by Jane Glatt
Mannel stood and took Evlan’s arm and proceeded to a small door at the back of the room. A guard opened the door and they stepped through, leaving Brenna and her men to follow.
“He seems very unconcerned about our weapons,” Brenna sent to Dasid. Then she was hit by call so strong that she almost lost her balance.
“Brenna, Brenna, answer me. Are you there?”
Pater put a hand on her arm, steadying her.
“Kane. Are you all right?”
“Yes, but I have news that can’t wait. Beldyn has named you his heir.”
“Beldyn?” she said aloud. “He did what?”
“He named you his heir,” Kane repeated. “In front of a crowd and Duke Thorold and the High Bishop. Instead of naming his younger brother, he named you. Now he’s in grave danger. We’re going to try to get him to safety as soon as possible.”
“Yes, save him. Please Kane.”
“We’ll do our best but he must have known the consequences.”
“I don’t want him sacrificing himself for me.”
“I think he did it for the people of Soule. He knows what his father has planned for them and wants to stop it. He’ll make a great leader one day.”
“If he lives that long,” Brenna said. “Be careful. I’ll contact you later.” She dropped the connection and found herself facing Dasid, Wils and Pater.
“That was Kane,” she said. “Beldyn has named me his heir.” Brenna heard a soft gasp and turned and met Evlan’s eyes.
“If what you say is true then Thorold is all but defeated,” King Mannel said when Brenna repeated Kane’s message. “And though there is no proof I’m of a mind to believe you.”
“Thorold is now more desperate and dangerous than ever,” Brenna said. “He will not give up, not after working so many years to get control of the throne.”
“But the boy has declared an heir publicly and according to your laws,” Mannel said. “There isn’t much that can be done.”
“Not legally, no,” Dasid said. “But we have no reason to believe Duke Thorold will hold to the laws.”
“I’m sure Beldyn’s been handed over to the High Bishop already,” Brenna said. Her heart sank at the thought of the treatment Beldyn was in for. Thorold would be furious, more furious than even she’d made him. He would make Beldyn pay. “There isn’t much time. If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes there are people I must communicate this to.” Mannel nodded and she looked at Dasid. “Please keep our host company until I return. I’ll be as quick as possible.”
Brenna left the room. As the doors closed behind her, she spied Orpe hovering near the exit.
“Orpe, would you be kind enough to find a quiet room for me?” Brenna said.
The seneschal bowed and gestured to her to follow him.
“This room should be comfortable enough,” he said. He picked up a lamp from a table beside a single door, opened the door, and ushered her in. He walked around the small room and lit three other waiting lamps.
“Do you need anything, tea perhaps or a glass of wine or brandy?” he asked.
Brenna shook her head. “Thank you, no,” she said.
He bowed and left the room.
Sighing, she took a seat on a small settee and placed her knife on the table in front of her. There was no fire in the grate and the room had a slight chill but she wouldn’t be here for very long. Who to tell first, Brenna thought and then knew she had to try to contact as many people in Kingsreach as she could. With her mental map of Soule in place she gathered her energy, touched her knife and reached out with her power.
The lights of all the Brothers lay before her. She easily picked out Kane but passed over him. She sensed Guild Master Brunger but no matter strongly she called him he didn’t answer. She’d never been able to contact him by herself but she needed to get a message to him tonight and she didn’t want to risk Kane and Eryl. She searched light after light, touching all the old steel she saw but none of it was familiar. Finally, in a small corner of what she thought was Thieves Quarter, she sensed old steel that she recognized.
“Martyn, is that you?” she called and felt his surprise. “Please Martyn it’s Brenna. I need to talk to you.”
“Brenna?” he replied tentatively. “Is that really you? How are you doing this?”
“I’m contacting you through the old steel. Grab hold of your knife Martyn, then I’ll be clearer.”
“Like this?” His question was much stronger.
“That’s right, that helps. I need to know if you’re somewhere safe.”
