by Jane Glatt
Neemah had paled slightly at Brenna’s words, but she nodded. “As I said before, I will follow you.”
“Thank you Neemah. It will not be an easy road. Now,” Brenna wrapped the coronet back in its old leather and put it back in her pack, “I must make a list of supplies to get from this healer you know. We’ll ask her for the names of any other healers as well. We should start an infirmary and maybe a school for training.”
Kane’s hand squeezed her shoulder briefly and then he was gone from the room. She followed him through old steel, needing to know that he was there, that he would be with her on this difficult journey. She hadn’t even declared herself queen, but Dasid’s taking of the ferry was the first battle in the war for the throne of Soule.
Kane studied Dasid’s face as he told Neemah the story of the Brotherhood. Brenna sat by his side and when she squeezed his hand he turned to smile at her. For once Ronan sat quiet and still by the foot of his mother’s chair, his young face turned up to Dasid’s as he spun the tale.
Dasid rubbed his hand over his bristled hair. It was just starting to grow back. He’d shaved it to disguise himself as a priest of the One-God when they’d rescued Neal Ravershaw from the High Bishop. Dasid’s had been the most dangerous role - he’d walked openly into the High Bishops most secret rooms. And despite the success of gaining control of the ferry Kane knew that had been dangerous as well. Dasid had lost a few men defending the ferry against the sizeable force Thorold had sent to try to retake it.
Kane studied at Neemah. When he’d first met her she hadn’t struck him as particularly strong but she’d grown in the time since Brenna had saved her from her old life. He glanced back at Dasid. He hoped Neemah knew what was in store for her, he thought, because there was no doubt about the way she looked at Dasid. Or the way he looked at her.
“So the four bloodlines, Brenna has them all?” Neemah asked when Dasid finished.
“Yes, Brenna has all four bloodlines,” Dasid said.
“Not legitimate, of course,” Brenna said. “And it’s all a little complicated. My grandmother is the sister of Duchess Avery and King Bodan is my grandfather’s father. Duke Ewart is a cousin - his aunt was my father’s mother. My father’s father is of course, Duke Thorold.”
Neemah’s gaze flicked from Brenna to her son before it settled on Dasid.
“And you follow Brenna even though she’s bastard born?”
“Yes. That’s not important to me,” Dasid said gently. “I’ve served with many men and what matters is his heart and mind, not the circumstances of his birth. And as for their mothers, well, there’s always a man involved at some point in time so to blame only the woman seems unfair.” Dasid looked down at Ronan and smiled. “And to blame the child is ridiculous.”
Brenna squeezed Kane’s hand and abruptly stood up.
“Well, I’m for bed.” She turned to him and winked. “Come along Kane. I’ll need to contact Yowan tomorrow night so I want to make sure I get my rest tonight.”
Kane took her hand and she pulled him to his feet. After some quick good nights they made their way up to their room.
She closed the door and walked over to stand in front of him.
“You’re not really tired, are you?” he drawled.
“Not really.” Brenna’s smile slowly widened and his breath caught when she reached over and unbuckled his knife belt. “I just thought it might be nice to leave them alone for a bit.”
“Hmm, you did?” Kane nuzzled her neck and pulled her to him.
“Yes. I also thought it wouldn’t hurt them to imagine exactly what we’re doing right now.”
Her voice was breathy and he could feel her heart beating against his chest.
“And what exactly is it we’re doing?” he asked.
“I was sure you were a man of imagination.”
“Oh I am,” he said as he unlaced her shirt and started to pull it over her head.
Brenna followed Neemah as she trudged through the cramped streets of Silverdale. She’d talk to Ewart about this, she thought as she looked around at the rough shacks and lean-tos huddled up against the buildings. It looked like every available space was occupied, and mostly by women and children.
“Is it always this crowded?” she asked Neemah. They edged around a cart that was being used as shelter - three small children huddled underneath it.
