Queen (Brotherhood of the Throne) (25 page)

He heard Eryl grunt then the room
went dark.

“You’re about as much fun as my
grandmother,” Eryl grumbled. “Now’s the time I normally get out of bed, not
into it. No ale, no night life, you’re going to ruin my reputation.”

“As long as you’re alive to have a
reputation I’ll shoulder that blame gladly,” Kane said. Despite his complaints,
Eryls’ snores soon filled the small room and Kane was left to stare at the dark
ceiling and worry about Brenna.

Brenna looked down on the small
village. Actually, village was too grand a title for the four rough houses and
stable that clustered at the edge of the cove. A pier jutted out into the water
and she breathed deeply, the salty tang of the sea filling her senses. Dasid
had gone down to the village, leaving the rest of them huddled on a rocky
outcropping to the side of the trail. He would come back and get them if all
was well but if they didn’t hear from him, well, they were to turn and leave.

Brenna sighed. She didn’t have
enough of Neemah’s tea or libo nuts to make it back through the mountains. For
her at least, her journey must continue onward.

“Have you heard from Dasid yet?”
Pater asked, stepping up to her side.

She looked over at him, shading her
eyes with her hand. 

“No.” In truth she hadn’t even
tried to reach him through old steel. She just didn’t trust herself. Other than
the one contact with Kane she’d shut her powers down as completely as she had
on the trip through the mountains. Right now she was the same as everyone else
and she planned to keep it that way. At least that way she wouldn’t hurt
anyone.

“The gods gave ye a gift, Brenna,”
Pater said and she had to look away from the disappointment in his eyes. “To
ignore that is an insult to them.”

“A gift,” she said. “What kind of
gift lets me kill a man simply for helping me?”

“The kind that also lets ye save
hundreds. Dasid told me about the fire - that Kane said they saved most of the
Quarter and lost no lives, thanks to one of yer visions. And what about when ye
saved the Duchess and her man? If ye’d not had yer gifts they would’ve died at
the hands of the High Bishop.” Pater looked back over his shoulder. “And then
there’s me’n this wagon train. I know I was done fer when ye pulled me from the
line. By using yer gift. It’s an insult to me and everyone ye saved for ye to
see only bad in yer gift. And none of us want ye to stop now. It might be our
relative or friend ye could save next but didn’t cause ye can’t take the bad
with the good.” Pater shook his head and walked away, leaving Brenna to stare
out at the sea.

He didn’t understand, she thought.
Mistakes that she made with her powers brought so much more pain than other
mistakes. And it made her feel evil, like Duke Thorold.

The villagers were friendly, Dasid
said when he returned, and the ship was due in two days. The men pretending to
be prisoners would be housed in the stable with the horses - Dasid and Wils would
guard them. The rest would camp close by. Dasid asked everyone to be careful
around the villagers. They were still in Comack, after all, and he didn’t want
anyone to feel the need to report them to Thorold’s militia. The less Duke
Thorold knew they safer they’d all be.

Beldyn’s face paled and Thorold smiled and leaned back in his chair. He’d sent the boy to visit the High Bishop
twice, reminding Valden that marks or permanent damage would not be tolerated.
There had been no more outbursts from Beldyn since. Even now, when he must know
what this meant, he held his tongue.

“You’ll be happy to see your
brother Liam again, I’m sure,” Thorold said, toying with some scrolls on his
desk. “He’s always been such a dutiful son.”

“He’s very young,” Beldyn said. “He
was just ten last year.”

Despite the fact that he was king,
Thorold had not given his son permission to sit and Beldyn stood in front of
his desk.

“He’s old enough to be named your
heir,” Thorold said, promising himself that he
would not
make the same
mistakes with his youngest son. “After all, no one would expect a young healthy
king to die anytime soon. Liam should have plenty of time to grow into a man.”
He smiled when Beldyn closed his eyes briefly then squared his shoulders.

“Yes, I am in excellent health and
if the circumstances are right I should expect to live a long life.”

“Indeed. If the circumstances are
right.” Thorold turned to Fridrick. “See to it that the ceremony is held in the
square in front to the church of the One-God. I want all of Kingsreach to know
that this choice of heir is blessed not only by the king but by the One-God as
well. Kingsreach will bear witness when King Beldyn ensures the continuity of
the throne and names Liam his heir. I want this to be the most lavish such
ceremony in Kingsreach history.”

“Yes, my Lord Duke. I will look at
the old records to see what has been done in the past.” Fridrick bowed low and
backed toward the door. “This ceremony will outdo them all.”

