by Jane Glatt
“There might be twelve men with the wagons, are you sure that’s enough?” Eryl asked.
“Dasid is choosing the men himself.” Kane nodded. “They’ll be some of the Kingsguards best-trained swordsmen and archers. They’ll be enough.” He sipped his ale and relaxed slightly. He had done all he could for tonight so he might as well simply enjoy the ale.
Kane was well into his second mug when he heard a noise from above. Eryl stood, startled. Kane quietly drew his knife and motioned for the thief to sit back down while he edged to the door. There were more muffled sounds from above and then the soft tread of feet on the stairs.
“Is there anyone else in the inn?” Kane whispered.
Eryl shook his head and Kane backed up against the wall beside the doorway. When the door edged open he reached out and grabbed hold of an arm and dragged the person into the room. Breathing hard, Kane kept hold of his struggling captive, his knife raised to their neck.
“Don’t fight me,” he said through gritted teeth.
Startled brown eyes turned towards him.
“Kane, let him go,” Eryl said. He crossed the room and stopped in front of Kane and his captive, his hand on Kane’s knife arm.
Kane lowered his knife and let go of the arm he held. To his surprise, Eryl made a quick bow.
“I can’t say we were expecting you,” Eryl said. “But you’re welcome all the same.”
Kane backed away as Eryl stepped between the two of them.
“Let me introduce you,” Eryl said. “Though I’m sure you’ve heard about each other.”
“Kane Rowse, consort to Brenna Trewen and member of the council of the Brotherhood of the Throne, meet His Majesty, Beldyn Embrey, King of Soule.”
Kane’s mouth dropped open for a moment - Beldyn seemed as surprised as he was and a lot more nervous. Kane slid his knife back into its scabbard.
“Beldyn, well met.” Kane held his hand out. “I apologize but I cannot call you Majesty.”
Beldyn hesitated, then reached out and gripped his hand.
“That’s a title I’ve never aspired to anyways.” The wry smile that crossed Beldyn’s lips surprised Kane. “I trust it’s a title another wants more than me?”
“Not at all,” Kane said. He laughed at the startled and worried look on the young man’s face. “But she feels she’s burdened with it.” He turned more serious. “It’s a role she’ll fulfill very well, for all that she doesn’t want it.”
“Good,” Beldyn said. “Someone needs to do it well. Not like my father.”
Again Kane was surprised, this time by the bitterness in Beldyn’s voice.
“He made me sign an order authorizing the Kingsguard to round up men and women from Thieves Quarter. They’re being sent as slaves to work the mines and as gifts to King Mannel of Langemore.” Beldyn ran a hand through his hair. “I thought Eryl should know. I was hoping he could do something about it. The One-God knows I’m not able to.”
“We already know,” Eryl said. “Kane and I are figuring out how to save them.”
“Brenna’s been working on things from where she is,” Kane said.
“Brenna? You’ve heard from her?”
The hope in Beldyn’s face reminded Kane that Brenna had been his only friend and ally while he was younger.
“Yes, I heard from her not much more than an hour ago. Come on,” he slid his knife back out of its scabbard. “Let’s see if she’s still awake.” Kane gripped his knife by the pommel and blade down, held it out to Beldyn. “I know you and Jemma were able to do this.” Beldyn’s hand hovered over the knife and then he rested it gently on top of Kane’s hand. “I’ll warn you, she was very tired when I talked to her so we might not be able to contact her.”
“Brenna,” Kane called as loudly as he could. “Are you awake?”
“Go away. It can’t be morning yet.”
“Brenna, wake up, I’ve got someone here who wants to talk to you.” Kane caught Beldyn’s eye and nodded.
“Brenna? It’s me, Beldyn.”
“Beldyn, what are you doing there. Kane?” Brenna’s voice was strong and clear - no doubt she’d grabbed her own knife
“He came to give Eryl some information,” Kane said. “I think he came by one of your favourite routes.”