“No, this is new,” Neemah said. “It’s poor here but most folk have been able to find a roof afore this.”
Brenna frowned. The crowds were worse the closer they got to the poorest district.
“Excuse me.” Brenna stopped beside a tired-looking woman who held a baby. “Can you tell me where you came from?”
The woman turned frightened eyes to Brenna but she relaxed when she looked her over.
“I’m from Comack, near the ferry,” she said. “Though there’s lots here from closer to Kingsreach. Ain’t safe there ‘cause of the edict. My man, like most, has gone to join the militia.”
“How long have you been here?” Brenna asked, noting the dirty pot of water sitting beside the woman on the street.
“Four days. I can’t leave ‘cause then how would my man find me?”
Brenna reached into her purse and pulled out a crown. She handed it to the woman, who looked at her in surprise.
“Here. I’ll give you this if you promise you’ll buy food that can be shared with some of the others near you.”
The woman nodded and clutched the coin tightly in her hand.
“I’ll make sure that everyone gets something to eat by the end of the day. Everyone,” Brenna said solemnly, “I promise.”
She and Neemah continued down the alley but at the end of it Brenna turned to look back - the woman was talking to a few of her neighbours, holding out the coin, gesturing for more people to join her.
They traveled a few more streets before Neemah ducked through a small door set into a white painted wall. There was no sign that Brenna could see but the minute she walked into the darkened shop she knew they were in the right place. The scents of lavender, cinnamon, rose hips and pepper assaulted her nose and she sneezed.
“Who’s there?” asked a whispery voice. “Make yourself plain to me.”
“It’s me, Neemah Linney, Mother Lyran,” Neemah said, stepping into the center of the room. “And I’ve brought a friend.” Neemah gestured to her and Brenna stepped up beside her.
“Neemah, bless you girl, I thought you’d walked away from your calling forever.”
From the shadows, an old woman took two steps towards them. Brenna, her eyes adjusting to the gloom of the shop, saw the old woman’s nose point in their direction and twitch.
“Been doing well for yerself, Neemah. Neither one of you smell like ye’ve been living around here. Light a lamp girl, you know where it is.”
Neemah moved to the counter and soon a small lamp illuminated the shop. Rows of bottles lined wooden shelves and bunches of dried herbs hung from low rafters. Brenna looked more closely at the old woman, nodding to herself at the white film that covered the woman’s eyes. Mother Lyran had no need of the light herself - she’d been blind for many years.
Brenna stood still as the old woman reached a papery hand out to her.
“I feel like I should know you, lass. What’s your name?”
“Brenna Trewen, Mistress Lyran.”
“Call me mother. I’ve been no man’s mistress for more years than you’ve been alive.” Mother Lyran chuckled. “Trewen is it,” Mother Lyran asked sharply. “Are you a healer?”
Brenna nodded but then she realized the old woman couldn’t see her. “Yes. Taught by my mother, who was taught by her mother,” she said.
“Trewen. Well, that brings to mind an old story, one told about the Duchess of Aruntun’s family.”
Mother Lyran’s eyes settled on Brenna and she had the uncomfortable feeling that blind or not, the old woman saw much more than most folk.
“You heard of that tale Mistress Trewen?”
“I thought so.” Mother Lyran turned to Neemah. “Tell me Neemah, does your friend have two different colored eyes?”
“Yes Mother, one green and one brown, though she hides them somehow.”
“One green and one brown.” Mother Lyran turned back to Brenna, her wide smile showing her yellowed and cracked teeth. “That’s a good strong pairing, strong enough for the True One I expect. I’m glad you’ve come, I’ve been waiting a long time.”
Stunned, Brenna watched as Mother Lyran turned and calmly shuffled to the back of the shop. The last thing she’d expected to find in Silverdale was a woman who knew the legend of the True One, a story told only in the Duchess of Aruntun’s family.
“How do you know that tale?” she asked.
