by Jane Glatt
Brenna ran a hand along the wooden door - the leather straps used as hinges were dry and cracked. She dug into her pack and pulled out a salve used for burns and worked a scoop of it into the leather. When she tested the door it swung open silently. Brenna sniffed the air - she thought she detected the slight scent of old sweat and straw to her left so she moved silently in that direction.
She heard them before she saw them. Boots tramped the stone floor - more than one set of feet. With a whisper, Brenna strengthened the invisibility spell and shrank back against the wall. She held her breath when the guards came into view. They crossed the corridor without glancing her way.
“It’s a waste of sleep, if ye ask me,” one guard said as they walked beyond her view.
She crept along the wall until she could peer after them.
“Nobody asked ye,” the second guard growled. “And ye don’t want the duke hearin’ such winin’ either. If he wants double shifts on her, even in the middle watch, that’s his business. Jes’ go where ye’re told and do what ye’re told if ye don’t want trouble.”
The two stopped at a door and Brenna heard a mumbled exchange. Soon the two guards were let beyond the door and two others came out. She dropped to the ground and lay flat against the wall and they strode right past her. One unlocked a door at the far end of the corridor – she heard them relock it once they were through.
After a few minutes Brenna stole over to the door the first two guards had disappeared behind. Her hands splayed out across the rough wood. Avery was behind this door. She remembered enough from her own time in Duke Thorold’s basement to know that there was a small chamber behind this door, just in front of the cell where she’d been kept - the same cell where Avery was now. She studied the lock and smiled. She knew just what to bring when she and Kane came back the next night.
Kane let his breath out in one big swoosh. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it until he saw Brenna enter the small room. She smiled at him.
“You found her,” Kane said.
“First entrance I tried.” Brenna pulled out a chair, sat down and shrugged her pack off her back. “It led me right to the lower level. I saw the guards change, pairs at all times, I heard one say.”
Kane poured her a mug of ale, ale they’d brought in themselves not the sour stuff the Crooked Dog served, and passed it to her. He was still anxious but she was here now and he’d be with her tomorrow the whole way, he reminded himself.
Brenna sipped her ale and smiled in pleasure.
“Two guards. What else?” he took a drink of his own ale - it was warm from sitting too long so he topped it up from the pitcher.
“A locked door before we get to the guards,” Brenna said. “Then the door to the cell. That one is simply barred from the outside.”
“Can you get through the lock?” he asked.
She grinned and he nodded. He could manage two guards.
“Good. The others and I spent the evening with Eryl, sifting through all the information he’s found out about the church and the High Bishop.” He pulled out a rough sketch that one of Eryls’ gang had made. “Here’s what we thought would work best.” Kane bent over the sketch and outlined the plan to Brenna. When he saw her eyes started to droop he set the sketch aside.
“Come on, we’ve done all we can tonight.” He stood up and held out his hand.
“I should try to contact Laurel,” Brenna mumbled. She grasped Kane’s hand and he drew her to her feet.
“That can wait until tomorrow. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.” Kane blew out the lamp and led Brenna through the door and up the stairs to their room.
twenty-two
Brenna looked around at the solemn faces. Dasid, his curls shaved off and his sword and knife hidden in the long brown robes of a priest, would leave first with Gaskain. Their task was to mingle with the worshipers of the One-God inside the church. Dasid would signal Brenna when they were in place.
Yowan and Madelay, dressed as townsfolk, would try to attach themselves to a group of witch hunters. Eryl had assured them that all such groups ended up at the church. Madelay carried the mortar and pestle hidden in a purse at her waist, along with some healing herbs for Neal. Brenna could not possibly lose track of her grandmother since she knew where the mortar and pestle were at all times.
Invisible, she and Kane would leave last.
Brenna looked over at Kane and smiled. The former captain of the Kingsguard was dressed head to toe in black - his sword and two knives glinting ominously in the candlelight. He looked the part of a dangerous denizen of Thieves Quarter.
“Dasid, Gaskain, are you ready?” she asked. They nodded. “May the gods protect you.”
