Queen (Brotherhood of the Throne) (4 page)

“Brenna?” Dasid calmly
positioned himself off her left shoulder where he wouldn’t interfere with her
right-hand and knife. She nodded once, keeping her eyes on Symes.

“Time to sit back down,
gentlemen,” Brenna said, gesturing to the table with her knife. “Barkeep, get
these men another ale.”

Symes looked from her to
Dasid and back. Finally, he scowled and stepped back to the table.

“Not you,” Brenna said as
the barmaid, Neemah, went to pick up the mugs. “The barkeep will serve this
time.” She ignored the black look the man sent her and stepped back beside
Dasid.

Brenna relaxed slightly as
the barkeep delivered the mugs to the four men, who continued to sit and watch
her, their faces red with anger.

“Neemah?” Brenna slipped
her knife away and walked over to the serving woman. “I want you to come with
us when we leave. Pack up anything you really care about. You’ll never have to
come back here, I promise”

“What about my job? I need
this to fend for my boy and me.”

Brenna met her sad, gray
eyes. Neemah wasn’t as old as she’d first thought. In truth, she couldn’t be
more than a few years older than Brenna herself, though the lines and sorrow
that etched her face aged her ten years or more.

“Not many places will let
an unmarried woman and her bastard son work for them,” Neemah said quietly.

“I’ll find you a better
position,” Brenna replied. When she saw the doubt in the woman’s face, she
touched her hand gently. “Trust me. I spoke the truth when I said my own mother
had been called witch and whore all her life. You see, I’m bastard born too. I
will not let anyone hold that against you or your son.” Brenna held the other
woman’s gaze for a moment then finally, Neemah nodded.

“Can’t be many places
worse than here. I’ll get my boy.”

“First I need to retrieve
what’s mine. That’s what I originally came here for.” Brenna turned to Dasid.
“My pack got pinched.” She narrowed her eyes when she saw his lips twitch. “You
can have a big laugh after I recover the old steel.” 

That stopped him. Dasid’s
eyebrows went up and he mouthed the words the
coronet
. She nodded and he
stood a little straighter.

“All right Neemah. What’s
mine is back this way. Why don’t you come with me and we can find your son and pick
up your things along the way. Dasid will keep an eye on our friends.”

Brenna headed to the
kitchen door. A woman scurried away from it as she went through it, Neemah
following. She stopped a few steps inside the kitchen - a small boy looked up
at her with Neemah’s gray eyes. Brenna smiled at him.

“I have a feeling you were
at the library this morning,” she said. Her smile widened when his eyes
saucered. He backed away from her. “I’m not going to hurt you - I just want
what’s mine. What’s your name?”

“Ronan, do you have
something that belongs to this lady?”

Ronan ducked his head and
mumbled a response at his mother’s question.

“How many times have I told
you not to steal? I’m so very sorry.” Neemah turned her distressed face to
Brenna. “He just doesn’t listen to me and with having to work so much, I can’t
keep a close eye on him.”

“Don’t worry. My pack was
left unattended. I’m sure he thought it had been lost or forgotten,” Brenna
said. “Now get your belongings and I’ll find my pack.” She looked at Ronan. “I
know just where it is, too.” The old steel was towards the back of the kitchen.
Brenna headed there, Ronan trailing her like a puppy. She stopped in front of
the cold storage room and dropped to the floor. One of the wooden slats on the
wall was loose one - she then reached in and pulled her pack out.

“I told you I could find
it,” Brenna stood up and she slung her pack over her shoulder. She grinned down
at the boy, who looked up her in awe. “I’m sure this isn’t your only hiding
spot - go get anything you want to keep - you and your mother are coming with
me.”

Ronan knelt down and pulled
a few of his treasures out from behind the loose slat - a tattered goose
feather, a fork that was missing all but one tine, a small roll of string.
Neemah came back into the kitchen with a small bundle - he handed her his
treasures before scurrying out the back door.