“One of my … Beldyn, did you sneak into the Dog?”
“Through a window on the second floor,” Beldyn said. “I’ve come in that way before.”
“Well done,” Brenna said and Kane felt Beldyn’s pleasure from those two small words. “Not that any one I know has had a reason to sneak into the Dog, but it’s not easy to manage it. I saw Jemma just the other day. Should I tell her that I talked to you?”
“Please,” Beldyn said. “She’s safe?”
“Yes,” Brenna said. “She’s found her father.”
“Good,” Beldyn said. “I couldn’t let my father …”
Kane felt Beldyn’s shame and anger through the old steel link. “It’s not your fault,” he said.
“But he’s my father and he would have hurt her,” Beldyn said. “She’ll hate me for that.”
“No, she won’t,” Brenna said. “And you risked much to help her get to safety.”
“He would have hurt her,” Beldyn repeated. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if that had happened.”
“But now she’s safe,” Brenna said. “Are you? Safe I mean?
“For now,” Beldyn said. “Father can’t do much to me now that I’m king.”
“And do you like it?” Brenna’s question was hesitant. “Being king?”
“By the One-God no,” Beldyn replied. “It’s frustrating. As Regent, Father makes all the decisions. I can’t help anyone yet I have to attend every council session and listen to all the horrible plans he’s making. And I know that neither Fallad nor Aruntun support me. Did they pledge to you? Father won’t tell me.”
“Yes,” Brenna said. “They did.”
“Good. You’re the better choice,” Beldyn said with relief. “I’ll give up the crown whenever you want me to.”
“Thank you Beldyn,” Brenna said. “I’m not ready yet, but I hope to be soon.”
Brenna ended the contact and Kane accompanied Beldyn upstairs and the youth stepped over to the window.
“She doesn’t blame you,” Kane said quietly. “Jemma.”
Beldyn closed his eyes and nodded before he edged out the open window. Kane pulled it shut and headed for his own room.
Brenna woke early, despite her exhaustion. She’d been glad to speak to Beldyn last night and had slept well afterwards but now all she could think about were the people being sent to the mines or Langemore. She shoved the quilt off and got up.
It was early enough that only Cook was about in the kitchen. To keep busy, Brenna offered to help bake the bread. Her hands deep into the dough, she inhaled the yeasty smell and tried to concentrate on the task and not on the face of the little girl she’d seen in her Seeing.
“A bit more gently there,” Cook said. “That dough hasn’t done anything to you.”
Brenna stopped and flushed. She’d been pounding the dough so hard against the wooden table that the dough might be ruined.
“Sorry,” she mumbled and rolled the lump of dough into a ball and put it close to the hearth. She covered it with a cloth and tore off another batch of dough. This time she concentrated on kneading more gently, folding the dough in on itself with smooth motions. Soon she had half a dozen balls of dough rising beneath cloths. Gratefully, Brenna took the mug of tea Cook held out to her.
“Now, I know I’m a simple cook and you’re to be the Queen and all,” Cook said quietly. “But I know you well enough to understand that when you start beatin’ on the food, you’re right upset. If you want to talk, I’m willin’ to listen.”
Brenna smiled at the older woman and felt her shoulders relax. Maybe it would be good to get the opinion of someone who didn’t have the weight of the country always on their mind.
“I want to h
elp some people,” Brenna said. “Good people, who for the most part simply want to fend for themselves and their families. But because of me, these people are having bad things done them.”
“And are you doin’ these bad things to them?” Cook asked.
“No.”
“Can you change the things that are being done to them?”
“Yes. At least some of them,” Brenna said. Kane hadn’t figured out how to stop Thorold in Kingsreach but Dasid and his men would free the wagons before they got to Blackwall.
“But some of them you can’t help?” Cook spread flour on top of long handled wooden bread board.
“I think I can help them,” she looked up at Cook. “I think only I can help them.”
