The Girl from the North (Pathway of the Chosen Book 1)

by Cat Bruno

  He looked at her with eyes full of pity, angering Bronwen even more, and she lashed out at him with all the emotion that she had ignored for the last moon.

  “Tell me what you have done!” she screamed, pushing him until he slammed hard against the wall.

  Kennet continued to stare at Bronwen, stunned by her actions into silence and unable to answer. His back was burning, and his robe had been torn, scraped by the sharp stones. He could feel a gash down the center of his back, stinging and bleeding.

  He softly answered, “Bronwen, what has happened to you? What have you become?”

  Then, he turned slowly to reveal his back, the unbleached robe ripped, the edges trimmed in red where his blood had spread. While he could not see the damage that she had caused, he could feel the blood bubbling up around the scrapes before dripping down his back.

  While he wasn’t in much pain, Kennet was nearly crying himself, sickened by what Bronwen had done and who she was becoming. Healers learned early on the covenant of their profession, which was to do no harm. Kennet knew not what to say, and let the image of his bleeding back speak for him, knowing words would do little.

  When he thought that Bronwen had seen enough, he turned back to face her, trying hard to mask his emotions.

  As calmly as he could, he said to her, “Bronwen, I have reset the warding, and I do not intend to tell you what it is. Before you attack me again, let me explain,” he added, noticing the anger reddening her face.

  He went on, “Have you not heard the rumblings around campus? You have not heeded any of the warnings that I have given over the last moon, despite the danger you face. A special session of the Master Council has been called for the morning, and classes have been cancelled. Have you not heard any of this?”

  Bronwen took a step back, still reeling from what she had done to Kennet, unsure what had gotten into her. And now he was talking, and still she did not understand, his voice trailing off and making little sense as the beating noise in her head increased. She had spent all day in the clinic, and even then, she had avoided the other healers, not listening to what they might be discussing.

  Slowly, the echoes softened and the haze seemed to lift from her mind, and she softly whispered, eyes downcast and sullen, “Kenny, oh gods, I am sorry. Nothing makes sense anymore, but if I can find Conri, I will be able to straighten all of this out. You have to let me in there,” Bronwen pleaded, pointing in the direction of the hidden door.

  “Please, Kenny, I only need a few moments.”

  “Bronwen, do you not understand what I am telling you? The Council is meeting, to discuss why a member of the Tribe has been here at the Academy! Bronwen, think about what that means, especially for you. What if you had been caught in that room, or followed here? Do you know what would happen to you if anyone found out about Conri? What if they already know? Have you thought of that possibility?”

  She slowly answered, “I don’t understand. What exactly have you heard?”

  Kennet took a deep breath, letting Bronwen have a few moments to figure out what he had told her. He casually sent the mage-light to the other side of the wall, placing it very close to Bronwen’s head, and, for a moment, he was transfixed by the way the soft light haloed her flaming hair. Seeing her here with the light he sustained wrapping around her, Kennet feared what her future might hold, especially knowing all that he now knew. Had she never met Conri, Bronwen would have never arrived in Litusia, never attended the Academy, and would have never encountered him, a jarring thought, as he could little imagine his life without her. Yet, he could not stop himself from wishing that Conri, Lord Commander of the Wolf Tribe, had never spotted the dying girl upon the King’s Road so many moon years ago. Surely, someone else would have found her, taken her elsewhere, and all of their lives would now be different.

  When he looked up from his thoughts, Bronwen was pacing the small corridor, reminding him of an image from a book that he had translated some moons before of an Eastern animal, cat-like, but much larger, with skin reddened by the sun into a brilliant orange, dark stripes ringing its body as it stared out hungrily from a metal-barred cage. When he had first came upon the picture, Kennet had set his feather pen down, pausing to eye the strange, striking animal that seemed to watch him from behind the picture, its eyes full of hurt and mistrust, and, beneath it all, full of fury. He remembered looking away, unable to abide the intense look in the cat’s eyes, longing to be free of its cage. Kennet shook his head to clear the image, both of the cat and of the girl standing before him.

