by Jane Glatt
left to find their rescuers.
Brenna eased herself off the bed and rummaged in her pack. She pulled out a few bundles and sniffed at one - lavender. She poured some dried petals into her palm and rubbed gently before she tossed them into the bath water. She slipped into the tub and sighed as the warmth soaked into her bruised and battered muscles.
She rubbed her wrist where Barton had grabbed her. If she hadn’t had the weapons training from Feiren and Kane she probably would be dead. Goose bumps raised on her arm despite the warmth of the bath. It hadn’t much mattered to Barton whether she was alive or dead when he delivered her to Duke Thorold. She’d heard it in his voice, seen it in his eyes, and felt it through his sword.
Another new thing - being able to sense a person’s intent through old steel. She’d never wanted any of it. Still didn’t, but now she needed every advantage she had just to stay alive.
The water was cool by the time the hollow rumble of her stomach finally forced her from the bath. Brenna smoothed a peppery salve onto her aching muscles and then dug into her pack for some clean clothes. What she’d worn today was filthy and torn - she’d be wearing her black thieving gear before long. She eyed herself in the mirror and grimaced. The skin around her right eye was swollen and red, and one side of her lip was puffed up. She gently prodded the inflamed skin. At least there was no permanent damage.
She pulled the old steel mortar and pestle out of her pack, along with an assortment of herbs and roots. The old steel felt almost warm in her hands. She rubbed her thumb along the base. Feiren had given her the mortar and pestle, along with the coronet. He’d said they belonged with her, the heir. She hadn’t argued. They had such a strong draw on her she couldn’t have left them behind and she was grateful that she hadn’t been forced to steal them from a man who’d only shown her kindness.
She put the ingredients into the mortar and crushed them into a green, pungent paste. She scooped some up and gently spread it around her eye, careful not to tug too hard at the tender skin. She let the paste sit until the top layer dried and cracked before she wiped the excess off. It would be better leave it on, but she didn’t think she get served in the common room with the thick green paste caked on her face.
She pulled her hair back with a cord and checked herself in the mirror. No trace of green paste but she probably didn’t smell very good. She shrugged. She couldn’t do anything about that now. She opened the door and almost collided with one of the Brothers.
“They’re down the hall a ways,” he said. “It’s the third door on the left.”
“Thank you,” Brenna replied. She closed the door to the room and headed down the hall. No meal in the common room after all. She wasn’t sure she liked having a guard standing outside of her door. Was he there to keep others out or to keep her in?
She was let into the room by one of the Brothers.
“Brenna,” Kane said. “You made it. This is our host, Lord Westley Stobert.”
Kane sat at a table across from Lord Stobert. A pitcher of ale and some glasses sat on the table. “Lord Stobert, this is Brenna Lightfingers. The Caller.”
“Well met, Lord Stobert,” Brenna said. “Thank you for your help.”
“My pleasure,” he said. “My men will have a tale to tell about the Caller, won’t they?” Lord Stobert rose and shook her hand. “Please, sit.”
Gratefully, Brenna sank into a chair at the table. Kane poured her a glass of ale and she took a sip.
Stobert waved to the guard at the door, who nodded once and left the room.
“Quint will fetch our supper,” Stobert said. “Captain Rowse assured me you’d appreciate the venison.”
“Thank you,” Brenna said. “Kane is right about that.” She leaned back and looked around the room.
A second guard stood by the window. Were they expecting anyone to come in that way? Brenna pushed her weariness aside. Kane seemed relaxed, but she wasn’t.
There was one Brother in here, one out in the hall and Quint on his way to the kitchen. Brenna touched her knife briefly and searched for more old steel. She recognized the blades of the two men who had escorted them to the inn. Jesson, Kane had called one. They were outside, most likely in the stable. One more blade that felt familiar was already a fair distance away and moving steadily further.
“Where’s he going?” she asked Lord Stobert. “You have a man on the road headed away from here.” She rested her hand on her knife hilt. She wasn’t sure how far she’d be able to track the old steel, but for now she could still sense him.
“Who? Oh.” Lord Stobert said. “Kersey. He’s gone ahead to Silverdale.” He smiled. “We need to make arrangements to hide you two.”
