Queen (Brotherhood of the Throne) (15 page)

“
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 help 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.

Wils grunted and she heard the hiss
of his sword as he slid it back into its sheath.

Neemah came over, her blanket
wrapped tight around her.

“Ronan, I told you to stay with
Mistress Ventris!” Neemah glared down at her son. There was a piece of dried
meat in the boy’s hand and he kept his gaze turned away from his mother.

“Oh, what am I to do with you,”
Neemah said. “Come here, let’s get a look.”

Ronan scrambled to his feet and hurried
over to her. She peered into his eyes and sighed.

“I expect you’re hungry. And you
best have a long drink of water so’s you don’t  dry up and blow away.” Neemah
turned to Brenna. “I’m really sorry. I had no idea he’d do anything so
foolish.”

“It’s a problem,” Brenna said,
looking at Ronan. “We’re not prepared to look after a child.”

“I’m not a child,” Ronan said. “I
can stand watch just as well as a guard can.”

“I’m not sure. Wils?” Brenna looked
across the camp to where the guard was building the fire back up. “What’s the
most important thing a guard must be able to do?” She quickly sent him a
message through old steel and he ducked his head to hide a smile before he
stood up, a stern look on his face.

“Follow orders, Caller,” Wils
looked from her to Ronan. “A guard understands that not following orders can put
him, his superiors and the entire mission in danger.”

“Thank you Wils.” Brenna turned
back to Ronan, who was looking from her to Wils, his eyes wide with fear. “And
have you followed orders Ronan?”

“No,” Ronan’s voice was soft and
Brenna thought she could detect the beginnings of a sob.

“And will you follow orders from
now on?”

“Yes, I promise I will. I’ll be
good, I will.”

“All right,” Brenna said. “For now
you need to do as your mother says. Drink some water, eat some food and then
get some sleep. We’ll be up and traveling early.”

Brenna watched the boy follow
Neemah to the water bucket before she turned her back and drew her knife. She’d
forgotten about contacting Gaskain. If she’d thought to talk to him he might
have been able to let her know that Ronan was missing. Brenna settled down,
hand on her knife and prepared to let both Gaskain and Dasid know what had
happened.

Guild Master Brunger walked into
the room and sat down heavily across from Kane. Eryl followed with a pitcher of
ale and three mugs that he set down on the table before he closed the door.
Kane looked around uneasily.

“We should find another place to
meet,” Kane said. “There are fewer folk in Thieves Quarter every day and all
this activity around the Dog must have been noticed by now.” Kane had scarcely
been outside the tavern in the last few days but whenever he looked out the
windows, the streets were deserted.

“Thieves Quarter will take care of
its own,” Eryl assured him. “Besides, I’ve used the Dog for business for years.
If I suddenly started going somewhere else it would raise even more suspicions.
Marcus, tell us what news you have from our royal friend.”

Kane frowned. Eryl knew this part
of town and he knew the people but those who were left, the ones who couldn’t
flee Kingsreach, must be feeling afraid. Still, by all reports Eryl’s network was
holding together and, Kane reasoned as he listened to Marcus’ reports on the
doings of the king’s council, he would only be here another few days. He planned
to follow the next group of prisoners and eventually meet up with Dasid. And
Brenna.

“Beldyn told Carolie that there had
been no response from Langemore,” Marcus said. “Beldyn seemed to think Thorold was trying to conceal how angry he was.”

“Does he have a good read on his
father’s emotions?” Eryl asked.

“I’d trust his instincts on this,”
Kane said. “Brenna would know and Beldyn’s been studying his father for more
years than she did. It’s good to confirm that Langemore has not yet fully committed
to Thorold.”

“It could just be weather,” Eryl
said. “It will be winter in the north soon.”

“But the wagons with slaves are
still getting through. At least to Godswall. Marcus?” Kane looked at the Guild
Master. “Would the routes to Langemore be open still?”

Marcus sipped his ale before
replying. “It’s early for the trade routes to be completely impassable and a
message carrier travels more lightly than a loaded wagon. It’s possible but not
likely that a message was delayed due to weather. A wool trader arrived in town
a week ago - I’ll ask him how the travel was.”

“If it’s not the weather it may be
that King Mannel is not as deeply committed to Thorold as we feared,” Kane
said. “What would Mannel want?”

“He’s a daughter he wants married,”
Marcus said.

“It’s his only child - she might have
a good deal of influence.” Kane looked across the table at Marcus. “We still
think Beldyn’s been pledged to her?”

“He won’t talk to Carolie about it
but that is the rumor among the nobles.” Marcus shrugged. “When she asked him
directly he got angry and avoided her for two days.”

“If Mannel marries his daughter off
to Beldyn,” Eryl said. “Do we think he receives a section of Fallad in return?”

“Probably. But he’d need to pledge
more than just his daughter to Thorold, I’d think,” Marcus said. “And it’s
something Thorold desperately needs - why else would he be so angry?”

“We’ll assume Thorold has promised
something from Fallad to King Mannel,” Kane said. “Do we think he knows that
Fallad is not under Thorold’s control?”

“I doubt word has spread that far
yet,” Marcus said. “I agree that there must be more to their agreement.”

“But what?” Eryl asked.

Kane looked steadily from Eryl to
Marcus. “I think it’s an army,” he said. “We have no evidence that Thorold is
building one of his own and he’ll need one if he ever wants to take Fallad.”

“And Aruntun,” Marcus added.

Kane shook his head. “He’ll never
take Aruntun, even with an army, unless it’s an army of witches.” Kane recalled
the woman who had taught Brenna magic, the tiny Mistress Utley. She’d had real
power even though she’d seemed physically frail. Brenna hadn’t been her first
student, nor likely her last. “No, Thorold decided long ago that Aruntun is no
use to him. Why else would he have let the church stir up so much hatred
against Aruntian witches?”

“Since it seems that Langemore has
not yet aligned with Thorold,” Marcus said. “Might I suggest that we have an
opportunity to strike an agreement of our own with the King of Langemore?”

“Ewart might know what Mannel
wants,” Kane said. His friend had mentioned that King Mannel had wanted Ewart
to marry his daughter. “And short of giving the man much of Fallad, as Thorold no doubt promised, Ewart may be able to give him enough of what he wants to at
least keep him neutral.”