Healer (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 2) (5 page)

“I’m afraid I do not have any jurisdiction over the church of the One-God, Duchess,” Thorold said, trying to sound sad. “The spiritual well-being of his flock is the High Bishop’s concern. If he were here I’m sure he would be able to address your questions. I simply maintain the law.” He spread his hands wide and gave her a small shrug.

Besides Duke Thorold and Duchess Avery, King Mattias and Beldyn also sat around the old wooden table. The king, his skin more yellowed than ever, drooped in his chair, eyes staring blankly ahead. Beldyn gazed around the room with a bored look on his face.

“Really,” Duchess Avery said. “I heard that your men
were looking the other way and
not
maintaining the law. Reports from Aruntian traders reveal that their goods are not being bought because they are from a land and a people who follow the old gods. Such discrimination is against the laws of Soule.”

“Duchess Avery, I’m sorry to correct you.” Thorold tried to sound sympathetic and sincere. “But I’m told that the merchants in Comack simply have no need of the goods. There are no laws being ignored and I cannot order a merchant to buy goods he does not need.”

“Your merchants are happy enough to buy when desperate Aruntian traders sell their goods for less than they’re worth.” Avery glared at him. “The so-called taint of the old gods seems to matter little then.”

“I am sorry, Duchess,” Thorold said. “I’m not a merchant with an understanding of the vagaries of trading. I cannot do anything without proof that a law has been broken.” Thorold met her gaze for a few seconds and when she looked away first, he hid a small smile. Briefly he met the bored gaze of Beldyn and wondered what his son thought about this issue. In fact, he wondered what his son thought about anything. Could Beldyn’s pliability become a problem? He’d have to watch him more carefully.

Captain Barton quietly entered the room. He bowed to the king before he took his usual place closest to the door.

“Captain, have you made any more progress with the traitors?” Thorold asked.

“Yes my Lord Duke,” Barton replied. “We’ve found two more within the Kingsguard and have sent them for questioning.”

“And just whom do you send them to?” Duchess Avery directed her gaze at Barton. “For questioning?”

“We have skilled interrogators within the Guard, Duchess,” the captain replied. Thorold leaned back in his chair. Barton sent a quick look his way and Thorold saw Duchess Avery look from Barton to him, her eyes narrowed.

“I’d heard,” the Duchess said. “That the High Bishop questions these traitors himself.” Avery leaned towards Barton and he flinched slightly.

Thorold frowned. Ever since Barton had been stopped at the border of Aruntun he’d shown a fear of witches. He’d need to mask it better – Thorold would not allow the duchess even that small victory.

“I hear that he tries to convert them.” Avery leaned back in her chair and smiled. “And that
is
against the law. You cannot force a man to change his religious beliefs, no matter what crime he’s accused of.”

“Agreed, Duchess,” Thorold said. “But if a condemned man wishes to petition all gods for forgiveness, neither do we have the right to refuse him,” Thorold said. He grew concerned when Avery’s smile widened.

“Duke Thorold,” Avery said. “Are you saying these men are condemned
before
being interrogated?” She turned to King Mattias. “Your Majesty. There seems to be problem with the timing of the interrogations and when religious comforts are offered to the accused traitors. I ask that you give me full authority to investigate.”

“I refuse…” Thorold started. He stopped when the king turned to glare at him.

“You refuse, Thorold? This is not your decision to make.” Mattias flicked a tired glance at Barton. “Captain, make sure you accommodate the Duchess fully. I will be counting on her good word to vouch for you.”

Furious, Thorold watched Avery smile smugly. He
would not
allow that witch to best him. He would get rid of her and all her kind, once and for all. He dragged his gaze from the witch and once again locked eyes with Beldyn. He thought he saw a flash of emotion in his son’s eyes - then it was gone and Beldyn vacantly stared past him.

Kane took a deep breath as he looked down on Cloud Lake. His eyes followed the ribbon of road that ringed the lake past farms and houses until it ended at the small sprawl of buildings that made up the town. Brenna was somewhere down there. He urged Runner into a walk and they started down the long sloping road.