“Good,” Thorold said. “I’m
expecting neither Aruntun nor Fallad to attend so make whatever changes to the
ceremony you need to conceal their absence.”

Once Fridrick scuttled out the
door, nodding and bowing, Thorold turned back to his son.

“That’s the type of behavior I
expect from those in my household,” Thorold said to Beldyn. “I suggest you take
note. It would go a long way to making sure the circumstances are right for a
long life for you. Now be off.” He waved his hand to dismiss his son. “You have
eight days until the ceremony. I suggest you contemplate this discussion until
then.” Thorold bent his head over a sheaf of paper, noting with satisfaction how
quietly Beldyn left the room.

Once Liam was named heir to the
throne he had no more need for Beldyn. He’d worked so hard and planned so
carefully to gain control of Soule that he wouldn’t let anyone - not even his
son - get in the way. But he saw his great mistake now. All those years when
he’d needed to be close to Mattias he’d let his influence over Beldyn weaken. But
he had another chance with another son. Liam he would keep close, Liam he would
shower with attention, and Liam’s education and friends would be managed by him.
And Liam would be kept away from Beldyn. He could not risk the power Beldyn
might have over his younger brother. After all, they’d had ten years together,
for the most part outside of his own influence. He would not allow the older
son to poison the younger one.

Thorold picked up another scroll
and scanned it before he quickly crumpled it. King Mannel’s latest missive. He
neither committed to, nor refused, Thorold’s request. Without him Fallad would
be lost. Damn that witch and her influence over Duke Ewart.

If he was forced to dispose of
Beldyn he lost the opportunity to tie Mannel to him through his daughter.
Princess Evlan was sixteen and not likely to wait for Liam to grow up. Not
unless her father commanded it and that seemed unlikely. Thorold’s lip curled
up in disgust. By all accounts King Mannel doted on his daughter and would
never force her do anything she didn’t want. Even the current negotiations
depended on her favorable reaction to Beldyn.

Sighing, Thorold reached for the
next sheet of correspondence. He’d find a solution, he always did. But for now,
he’d have Liam named heir.  

fourteen

 Brenna watched as the ship was
unloaded. The crates were transferred to small dinghy’s that were then rowed
ashore by men with skin tanned a deep mahogany. Despite the chill in the air
the sailors were barefoot. She sighed as the figures clambered up and down the
rigging. Once the ship was underway those men would still be nimble while she
would be pitching to the deck every few steps. Between the mountains and the ship
this was the worst type of journey she could ever make.

She rose and dusted the sand off
her breeches and headed over to Dasid. “Looks like we’ve a fair wind for the
start,” she said, shading her eyes against the sun. They had only a few more
hours to get everything unloaded and get themselves onboard before the tide
went back out.

“Is it good luck or good planning?”
Dasid asked.

“Luck,” she said and abruptly
turned away, heading down towards the water.

She still hadn’t used her magic, at
least not on purpose. Although when she’d set the broken leg of one of the
villagers she’d muttered a strengthening spell before she realized it. She’d then
spent half the night despairing over ever being able to control her power. If she
returned to Aruntun perhaps Mistress Utley could teach her some ways to manage
or even get rid of her abilities but until then she wanted to minimize her use
of them. But she knew there would be a time when she’d need to use her power
again. She knew it and was afraid.

Soon the supplies for the village
were unloaded and their party was rowed aboard. The horses and wagon remained
in the village, along with a few of Dasid’s men. They would take them back over
the mountain pass, hopefully evading Duke Thorold’s militia. Dasid assured her
that the three men were his most seasoned woodsmen and that all of them had
preferred their chances on the mountains rather than taking to the sea. Brenna
could understand not wanting to sail, at least.

Brenna struggled to stay on her
feet as she made her way to the hold with the others. She gratefully sank to
the deck of the hold, content to let Dasid and Wils supervise the boarding of
the rest of the men and women.

“Well lass, it’s not much of a sendoff
fer a queen visiting a king.” Pater sat down beside her and leaned his back
against a crate.

“Less likely to raise any
questions,” Brenna replied. She’d been trying not to think about her meeting
with Mannel but she’d have nothing else to do for the six days that it would
take to get to Whitehaven.

“Dasid is going to talk to the
captain soon as we set sail. Seems to think the man’s an honest one and don’t
like transporting slaves at all.”

“That’s good,” Brenna said. “It
would mean no one has to stay in the hold.”

“Yep. Not that you’re like to
venture about much.” Brenna looked up at Pater to see him grinning at her. “I
hear from Dasid that ye don’t get along too well on a ship.”