“Why didn’t you mention that earlier?” Kane asked. “You’ve just had to rescue us. The fewer people who know where we are the safer we’ll be.”
“But you are safe,” Stobert said. “You’re in Fallad now. I didn’t think I needed to consult you.”
Brenna looked from him back to Kane, and frowned. Bad enough that Kane made decisions for her, now she had some stranger doing so as well. She didn’t like it, Brotherhood or not. Not after almost getting killed tonight.
“Lord Stobert,” Brenna said. “Any decision that concerns me will not be made without me. Do you understand?” Her hand still rested on her knife hilt and she reached through the old steel to him. Was that a flicker of … dislike? resentment?
“Yes, of course,” Lord Stobert said. “I was only trying to keep you safe. Please forgive me.”
“Certainly,” Brenna said. She’d felt … something, in the old steel but it was gone now. She was exhausted. Had she really felt his emotions? It was frustrating to have abilities and not understand them. She wished someone could teach her, the way Feiren and Kane had taught her how to use a knife as a weapon.
“Lord Stobert,” Brenna said. “How was it your men happened to be on the Comack side of the border? I’d be interested to find out exactly how that happened.”
Lord Westley Stobert liked to talk, of that Kane was absolutely certain. It took him the whole meal to tell his tale. Lord Stobert and his men had received a message from Dasid and were on the lookout for Kane and Brenna. They’d been near the border when their old steel weapons started to glow. One of the men had been at the meet at Uncle Feiren’s and had recognized it as a talent of the Caller. Then they’d all gotten very lucky. Stobert’s men had spotted the light from Kane and Brenna’s weapons.
Once Kane and Brenna had been rescued, Stobert had let Barton and the other guard go. He said he didn’t dare detain them, not while in Comack - their gear and horses had been confiscated for safekeeping, though.
“I’ll have to send it all back across the border tomorrow,” Stobert said. “Duke Thorold has some power in Fallad. He winters some of his prized horses not far from here and pays a good price for the best feed. It means he’ll know where you are.”
“He already knew,” Kane said. “Barton was sent. Besides, knowing where we were isn’t the same as knowing where we are going. If you could delay the return of the gear for a day, or even half a day, that could help us.” He looked over at Brenna. Her eyes were half closed with fatigue. “We could use a rest.”
“I think I can manage that,” Stobert said and smiled. “I’ll send it back at dusk tomorrow. Duke Thorold won’t like it but he’s not going to be happy anyway.”
“Thank you, Lord Stobert,” Kane said. “Now, Brenna needs to rest. Let me get her settled and then I’ll be back. Come on Brenna.” He helped her to her feet and steered her towards the door. “Time to sleep.”
One of Lord Stobert’s men stood outside their door. Good. Once he left Brenna she’d be safe. The guard nodded and stepped back while Kane pushed open the door to the room and helped Brenna inside.
The room stank. He wrinkled his nose and led Brenna to the bed. As he lowered her down onto the bed her hair brushed his face. Brenna smelled too.
“What is that?” he asked. But Brenna w
as already stretched out on the bed, one arm bent and a fist tucked under her chin. Kane removed her boots and pulled the blanket up over her. Sleep was the best thing for her. She’d had a rough couple of days on the road. They both had.
The old steel mortar and pestle sat on the table by the door, the green mass inside it cracked and dried. Kane sniffed it - definitely the source of the smell. He nudged the side of the mortar with one finger. He’d better leave it alone. He used an old steel weapon, but this was different - older and not related to the Brotherhood. Besides, there was no telling what Brenna had put in it. He leaned over the bed and opened the shutter on the small window. He’d need fresh air if he if wanted to get some sleep later. Brenna was fast asleep when he left.
“Captain,” Stobert said when Kane returned. “I’ve poured you a brandy.”
“You should call me Kane,” he said. He took the glass from Lord Stobert’s outstretched. “I’m not Captain of the Kingsguard any more.”
“That explains why Thorold would dare to send men after you,” Stobert said. “Who will be named captain after you?”
“My uncle has resumed the captaincy until a replacement is appointed,” Kane said and sipped at his brandy. “Duke Thorold will have a man named to the post soon, I expect.”
“It would not be good for this part of the country if Thorold were to control the Kingsguard.”
