Thief

by Jane Glatt

where misplaced trust could mean death. She neither gave it nor received it easily.

  “Right now,” Kane said. “We can’t trust any Brother from Fallad. We don’t know how deep the betrayal is.”

  “Why didn’t Stobert just kill me on the road?” Brenna asked. “Why did he bring us safely to Silverdale and then split us up?”

  “Maybe he needed the time to make plans with Thorold,” Kane said. “And he didn’t want me around when they took you. He knows I’ll fight to the death.” Kane’s smile chilled her. “A man with nothing left to lose is an unpredictable and deadly opponent.”

  Brenna took off her pack and leaned against it. Kane was willing to die for her. She stared at his profile, knowing that in the dark he couldn’t see her face. Never before had someone had so much faith in her - and she wasn’t what he thought she was. She wasn’t the heir to the prophecy. Right now she wished she was, wished she was worthy of his loyalty, worthy of his trust.

  She was tired. It was close to midnight and they’d been on the run for most of the evening. She dug into her pack for her water skin and took a sip before she handed it to Kane. As he drank, she reached for old steel.

  “I think we’re not much more than a mile from the horses,” she said. “It looks like there’s only one guard. At least only one guard bearing old steel.” She had to get out of the habit of assuming all Brothers wore old steel. It wasn’t true and it could get them killed.

  Kane put a hand on Brenna’s arm and motioned for her to stop. The stable was quiet. Light spilled out of the open door and a single guard stood out front. He needed to draw out any others.

  Kane straightened up and stepped into the light.

  “Meaker,” Kane said. “I’ve come for the horses.”

  “I heard you got away,” Meaker said. “You and the witch.”

  “You mean the Caller?” Kane asked. Meaker glanced down at his sword, his old steel sword. So the man had doubts.

  “She is the Caller,” Kane said. “I was there.”

  “But Lord Stobert says she’s not.”

  “How long has your family been in the Brotherhood?” Kane asked. “A thousand years? Two Thousand?”

  “Two,” Meaker mumbled. “Right from the start.”

  “And in those two thousand years do you think anyone ever came across someone who could do this with old steel?” Kane hoped Brenna was listening. He drew his sword. Good. His sword glowed brightly enough to illuminate the growing confusion on Meaker’s face.

  “Lord Stobert says she’s just a witch, like them from Aruntun.” Meaker lifted his chin. “How do I know they can’t magic old steel?”

  “Two thousand years and the Brotherhood have never come across anyone, including an Aruntian witch who could manipulate old steel,” Kane said. “If we had, we would have written it down.”

  Meaker snorted. “You got that right,” he said. “We write down what we ate for breakfast.”

  “Yes,” Kane agreed. “We do.” Kane held Meaker’s gaze until the other man looked away.

  “It never did feel right,” Meaker said. His shoulders slumped. “I seen what she can do with my own eyes. I won’t help you, but I won’t get in your way either.” Meaker stepped away from the door. “The packs are in the side room with the tackle. I think it best if I head out and see to my family.”

  It only took a few minutes for them to get the horses saddled and the packs sorted out. Within half an hour Kane led them northward, away from the city. He planned to keep off the main road as much as possible. Better if they could ford the river and keep it between them and the route any pursuers would take. Stobert might not follow them, but Barton would.

  “Do you think Stobert even spoke to Duke Ewart about meeting you?” Brenna asked. They’d stopped to refill their water skins and allow the horses to drink.

  “At this point, I doubt it,” Kane said. “I wouldn’t even count on Ewart being in the city.” He felt foolish. And he was furious. With Westley Stobert and his men, of course, but with himself as well. He should have tried harder to find out if Ewart was in Silverdale. Such a simple mistake, all because he’d assumed no Brother could refuse the Call.

  “Can we trust Duke Ewart?” Brenna asked.

  “Yes,” Kane said. “At least with the issues regarding the king’s council. I’m not sure he’d understand about the Brotherhood and the prophesy.”

  “Isn’t his estate on our way?” Brenna grunted as she heaved herself up onto Blaze.

  “Yes, it is,” Kane said. He mounted Runner. “It’s a couple of hours ride from here.”

  “And don’t you think he’d appreciate a visit from his old sparring partner?”

  Kane laughed for the first time all evening. It felt good.

