by Jane Glatt
Brenna felt herself being moved. A hand gripped her and her steel edge slipped into Feiren’s soft flesh. Instinctively she surged from the sword to the flesh, feeling the blood well up as the skin of another finger was cut. She flowed up Feiren’s arm, automatically numbing the nerves and halting the pain. She felt his whole body relax with relief.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes, yes, yes.” Came the reply
Brenna glided to Feiren’s heart. It still beat strongly. Gently, she slowed the rhythm until it stopped. She coursed through his body, soothing him. For a brief moment she and Feiren shared his mind before he faded from life. She looked out of Feiren’s eyes at his tormentors, detached from anything except her anger. Then she opened his mouth and spoke.
The sword cut into a second finger and then suddenly stopped. Valden jerked on the blade but to no avail. Thorold stepped closer and heard the prisoner’s last breath. He half turned to admonish the High Bishop. Then Rowse’s eyes opened and he looked directly at him with one green eye and one brown.
“Grandfather.” The voice that came from the dead man’s lips was high and thin, not at all like Feiren Rowse’s. “This death I lay at your feet, along with that of my mother.”
And then the life went out of the eyes and once again they were brown. Valden lost his grip on the sword and it slipped and shattered on the stone floor, its many pieces scattered among the blood of its owner.
Thorold backed up, his hands shaking. The High Bishop’s face was pale and his lips were bloodless.
“Witch,” Thorold spat. That witch. She’d ruined his chance to find out more. He’d teach her to meddle. Wherever she was, he’d find her.
“Witch,” Valden repeated. “Rowse was a witch. We need to scour them from Soule. Blasphemers.”
Thorold ignored the High Bishop. He only cared about the death of one particular witch. Let Valden start a holy war. It might be useful to let the church run the witches to ground, including the Duchess of Aruntun.
Kane hugged Brenna tight as she sobbed into his shoulder. She finally fell asleep shortly before dawn and he simply held her as she slept. She hadn’t told him all of it, he knew. She thought she was saving him, but the truth couldn’t be worse than his imagination. She’d said his uncle had welcomed death but her eyes had been haunted.
Uncle Feiren. Kane’s chest tightened and gulped in a breath. It didn’t make losing him hurt any less, but his uncle had died in service to his king. Even if the king didn’t know it. He knew. So did Brenna. He cradled her in his arms as he watched the sun rise above the Seven Sisters.
Kane woke up with a start and looked around their camp. The fire had burned out. The horses were picketed a few feet away and munched on what grass was left within reach. Brenna still slept curled against him. He couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour, but it had been his watch. He could not afford to put them at risk like this.
Gently he slipped out from under Brenna and laid her down. He covered her with his blanket and brushed her hair from her face. She looked exhausted. Her face was pinched and worn even in sleep. He stood and stretched his stiff muscles. Being Captain of the Kingsguard had made him soft. A few hours sitting on the ground and he could barely move. He looked over at Brenna. He’d let her sleep for a while yet.
Kane quickly had the horses saddled and most of their gear packed. He’d made a small fire in order to boil some water and now he took one steaming mug and knelt beside Brenna.
“Brenna, wake up.”
She slowly opened her eyes. Kane knew the moment sleep fell away and the realization of what had happened returned to her. She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest.
“Here’s some tea,” he said.
“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet and she turned her head away from him.
Kane retrieved his own mug and they sipped their tea in silence. When Brenna refused to eat, he silently packed the rest of the gear onto the horses. She’d talk when she was ready, he hoped. Right now he had to get her to safety. They should be able to make it to Aruntun today, but after their late start it would not be until after dark.
Gently Kane helped Brenna mount Blaze and they headed east. Shortly after noon, they stopped at a small mountain stream. Kane dismounted to refill their water skins. Brenna pulled her pack out and rummaged through it.
“I can get you something to eat,” Kane said. He handed Brenna’s full water skin up to her.
“No thanks,” she said. She took the skin and held it against her temple. “This helps though.”
“A headache?”
