ears, and good Captain Rowse’s reputation would suffer. And he would get his own man appointed as Captain of the Kingsguard. He would not tolerate Feiren Rowse much longer.

  seventeen

  The sounds of movement outside the door woke Brenna up. She winced when she sat up. Her back was stiff and her legs ached. Nothing in the room looked out of place, so she relaxed back into the mattress. Kane was sprawled on the floor beside the bed. She could hear his steady breathing underneath the sounds of the inn coming to life. After a few moments, she gave up on getting any more sleep.

  “By the Brothers …” Brenna said as she eased her legs onto the floor. The muscles of her thighs stretched and she stifled a grunt of pain. This had to get better. She could hardly move. Every muscle in her body ached. As quietly as she could, she dressed and left the room in search of breakfast.

  Downstairs, the common room was empty so she poked her head through the kitchen door. A serving girl sorted out tea and food and a few minutes later she navigated the stairs back to the room with a heavy tray. Moving around had helped loosen up her aching muscles and she was able to open the door and shove the tray through it without dropping anything. When she looked up, a rumpled Kane was pulling on his shirt.

  “You’ve brought breakfast?” He took the tray from her and she closed the door. “Thank you.” He set the tray down, picked up the pot and poured the tea.

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “You slept in.” She grabbed a steaming mug and a warm roll. She bit into the roll and sighed as she savored the combination of sharp cheese and warm bread. “I thought military men all rose with the sun.” Although she was glad he’d still been asleep. It would have been awkward to try to dress with him awake.

  “Before the sun, actually,” Kane said. “I was awake when you got up. I preferred to let you get breakfast.”

  “Such a gentleman,” she said. “What if I hadn’t brought anything back for you?” He’d pretended to be asleep? Maybe Kane was feeling odd about this too.

  “But you did,” Kane said. He took a swallow of tea and then a bite of his roll.

  “Maybe next time I won’t,” Brenna said. She popped the last of her own roll into her mouth.

  “I’ll have to get breakfast next time, then,” he said. “How are you feeling today? Are you ready to ride?”

  Brenna rolled her tight shoulders and winced. “I’ll do,” she said. “Thank the gods I had a bath and used the salve.” She turned to put her knife into her pack.

  “Here.” Kane dropped a worn leather belt into her hand. “I think you should wear your knife now that we’re out of Kingsreach. This should fit you.”

  Brenna’s other knife, the one Feiren had given her, had been taken by Thorold’s men. Since then she’d been carrying her mother’s knife in her pack. She threaded the leather belt through her knife’s sheath and strapped it around her waist. This was the first time she’d ever worn her mother’s knife - the weight of it on her hip felt natural, as though it belonged there, and the knife purred.

  “Good, now you’ll be able to defend this.” He held out a purse to her.

  She took it from him and hefted it - it was heavy. “You’re not giving me all of it?” There was quite a lot of money in the purse. Kane trusted her, a thief, with it.

  “Just half,” Kane said. “In case we get separated. And I want your promise that if that happens, you’ll continue on to Aruntun. You should be safe enough there. Since we didn’t know where you would head, Dasid sent messages to the Brotherhood in all parts of Soule. We don’t have many contacts in Aruntun, but there are enough members there you should be able to find them eventually. Especially since you can identify old steel.”

  Brenna nodded and placed the purse inside her shirt. She had another one, her own, wrapped to her leg inside her boot. No doubt more coin would be useful, especially if she and Kane did get separated. And she expected they would take their own paths eventually. Despite what he’d told her yesterday, she couldn’t imagine him following her around for very long.

  Brenna touched her knife to take a quick look for old steel. Except for what she and Kane carried, there was none in immediate area but she could sense old steel out there, as though she was the center of a web and the strands connected her and her knife to all old steel weapons. A few of the strands seemed familiar. Without thinking, she followed one she thought was Dasid.

  “What are you doing?” Kane asked.

  Brenna snapped back to her surroundings to find Kane staring at her intently, hand on his sword.

  “Just now, what were you doing?” he repeated.

  “I was just … I don’t know, exactly. I was sensing old steel and then I saw Dasid, well, not Dasid exactly, but …” Brenna didn’t think she could describe it to him. She wasn’t even sure what she’d felt, just then.

  “I could feel it, through my sword. And it was Dasid. I could sense him too,” Kane said. He paced the small room.

  “It’s as if all old steel is somehow connected to me and my knife. My mother’s knife,” she said. “The first time I did this was when I had this knife.”

  “The day you were caught. It was you.” Kane stopped in front of her. “I thought I heard you call my name, and then when I heard that Thorold had you ...”

  Brenna nodded slowly. “I did feel you, through the knife. Maybe I called your name. I know I wanted you to know where I was.” She glanced down at her knife again, this time in wonder.

  “When we have some time we need to see what else you can do,” Kane said. “It could be important. But for now, let’
s go. We have a long way to go today. I want to spend the night in Fallad.”

  Brenna grabbed her pack and headed for the door. She didn’t need to be told twice. She’d feel much better once they were out of Duke Thorold’s lands.

  By midafternoon her legs were in agony and her buttocks felt bruised. They’d eaten travel rations for their midday meal - hard biscuits, dried meat and a few berries Kane had found when they’d stopped. Brenna had barely managed to get herself back up on Blaze after that. Now she didn’t think she’d be able to walk the next time she dismounted. But she’d had an uncomfortable feeling all afternoon, so she’d pushed herself. She hoped it was just general uneasiness at being in Comack and had nothing to do with her abilities as a Seer.

  Kane said it was a little over two hours to the Falladian border. He’d been continuously scouting the road, both in front and behind and had given her lessons on how to canter and gallop her horse. They’d alternated between walking and cantering for the last few hours. It was even harder on her body, but she wanted, needed, to get out of Comack.

  Kane trotted up beside her.

  “Here’s where we get off the road,” he said.

  “Are we being followed?” She glanced around nervously. In the city, she’d know what to do, but here she must rely completely on Kane. She felt helpless and she hated feeling that way.

  “I haven’t seen any signs, but I don’t like where we are,” Kane said. “The land is getting so flat that soon we’ll be visible from a long way off. I’d rather be in the trees before it gets to that point.” He pointed to a distant copse of trees that ran parallel to the road. “We’ll need to go straight through the fields to get to it, but the river should be just beyond the trees. I’ll stay back and try to cover our trail. You can dismount and start walking. The corn here is tall enough to hide us from a distance.”