  “I don’t think he’d forgive me if I didn’t stop by,” he said. “I spent a summer here when I was fourteen, I should be able to find it without using the road.”

  twenty

  Kane and Brenna sat outside the kitchen door to the ancestral estate of the Duke of Fallad. They’d come around the back to the kitchen - Brenna had assured him someone would be up despite it being an hour until dawn. The baker’s helper had opened the door when they knocked. The youth had stared at them bleary eyed and then had gone to get the housekeeper, who in turn had woken up the steward. Kane was sorry they had to disturb so many people, but Brenna assured him the chain of command in the household had to be followed.

  The steward had recognized Kane and had gone to rouse his master, but in his haste he’d left them outside the kitchen door.

  “Maybe we should have come later,” Kane said. He rubbed his temple. “We could have found someplace to rest.”

  “No,” Brenna said. “No one saw us arrive in the dark. We don’t want Thorold to know about this visit, remember?”

  “Right.” That was one of his reasons for asking Lord Stobert to arrange a meeting. He’d thought the man would keep it a secret from Duke Thorold. Turned out he’d kept secrets from Kane and Brenna instead.

  The back door opened and the steward poked his head out.

  “Begging your pardon, please come in,” the steward said. “His Lordship will be down directly. He asks that you wait in his study.”

  Brenna followed Kane and the steward through the kitchen and down a very long hallway. Brenna counted seven doors before they finally stopped. The steward opened a door and ushered them inside.

  A boy with tousled blond hair was lighting the many lamps in the large room. Through three tall windows she could just see the sun edging over the horizon. A massive wooden desk spanned the far end of the room, a chair pushed in behind it. In front of the large fireplace, a stuffed settee and two matching chairs faced each other, a small table in between. The boy, now finished with the lamps, bent down to start a fire.

  The steward indicated that they should sit, and Brenna and Kane sat side by side on the settee. Once the fire was lit the boy hurried from the room. He almost bumped into the housekeeper as she entered with a tray. She set the tray down on the table in front of the fire.

  “My Lord Duke will join you shortly,” the steward said. He followed the housekeeper out and closed the doors behind him.

  “This is peaceful,” Brenna said. Wearily, she ran a hand through her hair. She was exhausted. Now she had to impress Ewart Wortley, Duke of Fallad, her blood kin. Kane wasn’t even sure they could trust him.

  She leaned over the table and pulled the tray closer to her. Maybe she’d regain some energy if she ate.

  “Kane look,” she said. “There’s biscuits and heavy cream with blueberries.” She transferred a biscuit to one of the small plates and spooned first blueberries then thick cream on it. Carefully, she picked it up and took a bite.

  “This is wonderful,” she mumbled. Duke Ewart’s staff hadn’t skimped on their meal. This was probably what the Duke and his family would break their fast with. Kane poured tea into two delicate cups and handed her one. Her plate balanced on her knee, she took a sip.


  “So far I like this friend of yours very much,” she said.

  “I hope that doesn’t change now that we’re to meet.”

  Brenna spun towards the voice. A man in a trim white shirt and black breeches closed the door to the hallway and turned to them.

  Kane rose and strode over to the door.

  “Ewart,” Kane said. “It’s good to see you. I hope you don’t mind the early hour.” He slapped his friend’s shoulder.

  “Not at all,” Duke Ewart replied.

  Brenna winced when he punched Kane’s arm, but Kane barely seemed to notice.

  “It’s been what, two years since we’ve seen each other?” Ewart said. “I think I can miss a few hours of sleep after so long. Although I will not forgive you for the gray hairs your arrival has caused. I think I aged ten years when my butler said you were here. And at the kitchen door, at that.” Ewart smiled at Brenna and walked towards her, his hand outstretched. “And who is this?”

  Brenna stood up shook his hand. He had a good firm grip and she liked the way his blue eyes sparkled when he met her gaze. Other than her mother and Thorold, this was the first blood relative she’d ever met.

  “I’m Brenna,” she said.

  “Well met, Brenna. Kane.” The duke’s voice was rich with humor. “You seem to have better taste in traveling companions these days.”

  “I have no complaints,” Kane said. “Brenna, meet Ewart Wortley, Duke of Fallad. Ewart, meet Brenna Lightfingers.”

  “Trewen,” she interrupted. “Brenna