“A bad one. Ever since …” Brenna’s voice trailed off and she hung her head. She pulled something out of her bag. “I’ll chew on this. It will help.”
“Let me know if I can do anything,” he said.
Kane mounted Runner and looked back over their path. The rolling foothills spread out below him. Now that their path was elevated they’d be more visible to any pursuers. He’d try to keep to the valleys. He shaded his eyes and looked east. Yes, they should be able to skirt the main peaks and keep to the foothills the whole day.
Kane had just turned to Brenna when a quick flash made him stop. He squinted in the sunlight and focused on the path behind them. There, he saw it again. There was definitely something metal on the trail behind them.
“Brenna,” she turned dull eyes his way, “can you check for old steel?” She looked so weary that he hated to ask her, but he needed to know.
“There’s some behind us,” she said through clenched teeth. “It’s Barton.”
“Barton.” Kane’s heart sank. He’d caught up to them already. “With any luck he hasn’t seen us. Can you tell if there’s any more old steel?”
She grimaced and then shook her head. “No, there’s only his sword.”
“Is there any up ahead?” he asked.
Brenna shook her head. “I can’t tell. There’s none in Fallad, and Aruntun has a kind of fog over it.” He grunted in surprise and she looked at him. “I noticed it last night for the first time.”
Kane nodded and kneed Runner to a walk. Brenna fell in behind as he led them down and away from the rolling peaks. He headed for a rocky patch he’d seen from above. He couldn’t do anything about their muddy prints at the stream, but hopefully they’d lose their trail on these rocks. It would be slow going for them, though.
“Can you keep track of Barton? I need to know if he gains on us.” Kane turned in his saddle and frowned. Brenna swayed, her eyes closed. “Brenna.” She opened her eyes with a start. “Brenna, you need to stay awake.”
“Sorry, but my head aches worse than after the Brotherhood meet.” She sat taller. “I’ll keep an eye on Barton. Don’t worry.”
Kane nodded and turned back to the trail, his face grim. He wouldn’t let her fall behind. Whatever the cost to him, she had to make it to Aruntun.
Brenna struggled to keep up with Kane. She knew they were traveling slower than he wanted, but at times her head pounded so badly she could barely stay in the saddle. The willow bark she’d chewed had worked a little, but continuously checking for old steel soon brought her head ache back in full force.
Kane was leading them in a looping route, mostly through the wooded areas where the rolling hills and valleys met. Riding straight through the valleys would have been easier, but they would have been too exposed. Brenna didn’t mind the extra work spent avoiding tree limbs and rotten stumps. The coolness under the trees gave her some small relief from the throbbing of her head.
She took a quick look for Barton’s sword.
“He’s still the same distance behind us,” Brenna said. She gritted her teeth against the backlash of pain.
Kane nodded and slowed down so she could catch up to him.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine. As soon as we reach Aruntun.” Despite her headache, the closer she came to Aruntun the more energy she seemed to have. Now, as the sun finally edged towards the hills
to the west, she felt that the creeping line of dusk would wash over her and sweep away all the dirt and grime and pain of the last day.
“Let’s go then.” Kane urged Runner forward and Blaze followed. “It can’t be more than a few hours until the border and I doubt that Barton will stop there. We may need to ride all night.”
Barton and his men caught them about an hour after the sun had finally set. Brenna had seen his old steel gain on them but she and Kane were already riding as fast as they dared. She drew her knife and held it in front of her. Barton would see the bright glow but they couldn’t see the trail without it. Their best chance now was to outrun their pursuers.
Keeping her knife lit and tracking Barton’s position at the same time brought Brenna’s headache back with a vengeance. It was all she could do to ignore the pain and stay on Blaze.
The trees here were too thick for him to use his sword so Kane drew his knife as he dropped behind Brenna. She kept his knife dark as he rode between her and their pursuers. She heard a sharp grunt and looked back. Kane edged Runner away from another horse and a body slid off it and slumped to the ground. So close. A few paces behind four other horses swerved to avoid the now stopped horse and fallen rider.
