Healer (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 2) (13 page)

Brenna kept to the shadows as she circled the village, looking for lights in any of the cottages. Finally, she saw a light shine as a door swung open and a man staggered out. He headed for an outbuilding, tried unsuccessfully to open the door a few times, and then fumbled with his breeches. Brenna grinned when she heard the sound of water splashing against the wood of the outbuilding. He was too drunk to make it into the privy - the town would be too small to have a tavern but it obviously had a place where they gathered to drink. Once the man re-entered the house Brenna edged closer.

The small window was high up on the wall, close to where the thatch overhung the roof. The shutters weren’t pulled quite tight this late in the spring and Brenna was able to peek through the small gap between the weathered wood and the top of the windowsill.

Three men sat around a table, mugs and cups of various designs and materials in front of them. All three had close-shaved heads and chins, which Brenna thought unusual until she remembered the Lakeview family whose house had been infested with fleas over the winter. She muttered a small warding spell, hoping to keep any and all vermin away from her.

“Give us s’more of that fish swill, would ye Akers?”

Brenna thought it was the man who had been outside who spoke. He raised his mug with an unsteady hand as the man directly facing Brenna tipped a cracked jug and splashed some liquid in his mug. Akers turned his small, mean eyes to the third person in the room.

“How about you, Priest, want more?”

A fourth man stepped into Brenna’s view. He’d been against the wall the window was on.

“No thank you, Master Stubbins,” the priest said. “A hot tea is refreshment enough for me while I do the One-God’s work, although I do appreciate the offer.” The priest paced around the table, his gray cloak hanging off his arm. “I must be getting back to Mistress Minns soon. I’m afraid I’ve put the woman out of her own bed. There’s no need to make things worse by keeping her up until all hours waiting for me.”

“She won’t mind,” Akers said and laughed loudly. “And she’d like as not share the bed wit ye as well.” Akers and his two friends raised their glasses and drank. The priest turned towards the window and Brenna caught the look of calculation that flitted across his face.

“Before I go,” the priest said. “I want to impress on you the importance of my message.” The priest turned back to them. “The church is counting on you, the town leaders. We must guard against the blasphemers - the witches and others who deny the One-God’s existence and cling to their old beliefs.”

“Ye can count on us,” Stubbins lifted his mug again in salute. “Any witches come around here, we’ll stone ‘em.”

“No, no,” the priest said. “You must capture them and send word to the church. The High Bishop has declared that all witches will have the chance to denounce their gods and be saved. In his compassion he would not deny salvation to those who need it.”

Brenna thought about the pain Feiren had endured at the hands of the High Bishop and frowned. She could do without his type of compassion.

The priest left and Brenna, still hunched by the window, saw him enter another nearby cottage. The three men left inside - the village leaders - Brenna thought with disgust, spent the next few minutes detailing how they would
save
any witch they came across. None of them seemed to understand that a witch, a
real
witch, might have some power they couldn’t combat with brute strength and cruelty.

Brenna eased back from the window and crept slowly towards the cottage the priest had entered. She circled around it, stopping at each window to check for more conversation. It was unlikely this Mistress Minns was a particular ally of the church, but she would confirm that if possible

When she stopped at the third window Brenna knew exactly what kind of ally Mistress Minns was - she heard the unmistakable sounds of coupling. Her lip curled in disgust and she slipped away. The priests of the One-God vowed to be chaste but it hadn’t taken much for the one visiting this village to break that vow.

Brenna located Kane though old steel and signaled him to have the boat pick her up where they’d dropped her off. He helped her into the small craft and in silence they were rowed back to the Sea Sprite.

Kane clenched his fists when Brenna recounted the conversation she’d overheard. If the church of the One-God was looking for witches, then Brenna as their target. He forced his hands open, trying to relax. She had more power than any witch Duke Thorold or High Bishop Valden could imagine – enough to worry Duchess Avery - and now she was trained. Kane had to trust that Brenna could escape any trap set for her. He needed her to be safe but he couldn’t control her, didn’t
want
to control her. And as she’d shown tonight, there were times when she was the best choice for a dangerous task.

“Thank you Brenna,” Captain Chaffer said when Brenna finished speaking. “I’ll get word to the duchess. This must be what they did in the south - turn members of the church of the One-God against those who follow the old gods.” Chaffer turned to Kane. “What’s your opinion?” 

“Duke Thorold has proof that the Brotherhood follows the old gods,” Kane said. “And he’s always had a particular dislike of Aruntun, probably because they have a power that he can never control. By using the church in this way he can damage, possibly even cripple, both groups.” 

