by Jane Glatt
Brenna nodded. “Without an antidote, the king will last no more than a year, perhaps two. It’s possible that even a small amount of antidote could counteract the poisons in his body enough to extend that time by months or years. But the best we could hope for, even with the best treatment, is three or four years.”
“How do you know this?” Stobert asked.
“I’m a healer,” Brenna said. “I was taught by my mother.
“And you’re sure?”
She nodded and Stobert seemed to shrink down into his chair.
“Duke Ewart is needed on the king’s council,” Stobert said after a moment.
“Yes, I’ll arrange a meeting for Kane. He’ll be happy to meet with the former Captain of the Kingsguard. Brenna, I’m not sure I can include you. He’s not Brotherhood.”
Brenna looked at him solemnly. “My mother was a healer - Duke Thorold’s healer. That’s how I know about this poison. My father was Thorold’s oldest son, Alastair. My father was Duke Ewart’s cousin.”
“The prophecy,” Westley said. He looked at her in surprise. “You have two of the four bloodlines. I will try to get you included in the meeting.”
“Do your best,” Kane said.
Brenna leaned back in her chair. Why did she feel that Lord Stobert had no intention of allowing her meet with Duke Ewart?
eighteen
Thorold studied his captain. The man had clearly been through much; his uniform was dirty and torn and there was blood on his right sleeve.
“Captain,” Thorold said. “You didn’t recognize any of them, but you believe they are of this Brotherhood?”
“Yes sir. Rowse very clearly greeted one of them as Brother.”
“And their swords were alight?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Barton replied. “The girl, the witch, she seemed to be the one controlling it. Her knife and Rowse’s sword lit up first. It was a surprise that, but it didn’t seem to do anything other than give off some light.”
“A surprise,” Thorold said. “Yes, I’m sure it was.” There must be more to it than just the light.
“Then the other men arrived with swords blazing,” Barton continued. “At one point all their weapons went dark, then the older man said it would be nice if they had some light and two swords lit up again. The witch asked if that was enough. When they left us in the woods I could still see the glow from one of those bloody swords.” Barton swayed slightly.
“Thank you, Captain, you may go get some rest,” Thorold said. “But not too much. You need to take more men and go after them. You must be discreet since you’ll be in Fallad. You have twenty four hours.”
Barton nodded and turned and left.
“Boy,” he said to the page who stood by the door. “Get me Master Fridrick.” The page scurried off to find the scholar.
Fridrick hadn’t found out nearly enough information about the Brotherhood and Thorold had very little patience left. He needed to know what the Brotherhood was and how Feiren and Kane Rowse, and this girl, fit into it. At least now he knew how the old priest had been able to see the thief. But why was this witch, his own flesh and blood, able to make the weapons light up?
Kane sat up and stretched his stiff muscles. He was getting used to sleeping on the floor. It wasn’t actually much harder than his cot at the barracks had been. What he hadn’t gotten used to was sharing a room with Brenna. He hoped he could manage his feelings better once they were camping out in the open. In the small room, the rustle of her mattress and her soft snores constantly reminded him that she was not meant for him. But the more time he spent with her, the more he was drawn to her. She was smart and funny and challenging and annoying. And so brave.
Since the night of the healer’s death Brenna’s whole life had changed. She’d faced that head on without letting them take away all of her independence. Going out into the city at night when the church wanted you dead had not been the safest thing to do, but she hadn’t let fear cripple her. It was that spirit that had found a way into his heart.
Brenna had some feelings for him. He’d seen it in her eyes. But he was afraid that if he let himself, he would fall so hard and fast and deep that he would never be able to give her up. She was the heir to the prophecy. She was destined to sit on the throne of Soule. Any marriage would need to be a political alliance. And he’d sworn an oath, the oath he’d left the king’s service to fulfill. He needed to guide and protect Brenna as the prophecy unfolded. He would not jeopardize that, no matter how tempted.
Quietly, Kane rose and left the room in search of breakfast.
In the kitchen, the cook and her staff made up a tray for him and soon he was back at the door to their room. Was she still asleep? Part of him hoped for a few moments to simply study her face. Enough. He settled the tray in one hand and knocked on the room door. He waited a few seconds before he opened it.
“I’ve brought breakfast,” he said and then almost dropped the tray.
Brenna sat on the side of the bed as she tied the laces on her shirt. Kane swallowed hard as she covered up her bare skin. He set the tray down on the side table and backed away. By the time she looked up at him he’d recovered and was leaning casually, so he hoped, against the wall.
“Thank you,” Brenna said. “Did you manage to get us something hot?”
“Yes. There’s ham and the bread’s just out of the oven.” He wandered over to the window and drew the curtain aside. The day looked dull and dreary.
“Are you feeling up for the ride?” Kane asked. She hadn’t complained much yesterday but she’d moved as though she was stiff and sore. The wild ride and fight with Barton and his men had caused him some aches and pains. He’d had to kill two men, something he hadn’t had to do in a long time. He’d forgotten how much harder than training a real fight was - and how much longer it took to recover physically. He dropped the curtain. Today he felt old.