“Yes, I’m staying at my Uncle Pater’s.” His voice broke and Brenna gasped, horrified that she hadn’t gotten word to him, somehow, that his uncle was safe. “He’s got a little place off an alley. He was rounded up a few weeks ago, but my ma and me need the money so I’m doing the work.” How could she have forgotten Pater’s family?
“Martyn, I’m truly sorry. I should have had gotten word to you. Pater is safe. He’s with me.”
“Uncle Pater’s all right? Brenna, are you sure? I can’t tell my ma if it’s not true.”
“Duke Thorold was sending him and some others to King Mannel,” Brenna said. “We were able to ambush them and release the prisoners.” She could feel the lad’s joy through the old steel. “Martyn, I’ll get a message to you from him later, but right now I need you to do something for me. I need you to find Carolie’s father, Guild Master Brunger. Tonight, if it’s safe.”
“It’s safe enough for the likes of me,” Martyn said. “Is this to do with King Beldyn naming you his heir?”
“Yes. I need you to find Marcus so I can talk to him. Can you do that?”
“I’ll go now,” Martyn said. “How do I get in touch with you again?”
“Keep your knife on you and I’ll contact you later tonight,” Brenna replied. She hoped King Mannel would not be too insulted but dinner would have to be fast - she had much to do tonight.
She contacted Kane and let him know that Martyn was going to find the Guild Master. Next she reached out for another of her training partners.
“Jemma, it’s Brenna,” she said. It took only a few moments for her to relay Beldyn’s actions but then she had to calm the poor girl down before she was able to give her message. “We’re doing everything we can to get him to safety,” Brenna promised. “But please tell Ewart. Ask him to send an official response to Duke Thorold accepting me as heir to the throne of Soule. Thorold needs to know that he can’t ignore this.”
She repeated the tale to Yowan, asking Avery to also advise Thorold that she accepted Brenna as heir.
Finally, Brenna strapped her knife back around her waist. She stifled a yawn as she stood up. She was exhausted but she had couldn’t delay her meal with King Mannel any longer. She opened the door to the hall and Orpe was at her side instantly, leading her back to the king’s private dining room.
“I apologize for my absence your Majesty, Princess Evlan,” Brenna said. She bowed formally before being led to a seat at the King’s left.
Evlan sat across from her with Dasid and Wils beside the Princess. Pater smiled from his seat on her left. She clutched his hand and squeezed it. She’d tell him she’d spoken to Martyn later, in private.
“That’s all right Brenna Trewen,” Mannel said. “Dasid has been enlightening me on your rather unusual background.”
“Really,” Brenna looked over at Dasid. He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip. “And what might he have told you?”
“I’m sure many of your secrets are still safe. But it is unusual for a thief to become a queen, don’t you think?”
“I consider it very good training, actually,” Brenna said. “After all, a thief must have patience to watch and wait for the right opportunity rather than rushing in to an unknown situation. And a good thief learns that not all men value the same things.”
“How so?” Mannel asked.
“Well, a merchant, for instance, may hold his account books dearest, while a poor man m
ay not let that gold crown out of his sight.”
“And what might a ruler see value in?”
“His people, his integrity,” Brenna paused and looked from Mannel to Evlan. “His family.”
“Yes, a good ruler should value those things very highly,” Mannel agreed.
“Which is why I ask that you not agree to help Duke Thorold,” Brenna said. “He holds none of those things dear, as he has shown by his actions”.
“So it would seem,” Mannel said.
Brenna was certain that the meal was delicious but later she couldn’t remember what she’d been served. She ate automatically, thinking about what had to be done after this meal. For the most part she let Dasid carry the conversation, but she was aware of what was discussed.
“Will the commitment between Beldyn and I be honoured if Brenna does wear the crown in Kingsreach?” Evlan asked.
“No,” Brenna said loudly. “Beldyn has no doubt been sent to the High Bishop.”
She shivered as Mannel and Evlan watched, frowning.
“I know what’s likely to happen to him,” she continued. “If we’re able to save him, I will not force him into anything.”
“But he’s agreed to this,” King Mannel said. “He should hold to his word.”