“Yes,” Captain Chaffer said. “Unfortunately it’s already working. That’s why even the duchess had trouble finding a ship willing to transport her.” He sighed and shook his head. “It seems safe enough to put you ashore but you’ll need to get out of the area quickly. The priest seems to be alone but he might be meeting up with a larger party.”

“I agree,” Brenna said. “He’s not from this village and he didn’t look like he could survive on his own for long.”

Kane leaned over the ships rail and scanned the shoreline. Finding a safe place to land the horses was proving difficult. With only two hours until dawn they still hadn’t found a shallow, quiet cove. If they traveled too far north they’d need to scout again, which would delay their landing another full day.

“This is as far north as we should go for tonight,” Chaffer said from Kane’s right. He rubbed a hand across his eyes and looked out at the ragged shoreline. “It’s not the best spot but I’ll try it if you want.”

“We need to go ashore tonight,” Kane said. “If we linger along the coast another day there’s an extra risk of being spotted.” He called Brenna over from where she’d been staring at the shoreline.

“Captain says this is the spot,” he said to her.

Brenna nodded. “Good.” She turned Captain Chaffer. “Try to get the ship a little closer to that outcrop and set me down in the water first. It may take me a few minutes to figure out how to do what I need to do.”

Kane checked the rope that clipped Brenna to the winch then watched her be swung out over the railings and lowered into the bay. The closer she got to the sea the calmer it became and by the time she hovered directly over the surface, it was as smooth as glass. She was slowly lowered until her first her feet and then her hips were submerged. He held his breath as the ocean eddied away from her. Finally she stood ankle deep in water, a rough circle of deeper water surrounding her. She nodded and he felt his sword trill.

“She’s ready for the horses,” Kane said.

He met Yowan at the hold. Runner and Blaze stood quietly, cloths tied over their eyes. He led Blaze to the center of the deck and gently fitted her into the harness. After making sure the straps were secure and tight he waved an arm and the sailors manning the ropes heaved the horse into the air. Blaze thrashed her legs as she was lifted over the railing. Brenna’s voice, crooning to the horse, carried across the water and the horse calmed as it was lowered to her waiting hands. She quickly unstrapped Blaze and the harness was pulled back to the ship. Brenna walked the horse to shore, a rough circle of shallow water marking their progress.

It took an hour to get all four horses ashore and when the last one, Yowan’s Smoke, was out of the harness, Kane and Yowan sent their packs down to the small boat that would take them and the rest of their gear ashore.

“Captain Chaffer.” Kane clasped the man’s arm. “Thank you for the help. I know you said you wanted no payment, but if you change your mind, let me know.”

“I don’t want coin for this,” Chaffer said. “My crew and I are proud to do our share. Just get things back to the way they were, without the church making trouble for the rest of us,” Chaffer said. “And take care of her,” he gestured towards Brenna. “She doesn’t realize her own worth.” The captain held Kane’s gaze for a moment. “But you do. Go, and may Jik watch over you.”

Kane nodded, then turned and followed Yowan down the rope ladder. Once they were settled in the boat the two sailors pushed off and slipped their oars into the locks. Quietly they skimmed across the water of the cove towards the huddled figures of Brenna and the horses.

Kane smiled briefly at Brenna before unloading their gear from the boat. He started saddling Runner, Blaze and Smoke while Yowan shifted a full pack onto the fourth horse, Patches. Brenna stared as the small boat made its way back to the Sea Sprite. She sighed loudly and Kane joined her. He reached an arm around her and her shoulders drooped as she leaned into him.

“They’re all on board?” Kane felt her answering nod as he looked out across the cove.

In the predawn sky he could just make out the small boat being hauled out of the now choppy sea, figures crawling over the rail with ropes, lashing it down tight. “We’ll ride just a few hours - then we’ll camp and you can get some rest. I’ll lead Blaze if you want.” He smiled when her shoulders stiffened and she turned to glare at him.

“I can ride my own horse,” Brenna said, before her shoulders slumped again. “For a few hours.”

Half a dozen miles inland they made camp in a valley warmed by the sun. Kane built a small fire and put a pot of water on to boil while Yowan dealt with the horses. Brenna simply sat slumped by the fire, obviously tired by her use of magic during the night. Kane roused her long enough to get her to drink a mug of tea and eat a small meal of nuts and cheese before he led her over to her bedroll. Silently she climbed in and fell fast asleep.

Kane returned to sit by the fire, nibbling on his own meal. If they came across other travelers they would tell them that they were guards traveling to Blackwall to look for work. There was no chance that Kane and Yowan could pass themselves off as farmers or traders but Thorold’s oppression of the Kingsguard meant that enough of them were on the move that two more men shouldn’t be noticed.

