by Jane Glatt
A few minutes later Brenna backed him up against a watering trough. She let him edge to the right before she swung a booted foot out and knocked his lead leg out from under him. Kane went to one knee and she slapped his weapon from his hand and pushed him to the ground. He lay on his back, panting, as she held the wooden knife to his throat.
“I’m done,” he said. He grabbed the hand she held out and she helped him to his feet. He wiped a sleeve across his forehead and leaned over, still trying to catch his breath. He looked at Brenna - she wasn’t even breathing hard and the look in her eye had barely changed.
“Gaskain, your turn.” He tossed his practice knife to the guard, smiling at the look of trepidation that crossed the other man’s face. “And don’t go easy on her - it just makes her angry.” He took the bucket of water Dasid held out to him and took a big gulp before he dumped the rest over his head. “This should be good.” He grinned as he handed the bucket back to Dasid. “You’re after Gaskain if she stills needs it.”
Dasid looked at Brenna, then back at Kane before he smiled. “Just like a recruit with too much energy,” he said. “She’s very good.” He gestured to Brenna, who had Gaskain backing away from her.
“So my uncle always said.”
“Yes, but I thought he meant for a woman.” Dasid gave him a rueful smile. “Now I see he simply meant she was good.”
Kane sat down heavily on the step that led to the kitchen. He picked up his sword and buckled it back on.
“It’s a mistake to judge Brenna against anything other than the best.” He looked up and met Dasid’s serious gaze. “The best thief - the best tracker - the best with a knife - the best healer - no doubt the best with magic.” Kane sighed. He looked back at Brenna. She circled Gaskain as he tried to find a way past her quick defenses. “It’s one of the things that make it difficult to advise her,” he said. “She’s had so little experience with failure that she’s not as cautious as I’d like.” He met Dasid’s gaze again. “And some things are far too important for her to fail at.”
Thorold looked at the once-haughty Duchess of Aruntun and smiled, a slow pleased smile. The Duchess wasn’t looking quite so fine these days, he thought as he watched her from the open doorway. Fridrick’s idea to move her here had been a rather good one and he’d rewarded the scholar with the release of his niece’s son. Thorold had indentured the boy when Fridrick had angered him, but now the youngster had his freedom. No doubt he was on his way back to wherever he came from. No matter. If the lad was in Comack he could have him back here in a matter of days, if needed. For now he was content to let Fridrick enjoy a taste of reward.
“You are looking rather the worse for your accommodations, my dear,” Thorold said to the duchess. She squinted up at him, her eyes no doubt still blurry from the drugs she’d been given. Fridrick had ensured him that Duchess Avery was in no condition to see where she was. It had taken almost two days for the drugs to wear off enough that he could speak to her and know she understood his words. It had been a rather long wait for him, but really, it was better that the Duchess not know where she was. He still might need to produce her, alive and relatively unharmed, in order to get what he wanted. Thorold smiled again. And it was a reminder to himself that he still needed to be patient. He’d waited years for his plan to come this close to completion - a few days were nothing if it helped secure him the throne.
“Come now Duchess, you won’t get your captain back if you don’t act nice.”
“Where is he?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “Where is Neal?”
“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t quite understand what you were saying. You really should drink some water.” Thorold held a cup in his hand and she licked her lips. “You’ll need to come closer,” he said. “I’m not going to bring this lovely, cool water over to you.”
She started to drag herself across the bare floor of the cell and Thorold nodded in satisfaction at the pain he saw on her face. It would be so satisfying to simply hand her over to the High Bishop but she was too valuable as a bargaining chip. Even now, a message was on its way to her heir. Although why the woman had appointed her young granddaughter as her heir was beyond him. Especially since he knew she had a grandson who was older than the girl. Well, it worked in his favor. His message said he would free the duchess if the girl consented to marry Beldyn. He’d already promised Beldyn to Langemore but he was still fine bait for the Aruntian witches. He would never let the Duchess go, of course, but if he could lure the rest of her family here for a royal wedding he could eradicate the whole line all at once. A terrible accident, perhaps, or large-scale poisoning. As long as enough other people died it wouldn’t look like they were targeted.