Brenna headed for a rocky stream she saw up ahead. She urged Blaze forward and across and they splashed up the other side. She held her knife aloft for Kane to see by. As soon as he was across, she darkened her knife. Kane brought Runner up beside and they rode slowly up the small embankment. They heard the sounds of horses splashing into the water.
Kane heard a dull sound off in the trees. With a quick motion to Brenna he reined in Runner. There, to the left, he heard it again. He grabbed Blaze’s reins and was about to kick Runner forward when Brenna spoke.
“Kane, don’t move.” Her voice was quiet and steady behind him, so he gently dropped Blaze’s reins and relaxed. “There are archers in the trees. I’d say about eight of them.” She moved up beside him. “It’s likely they’re Aruntians. And Barton’s stopped moving. There must be more Aruntians back near the stream.”
He watched her eyes sweep the gloom around them. He followed her gaze and saw the figures crouched behind trees and beside bushes.
“We mean you no harm,” Kane said. “We’re simple travelers on our way to Aruntun.”
“What’s your business in Aruntun?”
Kane was about to ask why one needed specific business in order to travel to a part of Soule, when Brenna placed her hand on his arm.
“We’re headed for Cottle village,” Brenna said. “Does anyone know that place?”
“Aye, I’m from Cottle.” A man dressed in dark brown breaches and shirt stepped forward. “What’ye want in Cottle.”
“We’re looking for the family of healer Sabine Werrett. We’ve news of her and she told me her family would make us welcome,” Brenna said.
Another man came out of the trees. “Sabine’s my sister’s daughter. How might ye know her?”
“I met Sabine in Kingsreach.” Brenna’s voice was gentle. “And I’m afraid I have bad news.”
“She’s dead, then isn’t she?” the man asked. “My sister had a feeling. How’d she die?”
Brenna’s smile was sad. “She was at peace at the end. I was with her.”
“So, you come all this way to tell me that. I appreciate knowin’, but why?”
“She was killed because of me,” Brenna said.
Kane tensed when he heard the soft sounds of bows being stretched tight. How many arrows were pointed at them now?
“The church killed her,” Brenna said. “It was a mistake. It was me they meant to kill.”
Brenna didn’t seem to be aware of the danger and Kane wanted to warn her.
“Is that why you have men following you?” This came from a different position. A man rode forward on a large black horse. He stopped in front of Brenna and eyed her warily.
“Neal Ravershaw.” Kane grinned as the other man swiveled his head towards him. “It’s been some time since we last met.”
Neal’s eyes narrowed as he looked Kane over. Finally he sighed and motioned to the men behind him. Kane relaxed when they lowered their bows.
“Kane Rowse,” Neal said. “We last met the day you were named Captain of the Kingsguard. I didn’t expect to find you being chased in the dark in the far reaches of Aruntun.” Neal dropped his hand and eyed Brenna again. “You have a very interesting traveling companion.”
Kane laughed. For the first time since Brenna had told him about his uncle, he relaxed. “So I’ve been told. Brenna,” he gestured to her, “meet Neal Ravershaw, captain of the Aruntun militia and advisor to Duchess Avery of Aruntun.” Neal tipped his head slightly. “Neal, this is Brenna Lightfingers.”
“Mistress Lightfingers. You two will need to come with me.” Neal motioned for them to follow him.
Silently they traveled through the woods, he, Brenna and Neal, along with four others riding single file along a narrow path. The archers, at least ten that Kane counted, ghosted alongside them. It was almost half an hour before they passed a sentry and entered a small clearing. A fire blazed in front of a large tent. To Kane’s surprise a woman stood outside the tent. When they approached she opened the flap and leaned into the tent. A minute later the tent flap opened again and there, briefly silhouetted against the light from within, was the Duchess of Aruntun.
“Captain Rowse.” The duchess approached him and waited while he dismounted. “Not anyone I was expecting to see tonight.”
Kane bowed low. “Duchess. I feel the same about you. But I might add I’m not unhappy to see you.”