He’d been chasing spring for days and today he had finally caught it. The afternoon was warm and only small patches of snow remained beneath the clumps of trees that dotted the mountain meadows. As Runner plodded steadily towards the town Kane let his mind wander, simply enjoying the feel of the warm sun on his face and the soft, loamy smell of the breeze.

“Kane, Kane.”

He snapped out of his reverie and looked around. Someone had called his name - his sword tingled, just slightly, against his hip.

“Brenna?” He looked around but didn’t see her.

“Behind you.”

She laughed and he smiled – it was Brenna but he still couldn’t see her. Slowly, he slipped off his horse and ducked, looking under Runner’s belly, trying to see where she was.

“Where are you?” he asked. His cloak was tugged and he spun around, grasping at wildly and he grabbed something. Brenna laughed beside his ear and she wriggled free. Something touched his back but he remained still, focusing on the sounds around him. He heard her muffled laugh and whirling, he reached out and pulled something solid and squirming against his chest.

“Stop struggling.” Kane closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair, lavender, and spring and … “You smell of horse.”

“So do you,” came the reply.

He opened his eyes and suddenly Brenna was there, brown and green eyes flashing at him over her shoulder. She twisted in his arms until she faced him and reached out and hugged him close, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It’s good to see you Kane,” she said softly.

His heart stuttered and he hugged her tight, simply enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

“Do you like my new trick?”

Kane opened his eyes to find she’d disappeared again, though he still had his arms wrapped tight around her. “Very impressive,” he said as she popped back into view. He released her until only one arm was draped around her shoulder. “Let me guess,” he smiled down at her. “Of all the magic you could learn, the one thing they said couldn’t be done was to become invisible, and you, of course, had to prove them wrong.”

“Of course not,” she said. “My teacher showed me how to do this. But she did say it took a lot of power and that staying invisible for long periods would give me headaches.”

“But you do it anyway.”

“Yes. I learned how to stop the headaches.” She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Just think, I was an excellent thief before, now I’ll be able to steal anything.”

“Yes,” Kane agreed. “Not easy to stop a determined
and
invisible thief.”

She nodded happily but Kane couldn’t help but worry. His task was to teach her to think strategically. Invisibility
would
be very useful - for spying, or saving people’s lives, or any number of things that would help her in the quest for the crown of Soule. But Brenna seemed to be stuck in her old life, thinking small and focused on her own individual concerns. He sighed as they trudged along the road. Had she really accepted that she was the Caller, the one prophesied to wear the crown? He glanced over at her as she chatted away. When he’d left her at midwinter she’d seemed to understand the severity of their situation, the monumental task ahead of them. Now she was acting like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Brenna entered Laurel’s house with Kane right behind her, his packs slung over his shoulders. Brenna grinned as she closed the door. Kane was here! She’d at least had some time alone with him when they’d gone up to Poskitt’s farm. They’d left Runner contentedly bedded down beside Blaze and on the walk down to town she’d told him how she was progressing with magic. Tomorrow she’d take him to meet Mistress Utley - she was curious to see what the witch would think of Kane.

“Laurel, look. Kane’s here,” Brenna said as Kane dropped his packs inside the door.

Laurel wiped her hands on her apron and grasped Kane’s hands. “Welcome, Kane, I hope your journey was successful.”

“Reasonably, so, yes,” Kane said. “Although next time I might want to wait until winter has passed before I decide to journey north.”

“Sit down,” Brenna said to Kane. “I’ll make tea and you can tell us your news.” She shooed Laurel over as well and headed for the kettle. “And if you have any letters for us, you better get them out at once,” Brenna said over her shoulder. “I can’t vouch for Laurel, but I’m dying to hear about something other than Mistress Wimple’s gout and Master Lound’s weak stomach.”

Kane rose and grabbed one of his packs.

By the time Brenna placed three steaming mugs on the table Laurel was already engrossed in a long letter. Brenna snatched up the packet that Kane held out to her and untied it. Three pieces of paper dropped into her lap. She quickly unfolded them and scanned them. There was a short one from Pater, written by his nephew Martyn, telling her that the Quarter was dull without her but that it was just as well she was gone - there was even less tolerance for witchcraft, including healing, these days.