  “Bronwen, I do not believe that the Masters know who it was that set off the atraglacia. Questions are being asked, and, perhaps you did not hear me a moment ago, but a special council has been called to discuss what all this means. And it would not be wise if, right now, you continued this foolish search of yours.”

  “Why do I know none of this, Kenny?”

  “A few reasons, I’m sure, including your complete self-absorption of late, if I may be honest. And, really, very few outside of the Master Council have caught wind of what is being discussed. Remember me telling you about the conversation between Masters Rova and Ammon that I overheard? That is where this all started, I believe.”

  Bronwen sunk to the floor then, leaning her body onto the wall and dropping her head to her chest.

  After a few moments, she asked, “You said that Rova and Ammon were both talking about the breach, Kennet?”

  “Yes,” he answered, a little surprised by the calmness in her voice after all she had said and done the last hour, but nearly growing accustomed to her rapid mood changes.

  “You are certain that the meeting is about the Tribe?”

  Kennet glanced toward her and decided to sit down next to her. He lowered himself to the floor, gently, not wanting to cause his back to start bleeding anew.

  “There is no doubt as to what I heard. But, what truly stunned me was when I heard Master Rova ask Master Ammon about you.”

  Her face dropped, tears glistening on the edges of her fine lashes, the gold flecks in her eyes illuminated, and she gently shook her head from side to side.

  “Bronwen, don’t look so worried. I did not hear everything, but I think that Rova simply asked Ammon about you, about your work at the clinic. Master Rova seemed concerned for you, I think. But, I do believe there was more to his asking, that’s all.”

  She sighed, a heavy, throaty sound, and then continued, “So Master Ammon did not tell Rova about me? About my involvement with Conri? Did Ammon mention anything else, Kenny?”

  “From what I can recall, he just added that you had taken some time off from the clinic, and when you had returned, you were weaker than usual, but that you had still managed to handle your responsibilities there. No more than that did he offer about you, Bee. Is there more than that?”

  Whispering, she answered, “Oh gods, Kenny, there is so much more that I hardly know where to begin. Shall we go back to your office? I can tend to your back, and then I will finish telling you what I know. Gods, I am so sorry about hurting you. After you hear what I have to say, I can only hope that you will forgive me, Kenny. Forgive me and accept the path that I now walk, even if I do not know where it may lead.”

  Without answering, Kennet stood up, directing the mage-light until it lighted up the narrow stairwell, and then he followed as Bronwen began the climb that would lead them back to the library’s main floor. He kept his steps slow and even, unwilling to hurry, convinced that what Bronwen was soon to confess would be nothing that he wanted to hear.

  31

  Usually it fell to Louissia to wash all the plates from the evening meal, while Talia had to ensure that there were fresh linens ready for the morning service. However, tonight, Talia was in a chatty mood and helped her finish the washing, mooning over Pietro and wondering when he would return to Rexterra, and if he would take her with him. Louissia doubted greatly that Pietro would ever make an honest woman of her cousin, but she bit her tongue, grateful to have the help.
While they talked in the back kitchen, bits of noise filtered in from the bar area, although it was a slow night and her uncle had dismissed them after the washing was completed.

  As the two left the kitchen, Talia turned to Louissia and asked in her high, sweet voice, “Whatever happened between you and Kennet that afternoon on the beach, Louissia? You still haven’t told me the whole story! Pietro said that maybe Kennet tried to loosen your bodice strings,” she added, giggling.

  “Oh, Tally, why do you listen to him? I swear you have lost your head to that boy. Do you know what would happen if your father found out about the two of you?” Louissia asked, looking toward the door to make sure that her uncle was not listening.

  “He will not know until Pietro asks me to marry him, then he will be so pleased that his daughter has done so well for herself that he will forgive me for keeping Pietro a secret from him. But don’t try to trick me, cousin. You never answered me about Kennet. We are finished for the night. Why not go visit him?”