With their ruling family gone the people of Aruntun would be happy to pledge their fealty to the crown. Once he had control over Aruntun, squeezing Fallad between Kingsreach and Langemore would be easy.
Avery was almost at the open door - the chain that attached her to the wall was taut and she couldn’t move any farther forward. Smiling, Thorold tipped the cup and let the water spill out onto the floor.
“How clumsy of me,” he said. “All that water spilled and not a drop where you can reach it.”
She glared at him and his smile widened. He stepped back and his guard closed the wooden door and slid the bar across it. Duchess Avery still had some fight left in her. He liked that. He could make her pay for every insult, every slight, every delay she’d caused him over the years. He hoped that breaking her would go slowly, so very slowly.
Twenty-one
Brenna gripped the mortar tightly - she could feel Madelay’s presence through the old steel. When they’d finally made contact with Laurel she’d been frantic – she’d been trying to communicate with her mother for two days. Brenna had described her vision - that she’d Seen that Avery was well but drugged, and Laurel had calmed down. The news that Neal had been seen alive a few days ago had given her even more hope.
“We’ll get them out soon,” Brenna said, using Madelay as a bridge between them. She could almost feel Laurel’s tears through the old steel. She rolled her shoulders - her muscles ached from her practice fights and she was tired, but she felt calm and focused.
“Try Avery again in a few hours, perhaps she’ll be awake then,” Brenna suggested. “We’ll contact you later.” Brenna let go of the mortar and stood up, rolling her shoulders again. She extended a hand down to Madelay to help her up.
“I don’t know why we need to sit on the floor for these sessions,” the older woman said. She grabbed Brenna’s hand and slowly got to her feet. “My joints stiffen up quickly these days.”
“Unless you want Yowan holding you up, we’ll be on the floor. The bruise on your forehead hasn’t completely faded.” Brenna wasn’t willing to chance Madelay becoming dizzy and falling off a chair again - she’d been terrified that she was seriously hurt or worse. After that Brenna had given her the option having Yowan hold her or sitting on the floor. Madelay had chosen the floor.
Brenna ignored Madelay’s glare as she touched the mortar. Kane and Dasid had wanted to be present when they contacted Laurel again. Brenna had asked Yowan to come and now Madelay sat on a bench with Yowan beside her, holding her tight. Her grandmother glared at her again before Brenna reached across to touch the old steel mortar.
“Laurel,” Brenna called. “It’s Brenna and Madelay.”
“I found her,” was the immediate response and Brenna relaxed in relief. She nodded to the others in the room.
“She’s been drugged and moved, as you said, but she’s alive,” Laurel continued. “And grateful to hear news of Neal. It’s given her strength.”
Brenna’s gaze settled on Kane for a moment. In the same circumstance knowing that Kane was alive would give her strength.
“Does she know where she is? Can she describe it?” Brenna waited while Laurel disappeared to talk to her mother. When she came back she described a small stone room with a solid wood door and an evening visit from Duke Th
orold. Brenna could feel the hatred in Laurel’s tone when she mentioned the duke. She knew that room - she knew that door.
“Laurel, ask Avery to look at the blocks along the back wall, just above her head when sitting.” The few moments stretched out for Brenna. Her heart hammered in her chest and she nervously brushed her fingers across the mortar. It had to be the same cell. Her vision had to be true.
“She said there seems to be a brown mark of some kind that looks like part of a letter,” came Laurel’s response.
“It’s the letter B,” Brenna said. “It’s from when I was in that same room not more than eight months ago. I know where she is.” Then both out loud and to Laurel, she said, “Avery has confirmed my visions. She’s being held in Duke Thorold’s estate. In the basement he has a jail of sorts. I was kept there when I was caught inside his house.”