Kane looked over at her. One at a time, she bent her knees and lifted them towards her chest. Then she stretched her arms over her head. The fabric of her shirt tightened over the swell of her breasts and Kane turned back to the window.
“I think I’m fine,” Brenna said. “We’ll see what a day in the saddle does to me, though. Do you think we’ll be staying in an inn tonight?”
“We may. I rather doubt our friend Lord Stobert likes sleeping in the rain.” He crossed to the table and picked up a plate and handed it to her.
“Here, eat up,” Kane said. “We need to get going.”
Through the drizzle, Brenna could still see the shadowy peaks of the Godswall mountains. She swiveled forward in her saddle. Farmland stretched ahead. Cold rain trickled down her back and she hunched under her cloak as Blaze plodded after Runner. She pushed her wet hair out of her eyes again. Where was the gods’ forsaken inn? They’d passed one an hour ago but Stobert had insisted they keep going. There was another, better inn further on, he’d said. If she’d been asked she would have told them better was not needed for her, but she hadn’t been asked, she’d been told. Add that to her physical misery and now, in late afternoon, her mood was as foul as the day. The numbness that had started with her hands had slowly spread to the rest of her body. She slapped her legs beneath her cloak, leaving damp handprints on the rough gray wool. The only good thing about this ride was that she was so cold she could no longer feel her aching muscles.
“How are you?” Kane dropped back beside her.
She glared up at him and he laughed. She scowled. Kane seemed in good spirits despite the rain. Even wet, his hat and cloak looked dashing, rather than bedraggled; as she was sure she looked.
“Tell me again when I’ll get used to riding,” Brenna said. She grimaced at the cold puffs of air her breath made. “And tell me we’re almost at the inn.”
“Yes, we’re not far now, I’m told. Just another half hour or so.”
“Thank the gods. I can’t wait to be warm and dry. That’s if anything I own will be dry after all this rain.” She looked up at him through th
e drizzle. “Did you know we were leaving right in the middle of the rainy season?”
“The rainy season is already past,” he said. “This is just one day of rain. We’re likely to run into more as we go. You can’t have good farmland without it.” He gestured to the fields on either side of them.
Brenna thought the crops looked like they’d been doing just fine without today’s rain.
“I guess so,” she said. “In Kingsreach I never really had to worry. I usually just stayed inside until it stopped.” She shrugged. “I don’t have that choice now, do I?”
“Just be thankful we don’t have to sleep in it,” Kane said. “Making camp and trying to get a fire started is hard work when it’s wet.”
Kane returned to whatever conversation there was amongst the Brothers and Brenna soon fell back into solitary contemplation of her misery.
She only had half an hour to endure. That was it. Then she’d get a warm bath. She could do that. She just needed to distract herself. She concentrated on the old steel around her. This close to her, it took very little effort to reach out to it. But her attempts to glean anything from those who bore the old steel weren’t successful. Either she was projecting her own discomfort on the rest of the party or everyone else felt as wretched as she did.
Westley Stobert’s laughter drifted back down the line to her. Not everyone was miserable, then. But she couldn’t tell his mood from her link to him through the old steel. Maybe she’d never be able to get that kind of information from old steel. In the end, without the energy for anything else, Brenna simply stared down at Blaze’s neck and counted the plodding steps. One, two, three, four. And then she’d start over. One, two … suddenly Blaze stopped.
“We’re here,” Kane said.
Brenna’s head snapped up. They were in a well-kept but muddy yard. A young boy ran from the stables and grabbed the reins of the first horse he saw. Kane swung down off Runner and turned to help her slide of Blaze. Her knees buckled and she felt herself pressed into Kane’s body. Despite the chill and their damp cloaks, her body warmed where it rested against his.
“Here, let’s get you inside.”
“No. I should take care of Blaze.” Despite her own discomfort, poor Blaze had it even worse. The only dry spot on the animal was the Brenna shaped one where she’d been sitting.
“No,” Kane said. “The inn has a number of stable boys, so Blaze will be in fine hands. Stobert tells me he’s well known here and is always generous when his mounts get good care. There’s no need to worry. Let’s get you inside. I think another hot bath is required.”
Brenna nodded. “On one condition,” she said. “You have the bath first. I mean it.”
Brenna saw Kane as soon as she entered the common room. He was at table in back so she snaked her way through the crowd to him. He smiled when she slid onto the bench beside him.
“I almost feel human,” Brenna said.
“Good,” Kane said. “I’ve ordered our meal already- venison stew and bread. I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t feel up to eating with Westley and his guards.”
“Fine with me,” Brenna said. Her shoulders relaxed in relief. “Not that the guards have even said more than two words to me anyway.” She wrinkled her nose. “I still don’t trust them. When I sense Lord Stobert through old steel sometimes I get an uneasy feeling.”
“Really?” Kane said. “Have you had this before?”
“A few times. But it doesn’t last long and then I wonder if I felt anything at all.”
“He has reservations about the heir being a woman,” Kane said. “Maybe you could spend some time with him tomorrow? I think that’s all he needs.”
“I’ll try,” Brenna said. It would give her a chance to see if his physical responses matched what she felt through old steel. “I still plan on meeting with Duke Ewart.”
