by Jane Glatt
“Neemah didn’t wrap my ankle. When we was invisible I tripped over young Ronan and put my ankle out. I had t’ wrap it up in order to keep moving.” Pater reached out and placed his hand on her arm and she looked up into his serious eyes. “I want t’ thank ye, Brenna, fer savin’ me. Even though you shouldn’t a done it, shouldn’t a put yerself at risk, I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome Pater.” Brenna smiled. “I didn’t feel I was in any great risk otherwise I wouldn’t have done it.” Pater’s eyebrows lifted and she smiled. “All right, maybe I would have done it anyway - but I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let people, especially my friends, suffer when I can do something to help.”
Pater looked at her steadily for a few seconds. “Fair enough,” he said at last. “Ye can’t go against yer nature, bein’ a healer and all. But that invisible thing.” He shook his head. “That were somethin’, I tell ye, not knowin’ how to find the boy ifn’ I was to let go of him. And he’s a hard one t’ keep a hold of, that Ronan. Now, I offered t’ help, so let me know what ye want done with this.” Pater gestured to the salve she was holding.
After she’d sent Pater off with the salve Brenna finally had some time to get cleaned up herself. She found her saddle bag and rummaged through it, looking for something clean to wear. Neemah had mentioned that some of the women were taking advantage of a stream that was close by so clothing in hand, Brenna headed there.
She heard voices, quiet and subdued, but when she rounded an evergreen the voices stopped.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said as she saw two women scrabble from the stream and wrap themselves in blankets. Two other women looked at her suspiciously. Brenna nodded and picked a spot a few feet upstream from them.
Carefully, she placed her clean clothes on a rock and peeled off her dirty ones, letting them drop to the ground. Her earlier magic had sent the rain clouds away and now the stars dotted the darkening sky. She stepped into the water, biting her lip as the cold numbed first her feet and then her whole body. Despite her shivering she was determined to get as much muck and grime of the day off her. She scrubbed at her skin and as soon as she felt clean enough, Brenna climbed out and started donning her clean clothes.
“Where’d ye get them fresh clothes?” one of the women asked. She was wrapped in a blanket, no doubt one of the ones they’d brought in the wagon.
“Oh, from my saddle bag,” Brenna said, pulling her breeches up and dragging her shirt over her head. “Sorry, Neemah and I didn’t think to add clean clothes to the supplies.” Brenna picked up her belt and knife and wrapped the belt around her waist, letting her shirt drop to cover the hilt of her knife.
“Yer the one’s saved us,” a second woman said, her eyes wide in the dusk. “The one Neemah’s boy said is goin’ to be queen.”
“Yes, well, someone’s got to do.” Brenna bundled up Pater’s old coat. She sighed. She wished Ronan hadn’t told them about her.
The first woman stood up and backed downstream a little. “He also said you was a witch.”
Brenna turned to face the women. “Yes, that’s true,” she said. “I am a witch. Despite what the church says witches aren’t evil. Mostly we just try to help people. Me, I’ve been healing in the Quarter for years. Does that sound evil?”
“You’re the healer lived over Mistress Dudding’s shop?” One of the women who had been keeping to the back, warily stepped forward.
Brenna nodded.
“You helped my sister when her boy was sick with the fever. No one else would talk to her cause they was afraid of catchin’ what he had, but you came right over, she said.” The woman stepped up and held her hand out. “I’m Shalla.”
“Brenna.” Brenna smiled at the woman and took her hand in her own. Two of the others came forward too but the fourth simply wrapped her blanket tighter and hurried away.
“Don’t mind her,” Shalla said. “The witch haters took her ma and then she got put with these wagons. This here’s Glyn and Iona. Did you come on the wagon with Neemah? I didn’t see you there.”