The second letter was from Jemma, a quick note saying that she’d earned her trade papers and was now a full weaver, working in the shop with her father. Brenna thought about the strange vision she’d had about Jemma and Beldyn. Despite it being so unlikely, she was positive that it was going to happen, and soon. Thoughtfully she folded Jemma’s letter and picked up the next one. She would talk to Kane about that vision as soon as possible. Would it be a good thing for the Brotherhood? She hoped so.

Distracted, she picked up the final letter. It was from Eryl. He was still harassing Duke Thorold. They were petty enough incidents, but still, she was glad Eryl was doing it. It helped to know that the man who had killed her mother had some frustration in his life. She took a sip of tea when she got near the end of Eryl’s note and nearly dropped her mug. Her hands shook as she reread the sentence over, once, twice and then a third time. She looked up at Kane, eyes wide, but when she saw him open his mouth to question her, she shook her head. She’d tell him later, in private, that after looking for six years, Eryl had finally found her grandmother.

four

Brenna pushed her dinner around the plate, too tense to eat. Occasionally Kane or Laurel would ask her a question and she’d drag her attention back to the conversation but she wasn’t fooling either of them - by the end of the meal they were both looking at her with concern. But all Brenna could do was think about her grandmother, still alive, living in a mining town in Comack, but alive. She had to get her
right now
.

But there were promises she’d made - to learn to control her magic - to convince the Brotherhood in Aruntun that she was the Caller - to stop Duke Thorold from gaining power over all of Soule. Kane still didn’t know about her visions - the ones where hordes of refugees crossed the border from Comack or the other one with Jemma and Beldyn. Kane would tell her that
those
issues must take precedence over her grandmother’s plight. And she knew that, really - but her grandmother was out there.

Finally dinner was over - Brenna grabbed Kane’s hand and dragged him outside. She mumbled something to Laurel about showing Kane the town, which was ridiculous, really. He’d seen most of it on their way in.

Brenna pulled Kane down the street until they stood at the edge of the lake. The fog misted off the water eerily in the cool spring night.

“You want to tell me what this is about?” Kane turned to her, his voice hushed. “I spoke to Eryl, by all the gods, I spent ten days practically living with the man. He didn’t tell me anything I thought would get this reaction from you, or I would have told you before we got to Laurel’s.”

Brenna reached clasped her hands together, suddenly nervous. “It was something between us,” she said. “Something Eryl promised me a long time ago. He would never tell anyone else.” She looked at him and he clenched his jaw and quickly looked away. “He’s found my grandmother. She’s alive, and I have to save her.” She met his gaze, their eyes locking.

“Are you sure?” Kane asked. “That it’s really her?”

“Eryl says yes,” Brenna replied, her voice low. “He would never have told me if he wasn’t sure.” She looked away. “He knows what it would do to me if it turned out not to be her.”

“And his contacts can’t get her?”

“No,” Brenna said. “You’d have to offer huge sums of coin - more coin than Eryl has access to. Even then you couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t take your coin and simply disappear.” Brenna paused. “Or worse, get her and sell her to someone else. It could take years to find her again.”

Kane looked away and nodded, once, and Brenna sagged in relief.

“But we have to be smart,” Kane said. “And prepared. It will take some time to get organized and we have other tasks we must do.” He looked at her. “Can you manage the delay?”

“I’ll have to,” Brenna said. She sighed - she knew he was right, but her heart broke a little all the same. What if they took too long, what if they were too late? What if her grandmother was sold … or died - before they could get there?

“We’ll go south to Smithin,” Kane said. “We can catch a ship to Comack there. That’s where she is?”

“Yes.” Brenna nodded. “In a mining town in the Godswall Mountains.”

“All right,” Kane said, and she heard him sigh deeply. “We can at least spend a few days in Smithin.” Kane looked at her until she nodded. “It’s time you met the Aruntian Brotherhood, anyway.”

“Thank you,” Brenna said. He would help her. She could hardly believe how relieved she was that he was willing to help her. Poor Kane, he’d just traveled across the country, now she was putting him right back on the road. But to find her grandmother, to meet her, to
free her
after all these years! Brenna watched Kane’s profile as he shook his head slowly.