Both men rose and slipped out of the room. Brenna tracked their progress through their swords, taking note of pockets of other old steel that were scattered around town. Brothers taking part in tonight’s rescues. Some would be heading here to help Eryl’s gang protect their horses and escape route.
An hour after Gaskain and Dasid had slipped out of the Dog, Yowan and Madelay left. Brenna tracked the progress of the mortar and pestle and Yowan’s sword as they snaked a path through the streets. It didn’t take long before their casual wanderings found direction and speed. After a brief stop the path headed more directly towards the church of the One-God.
Brenna let out a breath.
“Dasid?” Kane asked.
She shook her head. “Madelay and Yowan are headed for the church.” She closed her eyes and found Dasid. “Dasid is there already, but he’s not … Ah, there’s his signal. They’re inside and ready.”
Brenna stood up and reached for Kane’s hand. He pulled her into his arms and planted a quick kiss on her lips before he stepped back, clasping her right hand with his left. Brenna whispered the invisibility spell, trying to channel as much power into it as she could. Immediately her view of the room was muted and though she felt Kane’s hand still in her hers, warm and solid, she couldn’t see him.
“That’s done,” she whispered. “Let’s go. All contact is through old steel now.”
Brenna led them through the streets of Thieves Quarter keeping to the shadows and as far away from the few people on the streets. She squeezed Kane’s hand when his boot scuffed against a loose cobble and they paused. She’d worn her own soft-soled slippers but Kane had argued that he’d need his boots to fight in. He’d promised to be as quiet as possible but it meant travelling more slowly. They had to be at the church before midnight services started - that was when the High Bishop would be out of the room where he carried out his salvations.
Brenna and Kane passed from the Quarter into the more prosperous streets near the market gate – close to where Brenna had entered the city a few days earlier. She checked the positions of the others through old steel and squeezed Kane’s hand to signal that all was as planned. A few streets later they were outside of the church of the One-God. The stone building towered over its neighbours and people milled about the open square in front even at this hour.
Kane pulled her back against a wall as she searched the crowd. There - Yowan and Madelay stood at the back of a small group. A priest stood in front of them but he was too far away for Brenna to hear what he said. No doubt he spoke against the hated witches and blasphemers who followed the old gods. Brenna sighed sadly. The old gods had been part of this land far longer than the One-God and if not for their teachings of tolerance and respect the church of the One-God would never have been allowed to flourish.
“Dasid, are you in place?” Brenna gripped Kane’s hand tighter, hoping he could follow this exchange.
“We’re here,” was the reply. “Waiting for Madelay and Yowan.”
“They’re in front of the church right now,” Kane said. “Wait, they’re moving inside.”
A few moments later Dasid confirmed that Madelay and Yowan had joined them at the back of the church. Kane squeezed her hand - it was time. Her heart pounded as she slowly made her way towards the large wooden
doors of the church.
Built over three hundred years ago, the church of the One-God was one of the largest buildings in Kingsreach. In the middle of the most prosperous neighborhood, Brenna had passed by it often. Duke Thorold’s estate was only a short distance from the church so they had very little distance to travel once they’d saved Neal - but it also meant that any warning the High Bishop sent to Duke Thorold could be delivered quickly. They wanted to get the Duchess and be away from Thorold’s estate before the High Bishop had a chance to sound an alarm.
Brenna stepped softly up the stone steps - Kane’s boots making only slightly more noise as he followed her. She squeezed through the double doors, Kane behind her. Dasid and the others sat in a pew at the rear of the church, away from the light of the many candles. She looked up at the dais, a little in awe of the majesty of the high ceilings and the fine wood carvings in spite of herself.
She’d never been inside the church before – she had a little better understanding of the power the church wielded. The opulence and grandeur of the church would seem overwhelming, and the promise of a better life after death would be compelling for those who spent their days eking out a living. But Brenna preferred the ways of the old gods and finding your own path to salvation - she’d much rather her fate was in her own hands than in another’s, even a god’s.