They would say they’d heard that ore was being traded up north to Langemore and hoped to be hired to safeguard the shipments. If they couldn’t get work doing that then maybe the town or an inn would need help. If asked they’d say they met Brenna at an inn - she’d been desperate to leave and had impressed them with her cooking. Kane had eaten enough poor food to know that someone who could cook would always be welcome.

Kane would use his old Kingsreach alias of Arlott while Brenna would be called Jemma, after her friend in Kingsreach. Yowan could safely use his own name - it was unlikely Duke Thorold had ever heard of him.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Kane said when Yowan joined him by the fire.

“And I’ll take second.” Yowan glanced at Brenna’s sleeping form. “I don’t need much sleep these days anyways and she’ll need hers.”

Kane nodded. “She did the brunt of the work last night.” Not only had she scouted but she’d also had to manage the horses.

“And magic takes it out of them.”

Duke Thorold smiled at the scroll that lay before him on his desk. He was in his office at the castle - next to him were the empty offices of Fallad and Aruntun. Duchess Avery was out of Kingsreach for a few days and Duke Ewart had left yesterday to spend time with his pregnant wife. That gave him a few days as the key member of the King’s Council. It should be just enough time.

He smoothed out the scroll and read it again. It really hadn’t been very difficult, after all. He’d expected the king to put up more of a fight but the double doses of trefell were working admirably. The king had barely raised his head when Thorold and the High Bishop had petitioned him - he’d signed the declaration word for word, as both the scribe and Captain Barton could attest to. The fact that two of the king’s advisors weren’t present was not really so unusual.

Thorold’s smile widened as he smoothed a hand across the declaration. The Aruntun witch would finally pay for her meddling! He would enjoy watching the High Bishop convert that one. He’d make the proclamation public when she arrived. Even now Valden was having copies transcribed for every church in the country. Messengers were being readied, simply awaiting his word to carry the copies all across the land. Still smiling, Thorold re-rolled the scroll and tied it with the blue ribbon, the royal blue that signified a royal decree. He hadn’t planned on this, hadn’t in fact realized it was needed, but it would solve a many problems. Seeing the look on Duchess Avery’s face would be an added pleasure.

eleven

Brenna woke slowly, stretching her arms and legs inside her bedroll. Usually quick to wake, she felt drained and lethargic after the use of so much magic. She checked for old steel and found Kane’s sword, close to him but not on him, as well as Yowan’s. She struggled out of her bedroll and stretched again.

Yowan sat on a log that had been hauled close to the fire.

“Is there any tea?” Brenna asked. Yowan nodded and Brenna sat down beside him. She took the steaming mug he wordlessly held out to her. “Thanks.” She took a sip. “Is it my watch now?”

“You did more than your share last night,” Yowan said. “Have your tea and get some more sleep. Kane and I will split the watch.”

Brenna looked across the fire to where Kane was sprawled out in his bedroll. “But I’m awake now.”

It took another hour of her being wide awake before she finally convinced Yowan that she couldn’t sleep and he climbed into his own bedroll. With both Yowan and Kane asleep, Brenna wandered over to the horses, patting each one on its nose before portioning out some grain. She was sure Kane or Yowan had fed them but they’d been cooped up on the ship and they deserved a treat to help ease into traveling again.

Eventually she sat back down at the fire, another mug of tea in hand. She was back in Comack and it made her nervous. She’d never wanted to set foot in the duchy of her birth, not after the horrible way her life had started - born into indentured servitude, her mother killed – murdered - in front of her by Duke Thorold. No, she’d never wanted to be back here but her grandmother was here.

She sighed and put her empty mug on the ground. Now that she was in Comack she’d need to hide her eyes. Her mismatched eyes would get her labeled witch the first time anyone saw her. She shook her head. For years she’d told herself that her eyes didn’t mean she was a witch - how wrong she’d been.

Brenna muttered the spell to hide her witch eyes – the one her mother had taught her all those years ago. That should do it. She stood up again, restless - too on edge to stay still. Despite it being so early in spring she was able to dig up a few young onions and find some rhubarb. The red stalks were bitter but they would add a fruity flavor to a stew.

Brenna had just finished adding the dried venison to the pot when she heard rustling sounds behind her. A quick look over her shoulder showed her Kane scrambling out of his bedroll. He strapped on his sword before he looked her way. Then he turned away, his face pale, before he turned back to her.

“Brenna what have you done?” he asked softly.

“I made some stew.” Her smile faltered as Kane warily came closer.

He tentatively reached out and took hold of her chin, his eyes locked on her face as he turned it first one way and then another.