“Not for the last few days.” Neemah stepped out of the dusk. “But this whole rescue was her idea. Brenna even took Pater’s place with the men in order to make sure everyone was safe.” Neemah turned to Brenna and handed her a wrapped cloth. “Here’s some dinner. I’ve delayed Dasid as much as I could to give you a chance to get cleaned up but he says he has more information from the prisoners and he needs you to come as soon as you can. Now ladies, let’s get you three get back to camp. We’ll need everyone’s help to get us all settled for the night.”
Neemah herded the women up the stream bed, back towards the camp. She looked back at Brenna and winked and Brenna smiled, grateful to have a respite from their questions and curious looks. With a sigh she opened the cloth to find a thick slice of cheese and some dried meat and journey bread. She ate as she walked back to drop her bundle of dirty clothes near the wagon. A few minutes later she found Dasid, Wils and Pater huddled around a fire.
Kane paced the room, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Brenna had sent him a quick word of their success and the promise that she would contact him later with all the details. Now it was midnight and there was still no word. He hated this waiting. He stopped pacing and laughed.
“What’s so funny? Did Brenna contact you?” Eryl asked. He was sprawled in the chair, his feet on the wooden bench.
“No. I was just thinking about how much I take Brenna’s abilities for granted.” Kane shoved Eryl’s feet to the edge of the bench and sat down. “When I was Captain of the Kingsguard and I sent men out on a mission, let’s say near the border with Langemore, it could be months before I knew if they were successful and even longer before I could talk directly to the men involved and get the details. Now,” he shook his head. “Now I already know that today’s mission was successful yet I’m still impatient for details.”
“Brenna does that - make you forget how things were before her,” Eryl said. “There’s been no healer in the Quarter for over a year and more folk have died than would have if Brenna had still been here, I’ll tell you that.”
“Well don’t tell her that,” Kane said. The last thing he wanted was for Brenna to feel responsible for people dying in Thieves Quarter. “Did Marcus have news?”
“Just that even less trade is coming into the city than expected.” Eryl had just returned from meeting with the Guild Master. “He’s worried that food shortages will happen even before midwinter.”
“That’s sooner than we thought,” Kane said. They’d hoped the food would last until early spring at the very least. “Can he ship more in?”
“Not sure,” Eryl said. “Marcus has the word out to all corners of Soule but either the goods aren’t there or the traders won’t come to Kingsreach. Although.” Eryl’s lip curled. “If food is scarce enough there might be those who’ll risk coming in order to make a huge profit.”
“By Jik,” Kane said in disgust. “The Quarter can’t afford food now. These traders will get rich by feeding those few with money and allow the rest to starve.”
“So Marcus says,” Eryl agreed.
“And most of Kingsreach starves.” Kane dragged his hand through his hair, hating this feeling of powerlessness.
“Not exactly,” Eryl drawled. “The church has promised to feed anyone who follows the One-God. The High Bishop issued a proclamation a few days ago.” He grinned. “The people of Thieves Quarter have always been practical.”
“And they’ll be fed? Won’t the church be suspicious?”
“I’m sure they will be,” Eryl said. “But they’d still have to feed any who ask. They can’t let their true believers catch them lying. Lots of folk have already converted.”
“And are they convincing?”
“That’s where I come in.” Eryl flashed him another grin. “My lads and me have been working on some things folk can say and do that the church can’t ignore. Marcus had some ideas on that as well.”
/> Kane smiled. They could help keep the people of Kingsreach fed and put extra stress on Thorold and the High Bishop at the same time. “I like this. With everyone converting Duke Thorold will have a harder time finding people to ship off to the mines,” he said.
Eryl nodded. Kane was about to settle back against the wall when he felt Brenna contacting him.
“Kane,” she said. “Kane.”
“I’m here.” His hand gripped his sword pommel tight. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. There were no serious injuries for either Dasid’s men or the prisoners. Just blisters and a turned ankle or two.” Brenna paused. “Pater says hello.”
“Tell him I’m glad he’s fine,” Kane said. “But I’m still angry you risked yourself. You shouldn’t have.”
“But it worked,” Brenna replied.