“A catalyst, that’s how I’ve thought of you from the first,” he said softly. “This news about your grandmother, coming right now, puts us on a different path. But it’s
your
path,
your
way forward that is the key.” Kane glanced over at her. “Otherwise why would
you
be the heir to the prophecy?”

Kane woke to the sounds of soft snoring. He opened his eyes slowly, stretching his tired muscles as he looked up at the low roof. He rolled over and saw Brenna curled up on the mattress across from his, one hand tucked under her chin, the blanket clutched tight. Then she breathed out. Kane turned his face into the mattress, trying to smother his laughter.

“What?” Brenna asked. She propped her head on one hand and glared at him. “You’re laughing.”

“Yes, but I was much quieter than you,” Kane said, mirroring her position and propping up his own head on a hand. “You were snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

She threw a pillow at him and he grabbed it and raised it over his head, out of her reach. “In that case, you should see a healer about your breathing problems.”

She got up, crouching under the low ceiling and launched herself at him.

“Oof.” She landed on top of him, the pillow between them.

“I
am
a healer, and I’ll give you breathing problems.” Brenna rolled off him and onto his mattress, beside the wall.

Kane rolled after her, the pillow still between them as he pinned her up against the white- washed wall. His face was inches from hers and he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. She was right, she was giving him breathing problems, he thought as his breathing became shallow and his heart beat faster.

“Admit it, you snore,” Kane said as he dragged his gaze from her mouth to her eyes. It was a mistake. She’d stopped laughing and was looking at him intensely, her brown and green eyes burning into him. Kane heard her ragged breathing as she slowly inched her lips towards his. Her breath was warm on his cheek as her lips met his, hot and wet and soft, so soft. Kane groaned and buried one hand in her hair, sinking into her, into the smell, the feel, the taste of Brenna. He shouldn’t be doing this, kissing her, it would complicate both their lives and jeopardize everything he believed in, but oh, it felt so right. He broke the kiss off and opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed to find he was staring into hers.

“If you promise to kiss me like that again I’ll admit to just about anything.” She smiled at him and he closed his eyes briefly.

“It won’t happen again,” Kane said. “It can’t.” He rolled away from her and grabbed his clothes, pulling them on as fast as he could. He had to get out of here. Now.

“Kane.” He stopped when he felt her hand on his arm. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” He closed his eyes in pain when he heard the hurt and bewilderment in her voice.

“Nothing, it’s not you,” he said gently. “I never should have let it get so far.” He stepped over to the ladder that led down, out of the loft. He couldn’t bed Brenna, he couldn’t. He’d lose his objectivity, and when she did make a match, a political match, it would destroy him. It might anyway but if he shared her bed it was guaranteed.

Kane’s response to Laurel’s cheery good morning was a grunt as he headed outside. The crisp air braced him and he stopped and took a deep breath. He was a soldier - he lived a life of self-discipline. He could do this, he
would
do this. He might not be able to control his emotions, but he could control his actions. He would stay out of Brenna’s bed no matter the cost to him. He took a few more deep breaths before he went back inside.

Brenna clutched the pillow to her chest, staring at the top of the ladder. What had happened? She and Kane had kissed, finally, and then he’d bolted. Her eyes narrowed. And he’d said he shouldn’t have let it get that far, as if it was up to him to decide that for her. She threw the pillow back to her mattress and sighed, feeling deflated. She made her own decisions so it wasn’t up to him.

Brenna smoothed the blankets over both mattresses, her hand lingering on Kane’s. They would be living in very close quarters for quite some time, both here and on the road. Yesterday he’d called her a catalyst and said they had to follow her path - she had enough time to help him realize that
he
was part of her path.

Kane was sitting at the table when Brenna stepped off the ladder from the loft. She nodded at Laurel and picked up a mug from the table and poured herself some tea. Kane tensed as she sat down beside him and Brenna faltered, slightly, as she grabbed a piece of bread and some cheese from the platter in front of her. He couldn’t even sit beside her now? Apparently he needed a lot of convincing. She squared her shoulders - might as well start now.