“If he wishes it, I will not object,” Brenna said. “But I will not force him, nor will I hold him to it if he has been … damaged.” She met Mannel’s gaze. “Nor would I hold you to the agreement either.”
“Damaged, in what way damaged?” Evlan asked and Brenna turned her gaze on the girl.
“After being ministered to by the High Bishop Valden Neal Ravershaw is missing his thumbs,” she said. “He can no longer hold a sword, a terrible injury for a life-long soldier. Who can say what damage Thorold might let the High Bishop inflict on Beldyn? Thorold needs no heir from him, although I’m sure you would like children out of any union.”
“How barbaric,” Evlan said, her face pale. “Father, Duke Thorold wouldn’t do that, would he?”
“High Bishop Valden would,” Mannel said. “If Thorold only needs the boy alive with no requirement for him to produce an heir Valden would have free rein. There is no telling what injuries he would inflict.” Mannel sat back and fingered his glass. “Of course I have no quick way to verify what you have told me but I am coming to the conclusion that Duke Thorold can offer me nothing. I can refuse to commit anything to him until the spring,” Mannel said. “Will that be enough time?”
“Yes,” Brenna replied. “Thank you.” She glanced at Dasid, who nodded. “By late spring the decision will be made for you. If I win you will have my gratitude.”
Evlan sat beside her father, pouting and Brenna wondered just how much influence the girl held over the king. Beldyn would not marry her, of that Brenna was certain - she’d felt both his and Jemma’s feelings through old steel. Jemma would be his choice, if he was in any condition to be a husband and father after so many hours with the High Bishop.
The four of them walked back to their rooms in silence. Wils and Pater stopped at the tavern for ales but Brenna signaled Dasid to follow her to her room. She needed to talk to Pater, but there were more pressing issues.
“He’ll keep his word,” Dasid said once he’d closed the door. “We have until spring. That will hamper Thorold’s efforts to muster the forces he’ll require to take Fallad.”
“Yes, I think so too. But Evlan could be a problem.” Brenna sat down on the bed while Dasid took the one chair. “She has her heart set on marrying Beldyn even though they have never met. I don’t think Beldyn would ever agree to the match, not unless he’s forced into it.”
“I wouldn’t if I were him.” Dasid sent her a look. “It’s his father’s idea. Besides, I got the impression that he and Jemma were fond of each other.”
“Yes.” Brenna remembered the girl’s panic when she’d heard that Beldyn had been taken to the High Bishop. “If we can save him I want him to choose for himself. I think he’ll choose Jemma.”
“And he is the heir to Comack,” Dasid said. “You’ll need strong, legitimate support there once Thorold is defeated. Ewart said he had been approached as a match for Evlan a few years ago. Maybe it isn’t specifically Beldyn she’s interested in.”
Brenna looked up at him. “You think she simply wants to marry?”
“I think she’s a princess and does not wish to settle for anyone too far below her own station,” Dasid said. “It’s unfortunate we don’t have any more suitable young men to put in her path.”
Brenna sat up at that. “Oh but we do.” She smiled at Dasid’s puzzled look. “I think I can produce a suitable enough young man for her.” She laughed. “I may even be able to have him sent here before winter sets in. That will keep her too busy to question her father’s decision.”
“Anyone I know?” Dasid asked.
“No,” Brenna replied. “And that’s all I’m going to say until I know he’s agreeable. Now, I need to contact Kane, Martyn and Jemma.” Brenna unsheathed her knife and laid it on the bed.
Thorold watched the High Bishop trace a knife across his son’s bare chest. A thin, red line of blood welled up on the smooth skin. Barely old enough for hair to grow on his chest and he’s already tried to ruin me, Thorold thought in disgust. He himself had to accept some blame, he knew. He’d chosen the boy’s mother after all. As weak-willed a woman as he’d ever met. One of the reasons he’d married her. That and her father’s exceptional horses and grazing lands. But it turned out that the boy had inherited his strength of will and the mother had not had the backbone to discipline him enough. It was obvious to him now that it was too late to re-educate Beldyn. Well, he had another son.