  Louissia smiled, rarely did she give her cousin credit for being more than just a pretty girl, but perhaps she was right. Over the last moon, she had been spending more time with him, and their past disagreements had been nearly forgotten. But, there was still much work to be done before Kennet would tell her all that she needed to know.

  “What shall I say to your father?”

  Talia giggled again, the sound twinkling and light, “Well, he can’t suspect much if we both go to visit Lucassa, right?”

  Louissia immediately understood what Talia was suggesting and knew that just like she was going to find Kennet, Talia would try to find Pietro, not her childhood friend who lived off the southern end of the Academy.

  “Come, Louissia, we must put on dry dresses and brush out our hair before leaving. Let’s use the back stairs so that poppa won’t see us.”

  Together, the two girls raced up the back stairs to the room they shared above the inn, laughter trailing behind them.

  *****

  Pietro lay on his bed and looked across his room to where a large chest sat, its golden edges sparkling in the candlelight. The chest had been a gift before he left his home to come to the Academy, and in it were many of his prized belongings, including a small shield bearing his family’s crest, a blue background with a sailing ship gliding on smooth waters at its center. Even with their royal blood, his ancestors had long served in the Rexterran Navy. From birth, Pietro was aboard ships, even sailing the Cordisian coast with his father, uncles, and brothers as a young child. Yet, before long, the waters held less interest for him, and he grew bored with sailing altogether, which displeased his father greatly. But as a middle son, his decision to forgo a life at sea caused only minor trouble, especially when his father learned that he would train for the King’s Guard instead.

  After spending his twelfth year with the other recruits among the King’s Guard, Pietro realized that the life of a warrior was not for him, especially the pain that he suffered after the mock battles that occupied half of his day. Yet, still the waters held no interest for him. One of the few options remaining for Pietro was the Healer’s Academy, where he would be trained before returning to Rexterra. He had shown early skill according to his tutors, and he was especially adept at memorizing all that his early teachers had to offer, so he was sent for further schooling.

  For several moons before he informed his father of his decision, Pietro studied everything that he could find about healing. He was well prepared to face his father, hoping to impress him with the knowledge that he had gained. In the end, his family lovingly sent him to Tretoria with their full support, including a generous allowance while he was there. His father was well pleased that he had chosen a calling that would not embarrass the family, and his brothers were satisfied that he would not challenge them for any control in the merchant business.

  At the age of fifteen, he had entered the Academy, older than most of the other students there, but more determined than most too. He would soon complete his eighth year, with only two more remaining before he would earn his healer’s robes, which would take him home to Rexterra and back to the comforts of royal living, to which he had longed for, particularly after his few visits back over the years.

  When he had heard that Bronwen had been named Master Apprentice, a position that he had wanted, Pietro’s plans seemed in doubt. Yet, he hadn’t completely abandoned the idea of returning to the King’s City as a true Master, even if it would take more moon years than he would have liked. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden tapping on his door, and he slowly rose from the hand-spun sheets that his mother had recently sent to him.

  When he opened the door, he was annoyed to find Talia smiling at him, looking pleased to have surprised him.

  “What are you doing here, Talia?”

  She giggled again, adding a sloppy curtsy before answering, “Good evening! Louissia and I have a few hours free, and she’s off to find Kennet, so I thought that I would see if you were busy. Aren’t you wondering how I found your place?”

  Pietro was curious as to how she had found him, but he did not want to admit that to Talia, especially once she mentioned her cousin’s name. He needed to keep the girls content until he had what he needed from Louissia. With that in mind, Pietro pasted a wide smile across his face.

  “I’m just happy that you’re here, my sweet seabird. Please, come in.”

  Talia bobbed behind him, a lightness to her step that seemed almost graceful, and Pietro admired her breasts as he turned to face her. She really was a pretty girl, with a full bosom and silky hair that curled down the back of her simple light-blue dress. Her eyes were large and dark rimmed, her lips plump and pink. And, Pietro supposed, he did have little left to finish for the day. While they waited for Louissia, Pietro had a few ideas for passing the time, and his smile grew larger, until he reached out to Talia, wrapped his arms around her waist, and spun her in a circle.