“No, I mean your eyes.” He peered closer. “Can you see?”

“Of course I can see.” Brenna jerked her head away from him. “Why wouldn’t I be able to see?”

“Because you have no eyes. At least none that I can see.”

“Ush’s tits, Brenna, what happened?” Yowan stared at her from his bedroll. “There’s nothing but bloody, gaping holes where your eyes should be.”

Brenna’s hands flew to her face. “Oh no.” The spell must have been too strong.  Quickly she mumbled a different spell, a reversing spell she’d learned from Mistress Utley. “How about now?” Kane nodded, looking relieved and she sighed. “Sorry, I was trying to hide my eyes.”

“It worked,” Kane said, his voice dry.

“I was trying to make them both the same colour.” She paused, confused. “I don’t understand. It’s the same spell I’ve used for years.” But that was before Mistress Utley taught her how to harness all her power. “I must have used too much power.” She muttered the spell again, this time trying to dole out a small amount of power. “How about now?” she asked Kane.

“They’re both brown,” he frowned. “I’ve never seen them both brown before. Is this what everyone else saw all along?”

Brenna nodded and tweaked the magic slightly. “And now?”

Kane peered at her. “If I look close enough I see the green one, but a quick glance and it’s two brown eyes.”

Yowan edged in for a look as well. “I just see the brown ones,” he said. “Which is a good thing considering the church is looking for witches.”

After a quick meal of stew they broke camp and headed north. According to Brenna’s map they were about two days ride from Blackwall, the town that had sprung up to supply the Blackwall mine.

The sun set as they headed into jagged foothills, the shadowed, white-capped peaks of the Godswall looming above them. The air was chill this high up and Brenna huddled into her cloak. Not wanting to overtire the horses they only rode for four hours before making camp - after so many days of limited activity on the Sea Sprite they all found the thin mountain air hard to breathe. Brenna insisted she was ready to take her turn so the men gave her the first watch.

After two uneventful hours she woke Kane and crawled into his still-warm bedroll. When she awoke in the morning her back was snuggled up against a warm chest and she settled closer. She could see her breath in the cold mountain air and she didn’t want to leave the warmth of either the bedroll or Kane.

“You’ll have to get up eventually.” Kane’s breath tickled the back of her neck.

“I don’t want to.” Brenna shut her eyes tight. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to know that Yowan’s made tea and has fed and watered the horses.”

Brenna stretched. Guilt that Yowan was doing all the work was enough to get her out of the bedroll. Shivering in the chill air, she stamped her feet into her boots. She took the steaming mug Yowan handed to her and sat by the fire.

“Thank you.” She sipped her tea carefully. “Kane said you’ve looked after the horses as well.”

“Ah, I thought he was awake, the lay-about.” Yowan said as Kane came over, drops of water still clinging to his dark hair.

“So,” Yowan said as he poured some tea for Kane. “You knew I was up tending the horses and yet you let an old man do all the work while you stayed abed with your woman.”

“That’s right,” Kane said. “I had a bedroll partner I didn’t want to disturb. You would have done the same thing.”

Yowan handed the tea over silently before he nodded. “Hope I’m given the chance,” he said.

Thorold sat in the king’s council chamber, his fingers drumming on the table in front of the scroll. Captain Barton stood slightly to the left of him and High Bishop Valden sat immediately to his right. King Mattias, his skin now the color of old parchment, sat in his state chair at the front of the room. His head drooped to one side and his hair, what was left of it, lay dully across his shoulders.

Thorold wasn’t sure if the king was sleeping or unconscious - it was so hard to tell these days. The rise and fall of the king’s chest, as well as the presence of Cuthbert, the king’s healer, were evidence that he was still alive. Thorold dipped his head very slightly at the healer. Cuthbert stood behind the king, smelling salts at the ready in case he needed to wake Mattias. Two of Barton’s most trusted guards flanked the king and another two stood just inside the door that lead out to the hall.

The seat beside the High Bishop was waiting for Duchess Avery of Aruntun, who’d arrived back in Kingsreach yesterday. Thorold, by his right as the king’s senior advisor, had requested her presence in council this morning.

“I apologize for being delayed,” Duchess Avery said as she entered through the open door. She bowed low before the king and hurried to her place beside the High Bishop. As soon as she was seated Barton gestured to his men and the door was closed. The two Kingsguard took up position in front of it.

“Apology accepted, Duchess.” Thorold smiled at her. “I’m sure your journey was tiring.” He watched her as she settled herself at the table. Thorold knew the moment she really understood Mattias’ condition - her eyes widened and she sat up straighter.