“It would not be good for any part of the country,” Kane said. “But the prophesy is now in motion. The Call has been spoken.”
“By that slip of a girl,” Stobert said.
“Do not underestimate ‘that slip of a girl’,” Kane said. Stobert would come around, Kane was sure. The man was dedicated to the Brotherhood. “I heard the Call, and I’ve seen how old steel responds to her.”
“With light.”
“Yes, with light,” Kane nodded. “But that’s not all. She can recognize people by their old steel, as she showed tonight. She knew that your man was on the road.”
“Yes, she did,” Stobert said. “So she can tell where men are by the old steel they carry? That could be useful.” Stobert paused slightly before he continued. “I hear she’s a thief.”
“Yes,” Kane said. “Quite a good one.”
“Not exactly what we’d expected from the prophesy,” Lord Stobert said. “Your uncle has declared her the true heir?”
“My uncle has no doubts about Brenna,” Kane said. “Neither do I.” If Lord Stobert had attended the meet at his uncle’s house it would have given him some time to get used to Brenna as heir. Kane finished his brandy and set the glass on the table. “You’ll be able to judge Brenna yourself in the next few days,” Kane said. “I have no doubt she’ll prove herself to you. Good night, Lord Stobert.” He then left to get some sleep.
Brenna lifted her head off the pillow and groaned. Her neck was stiff and sore.
Despite not having ridden before she’d been so sure she’d be able to keep up with Kane on this journey. After all, she’d spent years climbing onto roof tops and squeezing into tight spots and she’d just been through all that training with Feiren and Kane. Now she felt as though she’d been trampled by a dozen horses.
She let her head drop back onto the bed. She didn’t want to move, not yet. She craned her neck to see if Kane was still sleeping but he wasn’t there. A steaming pot sat on the table by her head, one chipped white cup beside it. Was that tea? Had Kane left it for her? How late was it, anyway? She didn’t really remember coming to bed last night. Just a few disjointed memories of Kane leading her through the door. After that, nothing.
Startled, she sat up. With a grunt of pain swung her legs over the side of the bed. She’d let Kane take complete control, which made her feel uncomfortable. Even worse, now she remembered that he’d gone back to talk to Lord Stobert. She’d been alone and exhausted with Stobert’s guard outside of the room. What if he’d meant her harm? She remembered her vague uneasiness when she’d seen the guard last night. Was he there to keep her safe or keep her in? Kane obviously thought it was the former. She wasn’t so sure. She was sure she wouldn’t leave herself vulnerable again, no matter what Kane thought.
She lifted the lid on the pot - it was tea. She poured a mug and shuffled over to sit in the chair by the window. She tugged the curtains aside. From where the sun was in the sky it was close to mid-morning. In the courtyard a kitchen maid had almost finished cleaning up after the morning trade. It would be a cold breakfast then, but at least there was no sign that Kane expected them to ride today.
Brenna finished her tea and limped over to the washbasin. Her legs were stiff after sitting for just a few moments. A splash of cold water on her face revived her a little and she peered into the mirror. Brothers, but she looked a wreck. The skin was dark purple where she’d been hit, and her lip was still swollen.
She picked up the mortar and looked at the paste that caked it. She’d meant to clean it out last night. She added a little water and mixed it until it was a smooth paste again. Maybe being in contact with old steel all night would make the paste work faster. Old steel was magic, right? Brenna plastered her face with the paste. It was dry by the time she’d cleaned the mortar and pestle.
With a second cup of tea in hand, she moved back to the window. The paste soothed the hot, tight skin around her eye. Once the paste was dry enough, she flaked it off and rinsed her face. Now to find something to eat.
Brenna stepped out of the kitchen into the courtyard, a cold bun with cheese in one hand. She hadn’t seen any of Stobert’s guards, which was a relief. They were members of the Brotherhood, but they were Lord Stobert’s men through and through - she wasn’t sure they would ever be loyal to her, no matter what Kane thought.
This late in the morning the common room had been empty. A kitchen maid told her Kane had been around earlier, so Brenna had relaxed and grabbed something to eat. Now she needed a walk to try to loosen up her stiff muscles.