Brenna signaled through the mortar and pestle. She heard a cough – when she turned to look, Madelay stood and eased out of the pew, a hand over her mouth as she coughed again. Yowan followed close behind as she stepped into the shadows along the wall. Brenna tugged Kane over to them.
Brenna spelled the other two invisible and then led them all towards the west wall of the church. The door that was inset along the wall was, according to the drawing Eryl’s contact had supplied, where the High Bishop would enter the church for midnight services. Brenna stopped the group a few paces from the door. Her heart beat faster and her hand was slick where she gripped Kane. Finally the door opened and a priest came out carrying a single thick white candle. One hand protected a small flame that fluttered as he walked. As the priest moved towards the dais, Dasid rose and headed their way.
All eyes were on the priest as he stepped up onto the dais and started lighting the many candles that ringed the small space. Once he was finished he headed back towards the door. Brenna let go of Kane’s hand and followed the priest through the door. Dasid was on her heels - she could smell the alegria as Dasid raised the soaked cloth to the priest’s mouth and nose. She spelled the unconscious priest invisible and dragged him back out the door. She felt Kane take over and soon the man was somewhere on the floor of the pew where Gaskain still sat. Gaskain cautiously nudged the priest completely under the seat with his feet.
Brenna backed out of the door and into Kane. They didn’t have long to wait. In a few moments the High Bishop strode through the door. A hush fell over the church and worshipers leaned forward to get a better glimpse of him as he walked slowly to the dais.
His rich robes shimmered in the candlelight and Brenna frowned as she tallied up the wealth the man was wearing - silk robes of the highest quality - the thread edging them had to be at least silver, if not gold - a thick gold ring with a stone that would feed a family for a year. Even his slippers, barely visible as he headed up the few steps, were encrusted with jewels. Her earlier awe of the church was replaced with distaste for the High Bishop. Thieves Quarter would go hungry this winter but she doubted the High Bishop would even notice – not unless one of his worshipers died of starvation at his jewel-encased feet.
Her knife tingled and she looked up - Dasid stood by the open door. She collected Kane, Madelay and Yowan as she made her way towards the door. Once Dasid had followed them through, he closed the door firmly and slid the wooden bar across it. Brenna touched his arm and he nodded. Dasid would lead the way to the lower levels and Neal Ravershaw.
The stairs ended in a hallway with multiple doors leading off it. Dasid opened a richly carved door just as a young priest exited from another door.
“Can I help you?” the young man asked. “I’ve not seen you here before, have I?”
“Just in from Fallad,” Dasid bowed to him. “The Western Forest.”
“A pilgrimage.” The other man smiled and nodded. “I regret to tell you that you are not allowed in here.”
“But the High Bishop said I could roam around if I wished since it’s unlikely I’ll be back for a great many years.” Dasid edged closer to the priest while he spoke.
The young man frowned and Dasid held a cloth over his face. The priest was invisible by the time he dropped to the floor unconscious and Brenna pushed him against the wall to keep the hall clear. It wouldn’t do to have anyone, including their own party, tripping over an invisible priest.
Another set of stairs down and Brenna could smell it - the scent of blood and urine and sweat and pain. She touched Dasid’s robe and he nodded and dropped back. She heard the soft hissing as Kane and Yowan drew their swords and she grasped Madelay’s hand firmly.
Brenna had tried to tell Madelay what to expect. Neal was alive, yes, but how intact was he? She shivered as she remembered how Feiren’s fingers had been cut off. She straightened her back. If it were Kane she would want him back, no matter what. The wooden door in front of her opened and after waiting for Kane and Feiren to go first, Brenna led Madelay through.
She tugged her grandmother toward the wall, away from the center of the room. Two guards and an old priest were spinning and twisting as they fought unseen foes. She heard a grunt of pain and saw one of the guards go down, his throat sliced open and blood pouring onto the floor. She reached for Kane’s sword and almost stumbled when its song of blood and triumph surged through her. Brenna quickly clamped down on the feeling and turned away from the fight to focus on the table.