“Now that the king’s council is convened, with the exception of Duke Ewart,” Thorold began, “it is time to formally adopt an edict issued by King Mattias.” He unrolled the scroll and read. “
I, Mattias, ruler of Soule and her three duchies, Fallad, Comack and Aruntun, hereby declare the One-God to be the true God
,” he paused briefly when he heard Avery gasp. “
Just as the crown protects and upholds the physical laws and well-being of the people of Soule, the Church of the One-God protects and upholds the spiritual laws and well-being of the people of Soule. So I declare. Let it also be known that those whose lifework has been given to upholding the physical and spiritual laws will be held in high esteem and judged accordingly in all things. Any who oppose this edict will also be judged accordingly in all things. So I declare
, signed Mattias, King.”

“You can’t do that.” Avery had turned to face him, her face red with fury.

Calmly, Thorold passed the scroll to her. “It’s all here, signed by the King and witnessed by three of his council.”

He watched the blood drain from Avery’s face as she read through the edict twice. She studied the four signatures at the bottom, looking up at the king and then around the room, her gaze resting on himself, the High Bishop and Captain Barton before she nodded to herself.

“I will not submit to this, neither will Aruntun.” She tossed the scroll back onto the table and looked directly into his eyes.

Thorold smiled and he saw a flicker of doubt cross her face. “I never thought you would, my dear Duchess. Captain Barton, please arrest the Duchess. She has directly opposed the king’s edict.”

“You may have me, but you will never take Aruntun, you know.” Avery stood as the guards approached her. “You can’t even cross the border can you?” She looked directly at Barton when she said it and to Thorold’s fury, the man flinched. As the duchess being led away Thorold became aware of the High Bishop trembling beside him.

“Not yet, my friend,” he leaned over and placed a hand on the High Bishop’s quivering shoulder. “You must be patient.” He removed his hand in disgust and rose to leave the room. The man was practically salivating over the chance to
convert
Duchess Avery.

“Report, Captain.” Thorold reclined in the chair in his office at his estate. Barton had come through one of the secret tunnels. Soon they would be able to dispense with any subterfuge, soon there would be no need to try to hide who was really ruling Soule - the king would not live much longer, he’d see to it.

“Duchess Avery and her captain, Neal Ravershaw, have both been imprisoned, my Lord.” Barton stood at attention still. Thorold had not given him permission to sit, a small price for flinching in front of the duchess.

“And they both publicly denounced the edict?”

“Yes my Lord. Although Ravershaw nearly drew his sword before the duchess told him to stand down,” Barton said.

“A pity for them,” said Thorold absently. They would never have gotten past the Kingsguard but one or both may have secured a cleaner death than the one they would get from the High Bishop.

“And they’ve had no chance to send any communication?” he asked.

“No my Lord. They were escorted directly to the prison. Not even the servants were aware they’d been arrested.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.” Thorold waved a hand and Barton headed towards the secret panel.

“One more thing, Captain.” Thorold glanced at the man as he stood halfway through the door. “Today, when I wanted her beaten down, you allowed the Duchess a small satisfaction. Do not give away yourself away like that in the future. Do you understand?”

Barton nodded and entered the passage, quickly closing the panel behind him. Thorold sat in his study a few minutes longer. Aruntun was under control - next would be Fallad. The Brotherhood had a stronghold in there - he needed to find and destroy it. Too bad Lord Stobert had proven so ineffectual.

Kane – astride Runner - was scouting about half an hour ahead of Brenna and Yowan. The trail they’d been following was well used - the dirt was hard-packed despite the spongy turf to either side. In the days since they’d landed on the coast they had passed the remains of two camps, both more than a week old. This morning the trail had widened and another path from the east had joined it - the tracks of narrow wagons visible among multiple hoof prints. At the fork in the road Kane had decided to range ahead, on the look-out for bandits or Comackian guards.

Years before Thorold had become duke, Kingsguardsmen had patrolled these mountains, keeping the trade routes free. That was before Kane was a guard but Dasid had spent time up here - he’d loved it almost as much as the Western Forest he’d grown up in. Once Thorold became Duke he’d insisted on having his Comackian guards patrol his land.

Kane stopped Runner at the crest of a hill. A large valley spread below him - the silver ribbon of a river cutting it in half. The trail wound its way down and through dense trees to the valley floor, crossing the river at a bridge. At the far end of the valley, with its back hard against the mountain it was named for, stood what must be the town of Blackwall. Kane spotted stone walls perched high up the dark mountain. That was their final destination, Blackwall mine, where Eryl’s information said an indentured servant named Madelay Trewen lived. An indentured servant who had been born Madelay Kerrich and was sister to the Duchess of Aruntun.