“I know many tales,” Mother Lyran replied. “I dreamed about the True One but I knew it to be a real dream. You are the heart of Soule, young Brenna Trewen, and it’s good that you have come. The people have need of you.”
Brenna shivered as the old woman spoke and she felt a vision begin. It was brief, no more than a quick flash, but enough to once more see Thieves Quarter engulfed in flames. She shivered again as the vision receded.
“But you know this already,” Mother Lyran said. “I will aid you in any way I can. Come, I have much to show you.”
Brenna walked slowly as she and Neemah made their way back to Duke Ewart’s house. It seemed that Mother Lyran had truly been waiting a long time. The woman had amassed an extraordinary amount of healing supplies along with soft cloths for bandages and compresses. When she’d shown them her collection of mortars and pestles, Brenna had almost wept. She could outfit over three dozen healers with such supplies. Mother Lyran had also offered to help teach healers and even now she was contacting those who had some skills. For the first time since she’d started thinking about training healers, Brenna had hope that it could be done before they went to war.
“Thank you for taking me to see Mother Lyran, Neemah,” Brenna said as they crossed the square to Ewart’s house. “She will be incredibly valuable.”
“She’s old and blind and don’t go out much anymore, but Mother Lyran, she still sees more than most.”
“Yes she does,” Brenna said as they entered the house. The old woman also seemed to know more than most.
Brenna left Neemah to deal with the various herbs they’d acquired from Mother Lyran while she set off in search of the men.
“There are over two thousand men already in town signed up and ready to be trained,” Kane said to Ewart and Dasid. They were in Ewart’s study, discussing the practicalities of training the recruits. “The men from the training facility should be here any day now.”
“They’ll be here before the coronation?” Ewart asked.
Kane nodded. Beldyn would be crowned in four days. Kane’s sword tingled and looked up as Brenna came into the room.
“Ewart, what food supplies do you have for the militia?” she asked, joining them at the desk.
“I believe we have more than enough for the existing force and the men we’ll be training,” Ewart said.
“And their families?”
Ewart looked up at her in surprise. “I wasn’t told that they’d brought families but of course they have. Kane?”
Kane shook his head. “The men are all camped just outside town.” He turned to Brenna. “I take it the families are in town?”
“Yes,” Brenna replied. “Neemah took me to visit a healer in the poorest part of Silverdale and the alleys and streets are filled with women and children. I talked to one woman who said her man had gone to join the militia - she’d been there on the street for four days. Some of them looked like they’d been there longer.”
Kane sucked in a breath and met Brenna’s worried gaze.
“We’ll need to get food and fresh water to them as soon as we can,” Dasid said and stood up. “And we need to dig privies. I’ll get Gaskain to organize some men. We have to get this under control as fast as we can.”
“Thank you Dasid,” Brenna said. “You’ll need to record the names of the women as well. They’ll be afraid to move in case their men can’t find them again. I suspect many of them desperately need their pay. And Ewart.” Brenna turned to the duke. “I’ll need somewhere where I can house the ill, a place we can turn into an infirmary. I was hoping we wouldn’t need this right away but if families have been out on the streets for days, or weeks even, there’s no telling what we’ll find.”
“I’ll have the men look for anyone who might be ill,” Dasid said grimly. “I saw a wasting sickness run through the camp followers of bandits once. The children were hardest hit.”
“I should have a few trained healers here soon - I’ll bring them to you,” Brenna said. “They’ll be able to determine who has to be cared for right away.”
“I’ll find a house or school,” Ewart said. “I’ll talk to the guilds. If there’s nowhere else we’ll use the church of the One-God. It’s almost empty and it’s very close.”
Both Ewart and Dasid left to start their tasks. Kane reached for Brenna and pulled her to him. “They’ll get it all arranged,” he said. “What else do you need?”
Brenna sighed. “A place to house my healers. Some can stay with the ill in an infirmary but they’ll need to be able to get away from that. I know that Ewart has some empty servant’s quarters but I don’t want them to feel they’re not appreciated.”