“I told him to get his
things from his hiding spots,” Brenna said as she led the way back to the
tavern room. “I’m sure it won’t take long. I doubt anything is very far away.
How old is Ronan?”

“He’ll be eight next
spring. And a handful too.” Neemah paused and lowered her voice as they got
closer to Dasid, who was still watching the tavern patrons. “Are you sure we’ll
be welcome with you?”

“Of course you will. We’ll
just wait behind Dasid while we wait for Ronan. Ah, see there he is.”

Ronan flew into the room
and then skidded to a stop when he saw Dasid wielding his unsheathed sword.

“Come along Ronan,” Brenna
said.

The boy warily edged
around Dasid. When she could reach it, Brenna took the small bundle from him
and passed it to his mother.

Brenna left the tavern
first with Neemah and her son close behind her. A moment later Dasid joined them
in the street, his sword now sheathed.

“Dasid Addems this is
Neemah and her son Ronan.”

Dasid greeted Neemah
politely and then he solemnly clasped hands with the boy. He took Neemah’s
bundle from her and they headed off down the street, Neemah holding tight to
her son.

“You are giving them some
warning I hope?” Dasid drawled.

Brenna sighed. “Yes. You’ll
tell Kane everything anyway so I might as well do it now.”

“You won’t get in trouble
from this Kane person because of us, will you?” Neemah’s pinched face looked
worried but before Brenna could answer, Dasid laughed.

“Don’t worry - you and
your son will be more than welcome. Brenna just doesn’t want to tell Kane she
had her pack stolen by a boy.”

“But she said her pack was
left unattended?” Neemah looked down at her son. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“Oh, I think the best
thief in Kingsreach knows when she’s been stolen from.” Dasid said.

“I didn’t want you to
worry about coming with us.” She glared at Dasid who at least had the decency
to look ashamed. “I didn’t want you to think we wanted to punish him.”

“Are you really the best
thief in Kingsreach?” Ronan looked up at her with awe.

“So I’ve been called.”

“And are you really
bastard born like me?”

Brenna smiled sadly at the
shy look on his face. It was a hard thing for a child to be ashamed of
something he had no control over.

“You heard that, did you?”

Ronan nodded shyly.

“Yes, I really am bastard
born. The world doesn’t treat us very well, does it?”

“Nor our mothers,” Ronan whispered.

“Nor our mothers,” Brenna
agreed, thinking of how her own mother had been forced into Duke Thorold’s bed
and then killed by him. “We need to look out for each other, don’t you think?”
Brenna met Neemah’s solemn gaze and nodded when she felt a small hand steal
into her own.

Kane shook his head. Brenna
turned even a simple visit to the library into an incident. He wouldn’t be so
calm about it if both Brenna and Dasid hadn’t claimed she’d never really been
in danger. Brenna’s skills with a knife were up to handling four untrained
drunks and she’d also used magic -
and
she’d called Dasid for help. It showed
that she was willing to use all of her talents, if she needed to. Kane counted
that as progress. A few months ago she would have dealt with this on her own –
she might have used magic, but she would
never
have called for help.
Kane chuckled. She certainly hadn’t wanted to tell him what took her to the
tavern originally.

“You better not be
laughing at what I think you’re laughing at,” Brenna said. She glared at him from
where she sat across the room and he shrugged.

“Do you read minds now?”
Kane asked, trying to sound innocent.

She frowned at him and he
had to look away to hide his smile. He met the serious, gray eyes of their new,
young guest and he winked at the boy, his smile widening when the boy looked
from him to Brenna and back to him.

“I’m still the best thief
Kingsreach ever saw,” Brenna said.

“But obviously not the
best thief Silverdale ever saw or young Master Ronan here wouldn’t have been
able to steal your pack,” Kane said. “What do you say Ronan, how did you get
the best of Brenna?”

Ronan looked nervously
across at his mother, Neemah. She sat stiffly on a couch beside Dasid looking
overwhelmed by her surroundings.