Thorold walked up to the rock slab that his son lay on. The bindings were tight and Beldyn’s flesh showed purple bruises where the ropes bit into him. “Loosen these,” he said to the priest who stood at the lad’s feet. “I don’t want him loosing any limbs.” He turned to watch his son’s face. “Yet.” He was disappointed at the challenge he saw in Beldyn’s eyes. “I hope you don’t expect me to save you,” he said.
“Oh no, I expect to die,” Beldyn said. “But it’s better than living under your rule and watching you destroy this city and its people. I’ve done what I can to make sure you don’t succeed. And I’d do it all again.”
“And what exactly do you think you’ve done little boy?” Thorold leaned over him and stared into his eyes. “How exactly do you think you’ve hurt me?”
“I’ve named Brenna as my heir.”
“A mere trifle. I think we can arrange for you to recant that. A death bed confession to the High Bishop would likely suffice, wouldn’t it Valden?”
“Oh yes, I think that could be managed.” High Bishop Valden wiped the blooded blade on a clean cloth and smiled at him.
Beldyn closed his eyes briefly. “The people will never believe that,” he said.
“The people will believe what I tell them to believe!” Thorold shouted, glaring at his son. “I control Kingsreach.” Then Beldyn smiled and before he could stop himself he reached out and slapped his son, hard. “I control Kingsreach, and Soule, I tell you.”
“You’d be surprised at how little you do control Father,” Beldyn said. Thorold’s palm print was clearly visible on his face. “You’ve never controlled Thieves Quarter. The Kingsguard today are no match for a real army. Even nobles and merchants oppose you. People who have eaten your food and drunk your fine wines have been plotting against you all this time. Plotting to help Brenna to take her place as queen.”
“You lie, I’d know if there were traitors in my own house.”
“Would you? The Brotherhood has spent thousands of years watching, waiting, listening and no one suspected them for all those years. What makes you think you’re a match for that?”
“The Brotherhood,” Thorold sputtered. “What do you know about the Brotherhood?”
“That they are more prepared than you ever gave them credit for. Even now Kane Rowse is raisi
ng and training an army. What do you have? A plan to starve men into fighting for you and a Kingsguard that is a shadow of what it was when a Rowse was captain. The old timers say that last bit behind your back.”
Thorold backhanded Beldyn, his ring tearing a bloody gash across his son’s face. How dare he taunt him like this?
“High Bishop, do not do any permanent damage but I want him I great pain,” Thorold said before leaning down to his son. “I wish him to suffer for thinking he can best me.”
He rose and left the room without looking back. As the door closed behind him he heard a soft grunt of pain and smiled. Beldyn would learn to regret betraying his father. It would be his last lesson but he would learn it before he died.
Taking a deep breath, Thorold pushed the door open and walked into the church of the One-God. He nodded when he saw so many faithful at their devotions, even at this late hour. The church had greatly expanded its influence over the people and it was a useful tool. He signaled to his personal guards. Now for wine and perhaps a woman. One he had no need to be gentle with.
Kane looked out from under his hood and tried to slow his heart rate. Duke Thorold had passed not two feet in front of him and it had taken all of his self-control to remain still and keep his head bowed as if in prayer. Thorold’s presence meant that his fear was confirmed - Beldyn was in the hands of High Bishop Valden. If they didn’t save him within a few days there may not be enough of the boy to salvage.
Two Kingsguard stood beside the door to the lower level - Thorold and Valden had learned their lessons from Neal Ravershaw’s rescue. More Guards were probably posted on the other side of that door and in the rooms below. The two acolytes beside Kane rose and he rose with them, following them to the church entrance. Once outside, he melted into the shadows and made his way back to the Quarter.
Eryl wasn’t back at the old stable yet so Kane lit the lamp and poured himself a cup of stale water. He gulped it down, hoping that Eryl had been able to find them something to eat. He shook out the robe he’d worn and hung it on a nail near the door. Next he peeled the beard off. He scratched his chin in relief, hoping he didn’t have fleas. He pulled the chair up and sat with his feet on the bench and his hand on his sword hilt as he settled in to wait for Brenna.