“I doubt that will happen,” Kane said. “They’ll be given a room in Duke Ewart’s own house and they’ll take their meals with the rest of us. Here,” he guided her over to a chair. “You rest while I make you some tea. I have a feeling that this is the only time you’ll be off your feet for the rest of the day.”
Kane re-filled Brenna’s mug and she sighed and tucked her feet up under her.
“When you go to find Dasid I’m going to talk to some Brothers,” Kane said. “Even when the men from the training facility get here it will be some time before they’ll be organized enough to start training the recruits. I thought we might keep them busy doing something else, something that would help us with the overcrowding in town and get them used to working together. It’s actually a good first step in their training.”
“Doing what?”
“If the Brotherhood can find some lumber I think the new recruits would put their backs into building homes for their families, don’t you?”
“That is a wonderful idea,” Brenna said. “Will it really help their training?”
“Yes,” Kane replied. “They’ll learn to work together as a unit and follow orders. It will also allow us to see who the natural leaders are.” Kane paused. “And they’ll know that that taking care of their families is important to the militia.”
“In case some of them die,” Brenna said and Kane nodded. Some of these men would not survive - that was the nature of war. She hated thinking about it but she had to be ready when it happened. And it would happen.
A few hours later Kane walked into a warehouse down by the river. The Brothers he’d met with had taken him to see Master Gwylym, a carpenter. An old man, Gwylym had outlived both his wife and his son. Now he worked alone in his shop – but he never sold or even showed any of the things he made to anyone. Gwylym had been excited by Kane’s visit however, and he was being given the rare privilege of seeing the inside of his shop.
When he stepped into the warehouse behind Gwylym the old man quickly slid the bar across the door.
“Don’t want t’others knowin’ what’s in here,” Gwylym said as he led the way through a dark passage.
Kane heard the sound of flint striking and then the cluttered workshop was illuminated by a lamp. He slowly let his breath out as he looked around the crowded room. On every surface and hanging from every hook, were tiny, wooden animals. Kane reached out and touched a horse, his hand running smoothl
y across the finely carved arched neck.
“These are extraordinary,” he said. There were hundreds of them and the quality of the work was incredible.
“I’m might fond of them,” Gwylym said. “Use t’ carve toys like this for my boy. Makes me feel closer to him when I’m workin’ on ‘em.”
Kane met Gwylym’s clear gaze and nodded. He understood how a man might want to remember when his life was good and his loved ones were alive.
“And what about wood? You said you had some we could buy?”
“Oh it’s not fer sale,” Gwylym picked up the lamp and opened a door at the end of the workshop. “But I’ll give it to the Caller, now she’s come. No doubt it will be useful. I’ve a good bit of it, seein’ as the carvin’ don’t use much. No, not much at all.”
Gwylym stepped through the door and Kane followed. The fragrant smell of wood filled the space.
“Sweet Anu,” he said quietly as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the warehouse. “Gwylym, how did you manage to accumulate so much wood?”
The warehouse ran most of a whole block and planks and boards were stacked fifteen feet high to the roof. The wood was organized by length, from what Kane could tell – one stack nearby looked almost thirty feet long.
“Oh, I like to find a good piece of wood at a good price.” Gwylym said. “Findin’ the wood was always a thing I liked to do so even after I stopped using so much I still kept my hand in the findin’ of it. Some of it’s more’n ten years old so it’s cured real nice.”
“So it is.” Kane gently reached out and clasped the old man’s shoulder. “Thank you. This is a fine gift you’re giving. Make sure you keep enough for your own needs now.”
“Aw, I think it’s time I stopped thinkin’ so much about the past and started helpin’ with the future. What’re ye plannin’ on doing with the wood?”
“We’re building homes. Homes for the families of the new army - Brenna Trewen’s army - the men who will help her become Queen.”