“Well, Master Kane, I was
in the library when I see’s her head, Mistress Brenna’s I mean, peeking in the
window all quiet like,” Ronan said. “Well, I knew no honest person comes to the
library through the window. So when she tossed her pack in I grabbed it and ran.
I figured there’d be no call for the law since she weren’t there on honest
business.”

“You can’t fault the boy’s
logic on that one,” Duke Ewart drawled from the doorway.

Kane wasn’t sure how long Ewart
had been standing there but he’d obviously heard at least some of the story.

“Cousin, you stay out of
this,” Brenna said. “Remember, I do much of the cooking around here.”

“Ah.” Ewart held his hands
up. “I heard what happened in Blackwall when you cooked. You’ll hear no more
from me.”

“I know who you are,”
Ronan said, sidling up beside Kane.

Kane shook his head. It
seemed the boy had decided he was on his side.

“You’re the duke. I saw
you. There was a procession and the militiamen were all dressed in dark green
with their swords all shiny. I saw it from the roof of the library when I was
little.”

Kane smiled. The boy was
only seven now, he’d been told. Ewart had become duke two years ago.

“Duke Ewart of Fallad, at
your service.” Ewart crossed the room and bowed low to the boy. “And who might
you be?”

“I’m Ronan. Ronan Linney
and that’s my ma, sitting over there.” Ronan pointed to his mother, who seemed
to shrink into the sofa.

“Mistress Linney I welcome
you and your son to my home.” Ewart bowed to Ronan’s mother and smiled at her
until she shyly returned his smile. “Brenna, have you found a room for our
guests yet? I suggest you put Mistress Linney and her son in the room across
from you. I think I have a cot somewhere that will do for the lad.”

“Oh please, my Lord.” There
was a tremor in Neemah’s voice when she spoke. “Ronan and I can share a bed,
like we’ve done since he was born. And please, a servant’s room will be fine.
Mistress Brenna said she’d find a position for me.

“And so she shall.”
Ewart’s voice was gentle and his smile softened. “But for now you are my guests
and will be treated as such. As for the cot, I think young Ronan might like to
sleep in his own bed, wouldn’t you lad?”

“Oh, yes please, Master
Duke.” Ronan was so excited that he pressed into Kane’s side. “I’d like a bed
of my own. A man shouldn’t share with his ma all his life.”

“No he should not,” Ewart
said. He covered his mouth with his hand and coughed.

Kane ducked his head to
hide his own grin.

“Let’s get you two settled
then.” Brenna walked over to the sofa and held out her hand for Neemah.
Finally, the woman took it and stood, her small bundle of belongings clutched
against her thin body. “Once you clean up, if you want to help, you’ll be welcome
in the kitchen,” Brenna she steered Neemah to the door. “But I’ll warn you.”
Brenna turned and sent Kane a smile. He nudged Ronan and the boy trotted after
his mother. “The men seem to end up there most days too.” 

 Kane made room on the
bench beside him when Brenna came back into the sitting room. He wrapped an arm
around her and pulled her close - she sighed and leaned in to him, her hand
reaching for his.

“Are they settled?” he
asked.

“Yes. I’ve given them some
wash water. I told Neemah that one of you would help bring up bath water later
on.”

“I’ll help her,” Dasid
said.

“Thank you Dasid.” Brenna
smiled sadly. “I’ll warn you, she hasn’t been treated well by men - it might
take some time before she loses her fear.”

“I’ll be gentle,” Dasid
said. “She deserves some kindness, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Brenna agreed. “She
does.” She wished her own mother had been shown such kindness. Perhaps she would
still be alive.

Duke Thorold strolled
through the castle, smiling at the many people who bowed low as he passed. He
turned and went up a short flight of stairs, his personal guard flanking him.
He’d taken over the largest office, of course, as befitted his position as
chief advisor and father of the royal heir. Soon he would add regent to his
titles.

In one week Beldyn would
be crowned king. All his years of planning would finally bring him the power he
deserved. Though Beldyn would wear the crown he would wield very little of the power
that went with being king - and only what his father allowed.