“Kane, I was hoping you’d come and meet my teacher, Mistress Utley,” Brenna said with a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “She’s very sweet, but quite elderly and there are a few things around her house that need fixing.” She fixed him with a bright smile.

“Yes, of course.” Kane kept his head lowered, not meeting her eyes. “I’d be pleased to help.”

“Thank you,” Brenna said. “We’ll leave as soon as we’ve finished eating.” She took a big bite of bread and chewed it slowly, her appetite for it gone. This might be harder than she’d thought.

All the way to Mistress Utley’s, Brenna kept up a constant chatter about her life for the past few months. She deliberately kept the conversation light and impersonal with descriptions of the unusual properties of Cloud Lake and the small town that sat beside it, the townsfolk she’d met, and her lessons with Mistress Utley. She finally gotten a smile out of Kane when she described how she’d rushed to farmer Poskitt’s in the middle of a cold February night thinking his wife was struggling in childbirth, only to find out it was his prize milker, Lorraine, who was in distress.

“It turns out Mistress Poskitt’s name is actually Agnes, which everyone shortens to Aggie,” Brenna explained.

“I can see why you’d be confused.” Kane smiled when she turned to him. “Lorraine is a pretty name.”

“Not that I’m any judge of cows, but Lorraine did seem a handsome animal. And, Aggie, Mistress Poskitt, told me she was named her after her dead great-aunt.” Brenna smiled slyly at him. “But not having known the aunt, I can’t say whether there’s a resemblance or not.” She grinned when he laughed. She was feeling that they were almost back to normal, when Kane stopped laughing and looked away. The rest of the trip was spent in silence, Brenna furiously trying to think of how she could make Kane feel at ease when he could barely even look at her.

“You’ve a nice young man, Brenna,” Mistress Utley said. They were taking a short break and both had gravitated to the window. Kane was outside, stripped to the waist in the warm spring afternoon, muscles flexing as he swung the axe and chopped wood. “It was kind of him to offer to do some chores, but I did tell you my grandson comes over every second day to look out for me, didn’t I?”

“I recall you saying that, yes,” Brenna said. “But I wanted Kane to meet you, and I wanted you to meet him.” Her smile faltered. “And I’m not sure he would have come just for me.” She turned to Mistress Utley and grinned. “Besides, he does look rather nice out there, doesn’t he?”

Mistress Utley laughed and patted her arm, turning away from the window. “Back to work, young lady, if you want to finish your studies in two weeks.”

“But I need to finish them in one week.” Brenna followed Mistress Utley back to the worktable. “Much as I’ve enjoyed Lakeview and appreciate everything you and Laurel have done for me, I must leave as soon as possible.”

“And why is that?” Mistress Utley asked. “Does it have anything to do with our young man’s arrival? I thought you said he was going to stay with you and Laurel for a while.”

“Kane brought some news,” Brenna said. “News I’ve been waiting for forever. I have to leave.”

“I can see it’s very important,” Mistress Utley said. “And I won’t pry, but if you’ve been waiting forever an extra week or two shouldn’t hurt.”

“You sound like Kane,” Brenna said. “But now that I finally have the news, I
have
to go.”

“I understand,” Mistress Utley said. “But there are some things you just can’t rush. Learning magic is one of them.” She pinned Brenna with a sharp look. “And that young man out there is another. He’ll come around when he’s ready.”

“But, I …” Brenna stopped at the serious look on her teacher’s face. She’d just met Kane, how could she know anything about him? And she hadn’t been planning to coerce him- she simply wanted to make him see that she was right about them – that they belonged together.

“I’m an old woman, Brenna.  I’ve lived a lot of years and one thing I’ve learned is that you can’t force people to you, but you
can
force them away. Let him come to his own decision, in his own time.” Mistress Utley smiled at her. “I’ve a feeling that one will be worth the wait.”

In the next week Kane and Brenna settled into a quiet routine. He’d walk with her to her lessons with Mistress Utley, after which he’d usually do some solitary sword work before exercising both Runner and Blaze, then he’d head back to meet up with Brenna.

They spent afternoons in the mountain meadows, with Brenna showing him which plants to harvest as she stocked up on healing supplies. As they worked, she told him of visions she’d been having.