“We’ll get her out Laurel, tell your mother we’ll get her out – as soon as we have Neal.” Avery would agree to save Neal first. If it was between her and Kane she’d want Kane saved before her - especially if she knew he was being tortured.
Kane followed Dasid around the corner and onto a slightly busier street. Busier for Kingsreach these days, anyways - at least there were a few merchants about. Most of the time - except for the ever more frequent groups of witch hunters - the streets of Kingsreach were deserted.
Kane wore his Master Arlott disguise and Dasid was dressed in the finely made suit and cloak of a noble. Arlott’s patron was finally being seen. Eryl had supplied the required clothing and some credibility - through Master Arlott, Eryl had had a long standing business relationship with Arlott’s patron. Dasid had laughed but he’d promised Eryl he would keep his hood up and his face hidden in order to preserve as much mystery as possible. Kane figured that Eryl had plans to use this mysterious patron after they were out of Kingsreach.
To protect against being targeted by witch hunters, both Kane and Dasid wore symbols of the One-God prominently on their cloaks.
Kane kept a pace behind Dasid as he entered a shop and headed directly towards a small wooden door at the back of the room. They passed two clerks and multiple tables laden with sumptuous silks and dainty lace. Once through the door and in the back room, Kane closed the door tight. He took off his hat and Dasid shoved his hood down.
“This is very dangerous,” Marcus Brunger said. He eyed their clothing. “So far I have done nothing to attract the attention of either the Kingsguard or the church but any unknown visitors could cause them to look more closely at me.”
“Not to worry,” Kane said. He sat in one of the chairs in front of Guild Master Brunger’s desk. “We are actually fairly well known in the Quarter.” Kane smiled. “At least I am as Arlott. My patron has not been seen before, but many have heard about him.” He looked around the room. “You must keep something in here for your best customers. Think about what that could be while Dasid looks for what we really came for.”
“We need access to the books and documents moved here from Feiren’s house,” Dasid said.
He walked behind the large desk and toed aside a small rug. He ducked down, pried up a loose board, and then lifted out a whole section of the floor. Dasid sat at the edge of the opening and turned to Marcus Brunger.
“Are the flint and candles in the same place?” he asked. The Guildmaster nodded and Dasid dropped down and disappeared from Kane’s view. A soft light glowed from below and then Dasid signaled. Kane placed the floor back into its proper place and smoothed the carpet back over it.
“Dasid will let us know when he’s found what we’re looking for.” Kane sat back down and smiled at the Guild Master. “But we need to find some trade good to make our visit more credible.”
Kane and Guild Master Brunger agreed on a piece of very fine silk in a clear green that reminded Kane of the colour of Brenna’s eye.
There was a soft knock on the floor from below and Kane shoved the carpet aside while Brunger lifted the floor. Kane grabbed Dasid’s arm and pulled him up.
“Any luck?” he asked.
Dasid nodded and lifted one edge of his cloak. Kane smiled - he’d found it. The floor and carpet were quickly settled back into place and Kane handed the green silk to Dasid, who wrapped it around what he’d found. With a nod to Brunger, Kane opened the door back to the shop.
“Thank you, Guild Master,” Kane said. “This bit of silk is just the thing for my master’s daughter.” He shoved his hat low on his head before turning toward the open door. He dramatically held the door while Dasid, his hood covering his head once again, bowed to Marcus Brunger on his way out of the room.
The trip back to the Crooked Dog was slow as they stopped to wait while a salvation march thronged the streets ahead of them. Kane couldn’t help but worry about what would happen if one of these groups caught Brenna. The witch hunters would be in for a surprise - Brenna had more than enough magic to deal with them. They’d know she was a witch, though and she’d have to leave Kingsreach, maybe for good.