“And next time it might not. When you accepted the crown you accepted the responsibility to lead. You’re the only one who can.” He paused, trying to find just the right words. “It’s not that I don’t care what happens to anyone else but we are all expendable compared to you. All of us.” She had to understand this or she would never be a great leader, she would never see the overall picture and would spend her time and energy dealing with the smaller problems - problems that could be handled by others.
“Brenna?” She remained silent but he could still feel her through old steel - he called her again. “Brenna?”
“I’m here,” she replied. “And you’re wrong.”
“I simply want you to keep yourself as safe as possible,” he said. “You have to understand your role. There are other things – more important tasks – that only you can do.”
“I understand what you’re saying.” Her words crackled with anger. “But you’re wrong. Only I could have created that illusion, only I could have manipulated the fog. My magic made this a bloodless fight. That’s worth it to me.”
“All right,” Kane said, startled. He couldn’t remember the last time Brenna had been this angry at him. “But you risked yourself unnecessarily to save Pater.”
“In my view, not an unnecessary risk. I saved both Pater and Ronan and taking Pater’s place allowed me to know where the guards were at all times. That helped Dasid a lot.”
“Yes, but …” Kane started but Brenna cut him off.
“Kane, you have to trust me. I’m not a child. And if I’m to rule then I need to learn to make decisions.” She paused. “And maybe the odd mistake. Which would be better to make during a small skirmish than an all out war, don’t you think?”
“You’re right,” Kane said. And she was. He shook his head. He’d wanted her to start learning to rule. It served him right that she started by disagreeing with him. “I’m sorry. You and Dasid conceived a plan that you felt was appropriate and that plan worked exceptionally well. Now tell me what you and Dasid have found out about these slavers.”
Kane leaned back against the wall as Brenna told him what they’d learned from the leader of the wagon guards.
“You don’t think Mannel even wants the prisoners as slaves?” he asked. “I’ll have Marcus see what he can find out about that tomorrow. I’m meeting him in the morning so there’s no need for you to contact him tonight. The last few days must have drained you. Draw some strength from me if you need to.”
“I’m fine. I took Dasid’s advice and drew some power from Gaskain last night.”
“Good to hear it.” Kane thanked the gods that she was starting to overcome her reluctance to using Brothers when she needed to. “How long before you’re out of Comack?” Thorold’s militia patrolled even that high in the mountains, but none of them knew how often. If he was in charge he’d have men doing sweeps at minimum every three or four weeks.
“Dasid says another day. Most of the Kingsreach folk are just tired so a single day’s rest with a few good meals should help put them to rights. And going downhill will be easier than up.”
“Are they all going to Silverdale?” Kane asked.
“Neemah’s going to sort them out,” Brenna replied and Kane was relieved that she was letting someone handle this task. “She’ll find out what skills they have and tell them who they can speak to once they reach town. She already thinks that some may be better going farther north.”
“Tell Dasid he did good work.” Kane paused. “And so did you, Brenna. I’m proud of you, I just need you to stay safe.”
“I’ll do my best,” Brenna replied. “Right now I need to get some sleep.”
“Good night then. I’ll let you know what I find out from Marcus.” He smiled as their conversation ended and looked up to see Eryl grinning at him.
“By the looks that crossed your face,” Eryl said. “I’d guess Brenna that with a crown is still the same Brenna - frustrating and surprising at the same time.”
Startled, Kane laughed.
Three days later, the first night they had the wagons heading back towards Silverdale, Brenna contacted Kane.
Kane told her that Marcus’ network of merchants, Brothers and minor nobility could find nothing that indicated that King Mannel was other than a king who was trying to help his people, and his country, prosper. The nobles knew that he was eager to wed his daughter but there was nothing suspicious about his desire to either expand his holdings or increase trade by doing that. A few merchants had heard rumours that Langemore’s fishing fleets had not been successful for the past few seasons and that Mannel wanted to secure trade for grain and meat to offset the poor catches.