“I’ll talk to Lord Stobert again,” Kane said. “After you’ve spent some time with him. I wish he had come to the meet in Kingsreach - Uncle Feiren would have convinced him. For two thousand years the Brotherhood has become very good at waiting. Now that it’s time to act, some will find it a difficult adjustment. ”
“That could be what I’m feeling from him,” Brenna said. “His indecision.” But what if Lord Stobert never adjusted, what if he never felt comfortable enough to act? What then? She’d do what she always did - she’d make her own decision, her own plans. She was going to meet with Duke Ewart whether Stobert agreed or not.
Their meal arrived and they both concentrated on eating. By the time she’d sopped up the last of the gravy with a piece of dark bread, Brenna could barely keep her eyes open. She left Kane in the common room, trudged up the stairs and went to bed.
Brenna woke up instantly. Gingerly she stretched her legs out. Nothing hurt too badly. She could hear Kane’s even breathing from where he lay on the floor beside the bed. As quietly as she could, she sat up, grabbed her shirt and breeches and slipped them on. She had to step over Kane before she could reach her socks and boots, but she tripped over his blanket and stepped into him. A hand snapped out and grabbed her leg. Off balance, she slid to the floor.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
Kane shook his head and smiled. His chin was dark with stubble and his eyes were still half closed. He turned onto his side and she leaned into him. Beneath the thin blanket Brenna could feel the warmth of his body against her back. Heat flooded through her and she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. It had been a while since she’d bedded a man. Kane would be … interesting. And complicated.
“I was going to get us some breakfast,” she said.
“Good idea.” Kane leaned his head on his hand and looked up at her. “Although I wish you’d been a little quieter about it. What happened to the stealthy thief?”
“She’s been subjected to days of torturous riding,” she said. “I may never recover.” She met his gaze and her smile faltered. The look in his eyes was more than simple attraction. She had to remember that he believed she was the prophesied heir to the throne. Any relationship they developed, whether it was as trail companions, friends, or bedmates, would hold so much meaning for him. Kane had been far too generous and kind to her for her to treat his feelings with no regard.
One hand on his shoulder, she steadied herself as she stood up.
“I’ll be back soon.” She pulled on her boots, grabbed a purse and slipped out the door.
Over the next three days, Brenna made an effort to talk to Lord Stobert. They were in his lands and he took much delight in telling Brenna details of the farms and villages that they passed. The weather was more co-operative and for long stretches they rode in the hot sun, fields on both sides of the road high with corn, wheat and other crops.
Brenna couldn’t sense anything unusual about Stobert or his men when she tried to read them through old steel so perhaps Kane had been right and Stobert had simply needed some time to accept her. He still hadn’t committed to having her meet Duke Ewart, and it made her uneasy. If he believed, truly believed, wouldn’t he want her to meet the duke?
Brenna did find riding easier. She no longer felt stiff and sore in the mornings and her legs were steady when she dismounted. Inns were frequent and they continued to stop each night, but she no longer required a hot bath to ease her aching muscles. She wondered how much all of this travel cost, but when she asked Kane about it he assured her he had more than enough coin.
Brenna had been nervous all day. It was their last evening before they reached Silverdale and she and Kane were to dine with Stobert. Tomorrow they would enter the city, and although Lord Stobert had assured them he had a plan, he had not yet told them what it was. Tonight, he’d promised, they would find out. Although at this point Brenna was of a mind to simply thank him and make her own way into town. If she didn’t like his plan she would leave.
The inn, so close to Silverdale, was more refined than some of the ones they’d stayed at along the way. Stobert had commandeered a private dining room, a
nd when Brenna arrived, she’d found Stobert and Kane already in conversation.
“Brenna,” Lord Stobert said. “Come in. Shall I pour you some wine?”
“Please.” She took the glass he handed to her and sat down beside Kane.
She and Kane had been painfully polite and distant with each other ever since that morning a few days ago. For her part, Brenna was trying to ignore her increasing attraction to Kane. She supposed he was doing the same. But it was difficult. Some nights she found herself awake, listening to him breathe, and her heart ached. Ever since her mother was killed she’d felt alone. Kane was changing that, making her feel that she wasn’t isolated, that she could depend on someone – she could depend on him. But it was because he believed she was something she wasn’t - the heir to the prophesy. That was enough betrayal for her to live with. She wouldn’t compound it by bedding him. He deserved more from her.
“Are you ready to tell us what you have planned?” Kane asked.
Lord Stobert leaned back in his chair, his hand on the stem of his wine glass.
“I’m afraid we must wait a little while longer,” Westley said.
Brenna frowned and reached for him through the old steel. She didn’t feel anything. By habit she checked for other old steel nearby. There, a little ways away, was a piece that felt familiar.
“I believe your man has returned,” Brenna said. “I think you said his name was Kersey?” It was the same man, the same weapon, she’d felt the night Westley and his men had saved them.
“He is due to meet us here,” Westley said. “I’ve been waiting for him.”
“So he was sent to make our arrangements,” Kane said.
“Based on some options I gave him, yes.”