“I wish he hadn’t said anything,”
Brenna said. Pater chuckled and she bristled. “It’s not funny.” Her face flushed
and she remembered the humiliation she’d felt on the Sea Sprite when she’d
fallen flat on her face day after day.

“No, I don’t suppose it is to you.
But he got a perfect right to tell,” Pater said. “He’s in charge and you’re his
responsibility. Anything that might make you less capable, well, he needs to
know. He told me ‘cause he wants me to keep an eye on ye, that’s all.”

“I don’t need someone looking after
me.” How dare Dasid ask Pater to watch her as though she was a child?

“Ye do, lass. The last few days ye
been in a mood. Now there’s no use denying it,” he said when she opened her
mouth to protest. “We all seen it and Dasid, like I said, he’s in charge. But
without you this mission will fail and all our efforts to get ye to Langemore
will be fer naught.”

“If he’s so worried then why hasn’t
he talked to me?”

“Told me he’d tried to talk to ye
about it and ye got mad like it weren’t his business and walked away.”

“Well, he didn’t try very hard
then,” she said. She ducked her head in shame. Dasid
had
approached her
a few times and she hadn’t been willing to listen.

“No, but I s’pose he thought it
better to live and try again later.” Pater gave her a long look. “Not the best
idea, making a powerful witch mad at ye.”

“But I wouldn’t hurt him,” she
said, and then her shoulders slumped. But she
had
hurt Gaskain. She’d killed
him and she hadn’t even noticed.

“I know that,” Pater said. “But
still, ye hafta agree, making the most powerful witch ever known angry isn’t
the best idea.”

And Brenna did agree. Even her
friends were afraid of her, and with good cause.

“Brenna, I know ye’re still upset
about Gaskain but ye have to get past it.”

“How can I? I used him up and
killed him with no more thought than if he was a fly.”

“Did ye like Gaskain?” Pater asked
and she nodded. “Aye, Dasid says he was a fine man and Wils, he and Gaskain
practically grew up together in Duke Ewart’s militia.” Pater looked directly
into her eyes. “And I’m tellin’ ye that the most disrespectful thing ye can do
to the man is make him yer excuse for not seein’ this through. He believed in
ye Brenna, and he died trying to help ye. Don’t dishonor him by doing less than
ye’re able to, or not using all the skills and talents the gods saw fit to give
ye.”

Brenna watched Pater walk away, her
teeth clenched in anger. How dare he? He had no idea what she’d done, what
she’d become. She had Thorold’s blood and was true to the line. Her tears
caught her by surprise, angry as she was. But once she started she couldn’t
stop and she sobbed quietly as she sat alone in the hold. She hadn’t asked for
any of this, not once. All she’d ever wanted was to be able to live her life as
she saw fit. Now she was constantly being forced to do things she didn’t want
to do. Like kill a friend.

But the last thing she’d wanted was
to insult Gaskain’s memory, and Pater was right, she had. After such a
sacrifice he deserved better from her. Wiping her tears away, Brenna made
herself two promises. First, she would not let Gaskain’s death cripple her and
keep her from using magic and second, she would never, ever kill a friend
again. Not even to save herself. She would not pay that high a price again.

The ship they sailed on was named
the Swiftsure and when Brenna finally lurched her way to the deck, she was
introduced to Captain Filbee and his first mate Telfer. Pater noticed her weaving
across the deck and grabbed her, otherwise she would have landed at the good
captain’s bare feet.

“Brenna,” Dasid said when she
joined him and the captain. “Captain Filbee has expressed his relief that there
are no actual slaves.”

“Aye, I didn’t like takin’ them
afore but I thought they’d just be left in that ramshackle village by them
other guards,” the captain said, scanning the horizon. “Couldn’t let that
happen, being that they were such a sorry lot already.”

“So what happened to them?” Brenna
asked. She lost her balance and stumbled into Pater, who grunted as her weight
hit him.

“I sent ‘em to a friend in
Whitehaven,” Filbee said, his eyes on her as she tried to stay upright. “He’ll
have found them work by now I suppose. Are you all right Mistress? You’re not
going to be seasick the whole trip are you?”

“No, I’m not so lucky as that,”
Brenna said. “I’m a healer. Seasickness I can fix. I can’t seem to stay on my
feet. I’ve been on one other sea journey and I never got used to the motion.”

“Never got your sea legs, hmm?”
Filbee looked her up and down. “Didn’t happen to ship with Captain Chaffer did
you?” he asked and Brenna groaned.

“Don’t tell me I’m the laughing
stock of the whole coastline,” she said. She grabbed onto Pater again as her
feet threatened to slide out from under her. “Bad enough Rian Chaffer and his
whole crew knew, please don’t tell me I’m an amusing story told in pubs from
here to Smithin.” Brenna felt her face redden with humiliation.