“We know that Mannel had offered his daughter in marriage to Ewart long before Thorold proposed Beldyn,” Brenna said when Kane finished his report. “There are no rumours that he’s interested in war. Maybe all he wants is to feed his people?”
“But Mannel was considered a threat long before his daughter was of marriageable age,” Kane replied. “It was certainly discussed at council with Mattias.”
“Yes, but who brought it up?”
He paused for a moment. “You’re right. It was always Thorold who described Langemore as a threat – and Thorold corresponded with him on behalf of King Mattias.”
“And we know Thorold was poisoning Mattias for at least six years.” Brenna paused. “Kane, you’ve been there, on the border with Langemore. Did you ever have any trouble with Mannel’s troops?”
“None. Bandits were preying on the folk who live there, on both sides of the border, and the Kingsguard and the Langemorian army worked together to rout them.” She felt his sigh across the distance that separated them. “Maybe King Mannel isn’t doing anything other than bargaining with Thorold.”
“That’s what I think. I also think we need to change that.”
“What do you have in mind?’ Kane asked. She could hear the wariness in the question. He wouldn’t like her answer but it was something that only she could do.
“I need to pay a visit to King Mannel.”
Kane was quiet for a few moments. She could feel his fear through their connection. A trek over the mountains wasn’t something she wanted to do, but she felt it was necessary.
“I can’t forbid it,” he said. “You are going to be queen and you need to do what you feel is right. But I will council against it. We have no idea what kind of reception you will receive. Besides, it will be winter soon and you could be stranded in Langemore until spring. You can’t be gone that long, not when we’re expecting to go to war in the spring.”
“I won’t be stranded,” she replied. “I can manipulate the weather so I’ll be able to get there and back – and I’m the only one who can do that. Just as I’m the only one who can talk to Mannel sovereign to sovereign and I’m the only one who can communicate with all parts of Soule.” There was a pause and Brenna bit her lip. She’d expected him to rant, to be angry, but his controlled, thoughtful argument underscored by the intense fear she felt from him through the old steel was almost unbearable. She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t go, that she’d return to Silverdale and stay safe all winter.
But that wasn’t what she needed to do - she knew that in her heart.
“Did you have this planned before I contacted you?” Kane finally asked.
She felt his resignation and worry and was sad that she was causing him yet more grief.
“No,’ Brenna said. “But it makes sense.”
“By Jik, it makes sense,” Kane said. “But I need you to have a solid plan. One that Dasid finds acceptable.”
“Of course,” Brenna agreed. Dasid’s plans always worked. But then, so did hers.
“You need what?” Duke Thorold glared across the table at High Bishop Valden.
“I have authorized my priests to feed any who profess to convert,” Valden said.
“I know that.” Thorold waved his hand at Captain Barton, who bowed and stepped out of the council chamber. That left only Beldyn, who was looking at Valden curiously. “We discussed this. You were to wait until the snow before proclaiming that you would feed the faithful, which you didn’t. How is it that you have run out of food so soon?”
“We’ve had hundreds, even thousands showing up at the church each morning to receive the promised food,” Valden said. “What choice have I but to feed them?”
“They can’t have all converted,” Thorold said. “What proof do they offer?”
“They offer the proof that is in their hearts and souls,” replied Valden, smiling gently. “The One-God needs no other proof.”
“Well I do. You cannot feed any more of them without proof they’ve truly converted to the One-God, I forbid it.” He’d planned it all so carefully. Once winter, and hunger set in, the people would be desperate and easy to handle. He could fill his army with nothing more than the promise of a full belly.
“I cannot refuse them, Duke Thorold. It goes against the teachings of the One-God.”
“So do your methods of interrogation and conversion but you conveniently overlook that,” Thorold said. He’d had enough of the man’s hypocrisy. Once he had Mannel’s loyalty secured the High Bishop would have an accident. Who would replace Valden as the High Bishop? He’d need to find someone suitable and start preparing them. He still had uses for the church, just not for this High Bishop. He could truthfully accuse him of torture – and if he made an example of him, he might even gain favour with some of the nobles.