Duchess Avery laughed. Kane turned to catch Brenna as she slipped from her saddle. She took two shaky steps towards him and he grasped her, keeping one arm around her shoulders to help steady her. Duchess Avery and Neal Ravershaw were a welcome sight, but that didn’t mean he trusted them. Why were they out here? It was a very long way from the Duchess’ home in southern Aruntun.
“Yes, I imagine you expected to meet much worse,” the duchess said. Neal slipped off his horse and joined her. He bent his silvered head to hers and whispered in her ear.
“Your friends were stopped at the border, as all uninvited guests are.” She peered at Brenna in the firelight. “The question is why you weren’t? How did you get past the magical barrier?”
The duchess took another step closer. Brenna lifted her head and Duchess Avery’s eyes widened in surprise.
“A Seer.” Duchess Avery’s eyes narrowed. “That explains much. I welcome you to Aruntun.” Kane saw the duchess glance briefly to the woman standing outside the tent.
“Please come inside.” Duchess Avery gestured to the tent. “We have much to talk about, you and I. Bring Kane with you.”
Brenna grabbed her pack from Blaze and headed toward the tent. Kane held the tent flap back and Brenna stepped past him. Kane went to follow her and met the gaze of the woman who stood outside. He stopped. She had two different colored eyes, just like Brenna. He nodded to her then entered the tent and let the flap fall behind him.
A warm glow of lamplight met Brenna as she entered the tent. She was comforted by Kane’s solid presence behind her as she followed the duchess towards a set of small three legged chairs that ringed a low table. Brenna sat down in the chair opposite the duchess. Her head still ached but much of the worst pain had subsided as soon as she’s crossed into Aruntun. She didn’t know what that meant but she welcomed the relief.
Kane seated himself to her left. Outwardly he was relaxed but she could sense his wariness. She dropped her hand to her knife. Kane did not trust this situation.
Neal Ravershaw entered and seated himself at the remaining chair.
“What family are you from, Brenna?” Avery asked.
“I’m not sure I understand you, Duchess.” Brenna looked at Kane, who shook his head slightly.
“You’re obviously a Seer, so I’m wondering what family of Seers you hail from,” Avery said.
“I t
hink there’s a mistake,” Brenna said. Avery seemed nervous. What did the Duchess of Aruntun have to fear in her own land surrounded by her guards? “I’ve been told I have Seer’s eyes, but I’m not from Aruntun.”
“And where was your mother born?”
“She was born in Comack,” Brenna replied. “She was in Duke Thorold’s employ.”
“And your father?”
“He was also in Duke Thorold’s household.” Brenna wondered what this had to do with anything. She had no intention of telling this woman her life story, duchess or not.
The silence stretched out until finally Avery sighed and turned to Kane. “Please tell Brenna that she can trust me.”
“I can’t, Duchess,” Kane said. “The men who were following us work for Thorold. He is the single most powerful man in Soule.” Kane shook his head when the duchess would have interrupted. “He’s more powerful than King Mattias. That makes him more powerful than you. Right now we can’t be sure you wouldn’t betray us in order to save yourself and Aruntun.”
“But surely the king will …”
“The king is being poisoned,” Brenna interrupted the duchess. “He doesn’t have much time to live.”
“How do you know this?” Neal turned sharp eyes on her and Brenna held his gaze.
“Because I’m healer born and trained. My mother was Duke Thorold’s healer.” Brenna smiled grimly. “I believe Duke Thorold forced her to devise the poison, but of course we have no proof.”
“What about your mother?” Neal asked.
“She’s dead,” Brenna said. “She was killed by Thorold shortly after she gave him the poison.”
“Surely there’s a way to give the king an antidote?” Avery asked.
“We tried.” Kane ran a hand wearily through his hair. “Brenna made one and we left it with my uncle to administer secretly. But he was caught. My Uncle Feiren is dead.”
Brenna felt a sob catch in her throat and she looked down. She felt Kane grasp her hand. She squeezed his hand and looked back up at Duchess Avery.