She remembered this room. She’d seen it through Feiren’s eyes as he’d lain on the table - the same table that held Neal Ravershaw. Brenna dropped Madelay’s hand and reached for Neal’s neck. There was a pulse, faint, but it was there. They needed to work fast.
“Madelay, we need the potion, now.” Brenna felt the pack pushed into her hands and she grabbed it. She rummaged through it until her fingers recognized the bottle she wanted. She pulled it out and quickly uncorked it. Lifting it to Neal’s lips she tilted his head a little to help the medicine go down properly. The whole time she whispered hopeful spells to encourage both the potion and Neal to work to heal the damage.
And the damage was extensive. Neal’s face was a mass of fine cuts that crisscrossed each other. One ear was missing a lobe and both his thumbs were gone. He was covered with a light sheet and when Brenna tried to lift it, Neal groaned. She looked closer and swore - they’d allowed the fabric to dry into his wounds and then ripped it off, re-opening the hundreds of tiny cuts. There was no time to soak the sheet off him so she wrapped him tighter.
Madelay had taken the small bag back and Brenna heard the sounds of packets rustling and the scents of dried medicines wafted towards her. She felt the mortar and pestle being used and recited more spells to aid healing, hoping the magic of the old steel would impart extra strength to Neal.
The room was quiet. Brenna looked up from Neal - two guards and the priest lay in an expanding pool of blood but she couldn’t feel any sorrow at the deaths of men who had stood aside while another man was endlessly tortured. She was relieved to see Neal open his eyes.
“Neal, it’s me, Brenna,” she said when she saw him start to struggle. “We’ve come to get you out.” She felt someone come over to her – Kane - she knew when he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll untie him,” Kane’s voice was quiet but she could hear the sorrow in it. She reached up and squeezed his hand where it lay on her shoulder. No doubt he was imagining his uncle atop this table.
“Is that Rowse?” Neal’s voice was weak but as soon as his bonds were loosened he struggled to sit up.
“Aye, and Yowan,” Yowan said from close by.
“And you’ve got the two best healers in Soule looking out for you, Ravershaw, so don’t give them trouble.”
“Two?”
“That’s right - Brenna and Madelay Kerrich, though I don’t expect you remember her much.”
“Shhh,” Brenna said. “We’re still not out yet.” She sent a quick message to Dasid. “I’ve let Dasid know we have him. Neal, can you walk? Just two sets of stairs up and then we’ll have more help for you.”
“I can walk,” Neal said, his voice a croak.
Someone, Yowan maybe, lifted something to Neal’s lips and he drank.
“Brought a skin of water along, just in case,’” Yowan said as Neal licked his lips and relaxed again.
“I’m going to spell him, so someone needs to hang on to him at all times,” Brenna said. It would do no good if they lost him while he was invisible.
“I will,” Madelay said from beside her.
Brenna nodded and uttered the invisibility spell. Neal disappeared from view but she heard him grunt as he was helped to his feet.
They did not cross paths with anyone else until they met up with Dasid. He stepped out the door and into the church to return a few moments later with Gaskain in tow.
“The High Bishop looks ready to give his blessing,” Dasid whispered. “Be careful not to bump into folk as they head towards the dais.”
“All contact is through me now,” Brenna said. “Let’s go.”
The others would head back to the Dog, where Madelay could better care for Neal. She and Kane were going to Duke Thorold’s estate to recover Duchess Avery.
Once had Brenna spelled Dasid and Gaskain invisible, she heard a grunt as Gaskain hefted Neal onto his shoulder. They would watch each other for signs of the spell wearing off in case the spell faded before they reached the Crooked Dog.
Madelay hugged her goodbye and then only she and Kane were left, huddled against the back wall of the church. She looked up at the High Bishop - he smiled as the worshippers filed past him, hoping for any bit of good luck and good will he might bestow on them. Not from him, she thought angrily, they’d get nothing from the High Bishop despite what the One-God may teach - and he’d take much more from them than they could afford to give.