  Talia gasped at first, then started laughing.

  In her ear, Pietro whispered, “Oh how my heart flutters when I make my little seabird sing.”

  He circled again and again until they were both breathless and dizzy, collapsing onto the bed. Forgotten for the moment was the Mastership that he so desired, as well as his homeland. Even his hatred for Bronwen had vanished. His thoughts were elsewhere, as were his hands.

  32

  From the look that had been on Bronwen’s face, Kennet knew that she had not told him everything about her night with Master Ammon, and, at this point, he wasn’t certain that he could handle anything more. He was surprised enough that Ammon even knew Conri, and when Bronwen mentioned that she had asked him to locate the High Lord, Kennet knew that Bronwen would not stop until she had found him. She had also explained that Conri had never visited her nor Ammon on the grounds of the Academy, confusing him even further, which he hadn’t believed possible. After Bronwen left, Kennet decided that he would search for books detailing the history of the Academy’s founding. But, for now, he had to address the problems before him, one of which had just finished tending to his back, bandaging it and applying a salve she had with her that smelled of flowers and dirt and little else that he could easily identify.

  When she had finished, Kennet quickly glanced around his office, hoping to find something to put on, embarrassed to be standing in only a pair of loose-fitting trousers, his chest and back bare.

  Bronwen noticed his unease and laughed, “Oh, Kenny, don’t worry, I am used to seeing men in much less. The scrape on your back should heal cleanly, with not even a hint of a scar. Just remember to put the oils I mixed for you on it each night. Or I suppose you could ask your new friend to do it for you, if you like. What is your town girl like, anyway?”

  Kennet’s face grew bright red under Bronwen’s teasing, and he could not understand how she could be in such a joking mood now after how she had treated him only hours before, especially considering all that he had told her.

  Still stinging from her jab, Kenn
et huffed, “Bronwen, you have much larger things to worry about than Louissia. Have you thought about what you will say to Master Rova when you see him? And what about Master Ammon? Surely being with him won’t be easy anymore.”

  “Oh Kenny, let me have a moment to think of something else besides the mess that I find myself in right now! What I wouldn’t give to live a life such as your friend! So simple and easy. Perhaps when I meet Conri again, I will have him mind-lock me away, taking everything so I can start anew. What think you of that, Kenny? Would you take care of me if I were as blank as a baby at the moment of her birth? And you need not worry about Ammon, as he has been avoiding me as much as possible. As for Rova, well, he knows nothing yet, not really, so perhaps it is best just to continue my studies and work as if nothing has occurred.”

  “Bronwen, would you really do it? Would you truly let Conri mind-lock you and erase all memories of him?” Kennet asked, a desperation in his hushed voice as a new idea emerged.

  Bronwen paced the floor, her man’s clothing oddly attractive on her as the smooth shirt swayed as she walked, and the soft leggings hugged her long legs, distracting Kennet from his own near nakedness. He hurriedly looked down as she turned to face him, a strange look on her pale face.

  “What other options do I have? If anyone were to find out what I know and how I came to be here, and that I have known for several moons, I don’t think I would be welcome here anymore. I still have not completed my final testing to earn my robes, Kennet, so I couldn’t even just leave here to find work. And, what about all I have sacrificed to get to where I am? Has there ever been a Northern Master?”

  Drawing a breath, she continued, “But, you have seen me lately. I am off sorts, and nothing like I once had been. Was I not better off moons ago when I knew nothing of Conri? Perhaps that is where the answers lie.”

  Kennet could hardly believe what he was hearing. Over the last moon, she had been so adamant about finding the Wolf Lord, and now, finally, she was returning to her more reasonable self and admitting how much difficulty Conri had brought to her life. Before he could change his mind, Kennet walked over to his desk and stood behind his tall chair, pausing for one moment before reaching into the bottom drawer near the stone floor. Bronwen stood silently, lost in her thoughts, unaware of what he was doing until he slammed the drawer closed, drawing her attention to where he waited with his head hung low and his eyes shut softly.