“Because of yer special talents.”
“Yes.”
To Brenna’s relief Cook just nodded and started to uncover the rounds of risen dough and place them on the flat of the bread board.
“Well, I’m just a cook,” Cook said. She pushed the bread board into the oven and deftly twisted the handle so the loaves slid off. “But it seems to me that if you want to help and you can, then you should.” With that, Cook headed off to start a pot to boil for morning porridge.
Could it be that simple? Brenna left the kitchen and wandered out to the stables. If she wanted to help and she could, then she should. She walked through the stable, past the lads who were busy mucking out the stalls. She lifted the latch on Blaze’s stall and grinned when the horse eyed her but didn’t move from the grain in the trough in front of her. As her horse confirmed, she wasn’t the most important thing in the world - she wasn’t even more important than breakfast.
And maybe that’s what it should be for a ruler, maybe she should come last, Brenna thought. Kane felt that she was too important to risk but maybe she was only important if she was willing to risk herself.
Thorold was ready to take everything from his subjects in order to satisfy his own ambitions. What if she did the exact opposite? What if she was willing to risk everything in order to help people? Blaze finally lifted her muzzle away from her feed and stepped towards Brenna, her head stretched out towards her for a scratch. Absently, Brenna complied, her fingers finding the spot behind Blaze’s ear that she loved to have scratched.
Between her visions, magic and healing she had talents that hadn’t been seen in generations - maybe ever. And as much as Brenna hated to admit, it she seemed to be the answer to two separate prophesies - one from the Brotherhood and one from the Kerrich family. The gods would expect her to act, wouldn’t they? They’d expect her to use the talents she’d been gifted with - why else would she have them?
Brenna spent a few more minutes petting Blaze before she unlatched the stall door and slipped out. Cook should have the porridge ready by now.
“Hey, watch out,” Brenna said as she almost tripped. She grabbed Ronan’s arm just as he was about to scuttle away from her. “What are you doing out here?”
“Nothin’,” the boy said. “Just comin’ to see the horses.”
“That’s all, is it?” Brenna smiled. “And you just happened to come see my horse while I was here?”
“Well, I did see you come into the stable,” Ronan said, head down. “And I figured if you was goin’ for a ride, then maybe I could go with you.”
“Oh.” Brenna dropped her hold on the boy, not sure if he would run anyway. “I didn’t know you could ride Ronan. I’ll keep that in mind.” She watched the boy’s face go from pleased to scared. This could be the closest he’d ever been to a horse. Just like her when she’d lived in Kingsreach, there was neither the need nor the opportunity to ride.
“I’m not going for a ride today,” she said. “I am going for breakfast though. Would you like to come?”
Ronan nodded and the two of them headed back to the kitchen. She should make time to give him riding lessons. She shook her head - just like she should find time to investigate the book about plants in the library. For someone who complained about how slow things were moving she ran out of her own time quickly enough.
nine
As promised, Dasid had twenty men ready to move out early the next day. Along with the twenty armed soldiers - all Brothers carrying old steel - there was a wagon that carried extra food and healing supplies. Kane had eventually agreed with Brenna that she should go. He wasn’t completely happy, but he understood her need to participate.
“But you’re to stay with the wagon at all times,” Kane said.
She’d contacted him through old steel in case he had new information to give to Dasid.
“I can take care of myself,” Brenna replied. “I know how to fight and I have magic.” She was riding Blaze no matter what he wanted. She was not going to be tied to the wagon when she could ride and scout as good as, or better, than anyone Dasid had selected for this mission. “I will contact Dasid through old steel if I get into trouble.”
“And if you stay with the wagon you’ll have less chance of getting into trouble.”
“Kane, you need to trust me,” Brenna said.
“Be careful. You’ll be in Comack. No doubt Thorold has offered a sizable reward for you. Alive or dead.”
“I’m always careful,” Brenna said. “But sometimes things have to be done regardless of any risk.”