“Not in that way,” Filbee said
quietly and she looked up to see him nod to her. “Captain Chaffer said to look
out for you is all. Said there’s a healer with no sea legs but that she’s
precious cargo, the most precious there is. He said to take you wherever you
want to go and give whatever help you need.”

“Oh, well, that was kind of him,”
Brenna said.

“Not kind at all, really,” Filbee
said. “Sea faring folk, we stick together. We usually let you that live on the
land worry about who rules which piece of rock but we know that bad politics on
land make for bad business at sea. Chaffer says you’re the one to straighten
things out.”

Brenna looked up at Dasid, who
nodded at her. She sighed. That’s as clear as it could get, she supposed. She
was the one who was to straighten things out.

“I guess that’s true enough,” she
said. She was aware that both Pater and Dasid relaxed at her words. Brenna took
a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Brenna quickly settled into a
routine aboard the Swiftsure. She spent the short days on deck, trying to soak
up as much of the weak, fall sun as possible. Two full nights were spent
communicating with Kane and others of the Brotherhood.

She finally told Kane about
Gaskain. She felt his sorrow through the old steel but he’d echoed Dasid and
Pater - Gaskain had been a Brother and sworn to help her and he would have been
proud that he had, despite the cost to him. It didn’t ease her heart much, but at
least Kane didn’t blame her for his death.

Kane and Eryl had been staying in
one of the old hiding places Brenna had insisted they keep and she was grateful
to her cautious, younger self. The place she’d chosen so many years ago now was
now a safe haven for Kane. Eryl was venturing out at night but Kane was staying
put. Thorold’s troops were looking for him and he didn’t have the thief skills
Eryl had.

Brenna had only ever been able to
contact Marcus Brunger through old steel with Kane at her side, boosting her
power, but Eryl had been able to get word to him through his network. The Guild
Master would leave food and water in a safe place for Eryl to pick up. He also promised
to forward any messages he received to Kane in the same way. Without Gaskain for
Brenna to contact, word from Silverdale was hard to get. Unfortunately written
messages were over a week old by the time they reached the Guild Master’s hands,
but it was the best they could do.

Brenna’s conversations with Yowan
and Madelay were soothing. Her grandparents both agreed that Gaskain’s death
was a tragedy but that she owed it to him to succeed and use all her talents.
On the second night Avery joined them, relaying through Yowan that all good
leaders had doubts about abusing those who were pledged to them and that Avery
would be suspect of one who did not.

Brenna’s deepest fears were finally
laid to rest by a comment from the Duchess of Aruntun. She said that Brenna’s
struggle with Gaskain’s death only proved how unlike Thorold she was. Avery was
certain that Duke Thorold had never lost sleep over his abuse of one of his men,
just as she was sure his only regret in handing Neal to the High Bishop was
that he had escaped and still lived.

As the third day at sea dawned,
Brenna woke refreshed and content. The rolling of the ship was less pronounced than
usual and she made her way up to the deck without one fall, a minor miracle in
her view. Once she was steadily clutching the railing, she looked out across
the calm sea and smiled as the sun edged up on the horizon into view.

“I haven’t seen one of those on yer
face in a good long time lass,” Pater said as he handed her a steaming mug of
tea.

“It’s been a long time since I felt
like smiling,” she replied. She took the mug from him. “Thanks for the tea.
Between you and Wils I’ve barely set foot in the galley.” The two men had taken
pity on her and had brought every meal to her rather than watch her struggle to
navigate the deck.

“Glad to help, Brenna. The Quarter
takes care if it’s own.”

“But we’re a long way from Thieves
Quarter,” Brenna said.

“Oh, I dunno about that. To me it’s
here.” He touched his head. “And here.” Pater’s hand rested on his heart. “That
don’t seem too far away to me.”

“No, not when you put it that way.”
Brenna smiled.

“All right. Now this weren’t just a
social call. When yer finished yer tea Dasid and Captain Filbee want to see ye
fer breakfast,” Pater said and turned and left.  She watched him head to the
cabin area and duck through the doorway and down the stairs, no doubt in search
of his own breakfast.

“Brothers,” Brenna rubbed her elbow
where she’d slid into the wall. Why couldn’t she just get used to the rolling
movement, why did walking from the deck to the captain’s cabin mean she would
be covered in bruises? She knocked on the door in front of her and half fell
through it when it was opened.

“Sorry,” she said to Dasid. He steadied
her and helped her over to a chair. She sat down, nodding to Captain Filbee
while Dasid closed the door and returned to his own seat.