She licked the crumbs off her fingers and wandered over to the stable to look in on Blaze. Brenna was grateful that the poor horse had managed that wild ride without throwing her – it had allowed Lord Stobert and his men to reach her and Kane in time.
Blaze was in a stall at the back of the stables. Runner poked his head out of the stall beside her and she rubbed his nose before she unlatched the door to Blaze’s stall. Blaze snorted and snuffled at her hand.
“Hey there,” Brenna said. “You seem to be recovering. Let’s see if there’s any damage.” She ran her hands over the horse’s shoulder and down one front leg. It had been years since she’d had a horse as a patient but her hands remembered what to feel for. Blaze didn’t flinch when she touched her, which was a good sign. She worked her way around the horse, gently checking each leg and hoof. When she finished with the right front hoof, Blaze nuzzled her neck.
“All right.” She laughed. “I’m done now, don’t be so pushy.” She straightened up and the horse nudged her hand. “Sorry Blaze, I don’t have any treats with me.”
“Here, give her this.”
She looked up to see Kane at the stall door. He held up a piece of apple and she grabbed it.
She held her hand out, the apple on her flat palm. Blaze’s breath tickled her palm as the horse gently lipped at the piece of fruit. A soft snort and then the apple was gone.
“There you go,” Brenna said. She stroked the white patch on Blaze’s nose as the horse crunched the fruit. Then the velvety nose nudged her hand again.
“That’s all I have. You’ll have to ask Kane.” Brenna looked at him and he shook his head. “We’ll get you more later. You deserve it.” With one final pat, she left the stall.
She matched her strides to Kane’s as they wandered out of the barn and away from the inn.
“I take it we aren’t riding today?” she asked.
“No. I thought we could use the time to recover. How are you feeling?”
“I’m still a bit stiff, and I’ll have bruises for a while yet. But it’s
mostly just aches and pains.”
He reached out a hand to touch her bruised face. She stopped and turned to him and her breath caught in her chest.
“And this?” he asked.
His fingers traced the bruise and she felt her face grow warm, her eyes locked on his. Then his hand dropped to his side and he looked away.
“It looks much worse than it is,” she said, flustered. “I put a poultice on it and the swelling is almost gone. A few days and the bruising will fade as well.”
“Yes, I smelled the poultice,” he said. “I had to open the window in the room.”
Brenna laughed. “It is rather pungent.”
“It wasn’t just the room that smelled,” he said.
“I could have made a poultice that smelled worse.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “I still could.”
“Please, no,” Kane laughed. “I promise to supply you with more apples for Blaze.”
“Since it’s for Blaze, I won’t make the other poultice.”
They started back to the inn but after a few steps Kane slowed and turned to her.
“We need to talk to Lord Stobert about meeting with Duke Ewart,” Kane said, his voice serious. “I could find Ewart myself but Lord Stobert will be able to do it more quietly. I don’t want Thorold to know about this meeting. I’m going to ask Duke Ewart to go to Kingsreach. Someone on the king’s council has to challenge Thorold.”
“Should I come?” Suddenly Brenna was nervous. Duke Ewart wasn’t in the Brotherhood. He might look at her as a servant - as the bastard daughter of a servant. Brenna didn’t want anyone to look at her that way again. In Thieves’ Quarter she’d been respected as a healer and a thief and since the Brotherhood had come into her life she’d been the heir to their prophecy. She liked being respected and listened to. And Duke Ewart was her father’s cousin, though she doubted he knew it.
“You should meet him,” Kane said. “He won’t understand your position but you’ll be able to get a sense of the man.”
“I don’t trust Stobert,” Brenna said. “Or his men.”
“He’ll come around,” Kane said “He’s Brotherhood. He did rescue us.”
“Yes,” Brenna said. “But I don’t trust him.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re the heir to the prophecy. He’ll rely on that in the end.”
But she did worry about it. She’d felt something in the old steel. She just wished she understood what it was.
In early afternoon, Kane rode off with Lord Stobert and his men. They were going to check the border to see if Barton had crossed into Fallad. One of Stobert’s men would also deliver the horses and gear they’d captured to Thorold’s nearest minor lord.
She was under Lord Stobert’s protection so she’d be safe at the inn, but before he’d left, Kane had asked her to try not to attract