“Yes, but you’re not the one who should be risked.”
“But what if I’m the only one who can do those things?” she said.
“Then you do what you have to and step back and let Dasid take over.”
When she ended their contact Kane still wasn’t happy, but he was resigned.
Neemah would ride in the wagon. It couldn’t travel as quickly as the mounted militia so one guard would stay and drive it. Brenna, riding Blaze, would stay close to the wagon and if there was any trouble she would immediately contact Dasid. Brenna would also relay information between Dasid, Kane in Kingsreach and Gaskain in Silverdale.
Brenna flexed her thighs and then relaxed them. A few weeks out of the saddle and it was as though she’d never been in one before. She looked at Neemah sitting comfortably on the bench of the wagon. Wils, a former Kingsguard, drove the team of horses along the rutted track. Brenna remembered Wils from the night she’d been rescued from Duke Thorold - he’d been in the secret passages of Duke Thorold’s estate with Kane.
It was almost a day since they’d left Silverdale behind them and already Dasid and his men were far ahead. The wagon moved so slowly that Brenna could get off Blaze and walk just as fast. That’s if her legs held her up. Now she regretted not exercising Blaze more - other than the one overnight ride with Kane she’d done very little riding since she got to Silverdale. She hoped her thief skills hadn’t deteriorated as badly - she was counting on them to allow her to do some scouting. At least she could practice her magic. She started going over all the spells she knew. She’d just repeated the spell that hid her pack when she felt Kane trying to contact her.
“Brenna,” she reached a hand to her knife his voice became clearer. “Brenna.”
“I’m here Kane. Dasid said he’s a day from the border with Comack we’re half a day or so behind him.”
“Another wagon train just moved out,” he said. “Three wagons and ten guards escorting about fifty men, women and children.”
So many! Brenna’s heart sank.
“They’ll have to move slowly with so many prisoners,” Kane continued. “Dasid should be able to catch up to them in a few days time.”
“I’ll let him know.”
As soon as she severed her connection to Kane, Brenna relayed the information to Dasid.
After another day of travel Brenna did get off her horse and walk. When the road changed into a rutted path they had to detour slightly from the route Dasid had taken.
Brenna and Wils poured over her map before finally deciding that if they went west and then south, they should come across a better maintained road. The only other option would be to abandon the wagon and have Neemah and Wils ride the
wagon horses. One look at Neemah’s face told Brenna that she had no more experience riding than her son did. They would stay with the wagon and search for a different route.
Dasid offered to send another guard back to the wagon - a better road meant more chance that they’d encounter Thorold’s militia - but Brenna convinced him that her magic could keep them safe. She could spell them all invisible if she needed to and another guard and horse would just make that harder. So they turned the wagon west the first chance they had and settled back into their plodding journey.
During the night of their third day of travel Brenna took the middle watch. She sat by the fire and listened to the forest sounds while the others slept. They hoped to find a road sometime in the morning - if not, they would have to turn back and admit defeat. They were firmly in Comack now and she knew that she could not risk being discovered by Thorold’s men.
Brenna checked the horses before stepping softly back towards the camp. She froze when she heard a noise - a rustling in the wagon. She crept closer and peered into the back of the wagon. There, some blankets moved.
Quietly, Brenna backed away, her hand reaching for her knife. She knelt down beside Wils and gently touched his shoulder. The change in his breathing told her he was awake before his eyes opened. With a single nod towards the wagon, Brenna rose and edged to the other side, carefully stepping around twigs and loose rocks. Wils, his feet bare and his sword in his hand, silently approached the wagon.
The rustling in the wagon had stopped by the time Brenna leaned back over it. She held her knife up as Wils reached into the wagon, grabbed the blanket and hauled it up.
“Hey,” came a shout from the bottom of the wagon.
Brenna pulled her knife back when she recognized the small face that peered up at her.
“Ronan, what are you doing here?” Brenna asked.