“Did you get it?” Brenna asked as soon as Kane and Dasid entered the room at the Dog. It felt like they’d been gone for ages although it was only an hour at most. Kane smiled and held out a package of silk. She took it from him, feeling the solid weight in her hand. She quickly slipped the silk off and let it fall to the table. “You got it.” She grinned as she flipped the book open - the old book of plans for Thorold’s estate, the one she’d taken from the library almost a year ago.
“The Guild Master would be horrified to see how you treat his best silk,” Kane chided her but when she looked up at him he was smiling. He picked up the silk, folded it into a small square and tucked it into his belt. Brenna bent her head back down to the book.
She’d spent countless hours poring over the contents of this book looking for a way into Thorold’s estate. And she’d found one - the entrance she’d used to recover her mother’s knife. Unfortunately she’d also been caught. But there were other ways in to Thorold’s estate - entrances she was certain were there but hadn’t been able to investigate.
“Do you think you can find another way in?’ Kane asked.
“I already know at least three places that are likely,” she said. “I plan on exploring them tonight.”
“I thought you only found the one last time?”
“Only the one I could puzzle at without getting caught,” Brenna said. “The others were too much in the open. The guards would have gotten a clear view of anyone trying use these entrances,” she grinned. “Anyone visible.” She flipped to a page in the book. She wanted to confirm that she knew the exact locations of the entrances and how to trip the mechanisms. She was leaving as soon as it got dark.
Brenna crept along the wall, trying to calm her nerves. Now that she was finally doing something she needed to take the time to be careful. She’d spelled herself invisible even before she’d left the Dog - staying invisible was getting easier all the time and she didn’t feel even the slightest twinge of a headache. She hoped that boded well for the next night, when they planned to rescue both Neal and Avery.
She’d had word from Jemma - Beldyn confirmed that Neal was being held in the church of the One-God. Eryl’s crew had been watching the church for days - there were many priests and followers at the church at all times of the day and night but the church posted few guards outside. They would have to contend with guards within the High Bishop’s chamber though - reports from Eryl’s contacts indicated that the High Bishop didn’t entirely trust his well-being to the One-God and always had guards with him.
The final piece of information they needed was how to get Duchess Avery out of Duke Thorold’s estate. That was Brenna’s task tonight.
She studied the guards, trying to time their movements. She wanted them as far away as possible - opening a passage that could have been closed for decades might be noisy.
Once the guards were as far away from her as they would get, she brushed invisible fingers over the stone of the wall. There, she felt something. She tu
rned away from the wall as her fingers tripped the mechanism. A crack opened in the wall and she pried it open wider. Brenna eased through the gap and into the wall as quickly as she could, jamming a stick in the doorway to wedge the door ajar so she could get back out later.
It took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dark. She could always light the way with her knife but the light from this passage might be visible in the house - for now she would feel her way. She slid her foot forward and as she’d expected, felt a stair. Carefully she headed down.
Twelve stairs down and twenty-four paces east brought her up against a wall. She hoped that she’d passed under the garden and that this was the stone foundation of the house.
She paused - from the diagrams in the book and her own memories of being inside of the house she thought the main audience chamber would be above her. Thorold’s study would be north of her. She felt the wall in front of her for the mechanism - there was quiet click and the door swung in towards her. She leaned past the door, listening intently. Except for the expected cellar sounds of mice scuttling about she didn’t hear anything.
Brenna took a deep breath and stepped into a store room. There were no guards, thank Jik, and it was dark. Now that she was in the cellar she had to find the cell where Avery was being kept. She wouldn’t try to see or speak to Avery tonight, she didn’t want to chance alerting the guards – Avery would be moved if there was anything suspicious and they couldn’t afford that. Brenna would contact her later through Laurel, once she was safely back at the Dog.
She gently pulled the passage way door closed. Another twig kept it ajar just enough for her to see the outline of the door against the stone of the wall.
She moved slowly - her ability to see well in the dark allowing her to navigate safely through the crates and old furniture that littered the room. She made her way to a door along the east wall. She looked back along the path she’d come, memorizing her escape route.