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BOOK: Queen (Brotherhood of the Throne)
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“Already? But there’s
hours yet.” Brenna looked up at the sky and then at him. “Sorry,” she said. “I
lost track of the time.”

“Yes, well, many people
showed up at first light. I’m surprised you didn’t see them when you left this
morning.” He caught the guilty look on her face and smiled. “Even by roof top
you should have noticed them.”

“I hoped it was market
day.” Her smile faltered. “I did notice but I didn’t want to think about it.
You know I hate this, being the centre of attention.”

“Something you must get
used to it.” Kane opened the back gate. He signaled to the four militia guards
that all was well. The men snapped to attention when he and Brenna went past
them. Kane heard her sigh and said. “Something else to get used to.”

“I know,” Brenna said, her
head drooping. “It’s just not something I ever wanted.”

“Which is just one reason why
you are a better choice to rule than Thorold.”

“Yes,” She clutched his
hand as they entered the house. “But I still hate it.”

 

six

 

 

Brenna studied her
reflection in the mirror, wishing again that she could wear her black breeches
and tunic. The dress looked well enough, she thought turning to the side. It
was a deep, charcoal gray wool – the same colour she’d chosen for her Guards -
and as finely woven as anything she’d worn. It draped her nicely, even she had
to admit that - but she felt naked in it. Even with her knife belted around her
waist she felt vulnerable. And confined.

She knew it wasn’t the
dress, not really. It was the ceremony and what it would mean for her life. After
this she worried that she’d be forever on display, her every movement and
statement noted and discussed by others. For someone who had fought for her
freedom, whose mother had
died
buying that freedom, willingly giving it
up felt like a betrayal. In just a few minutes Kane would come get her, escort
her outside and put her on display in front of a huge crowd. And her life would
never again be her own. Oh, it wasn’t the same as being indentured and no doubt
her mother would have been happy for her, but Brenna knew what her coronation it
meant. 

And today there were two
coronations - hers in Silverdale and Beldyn’s in Kingsreach. At Beldyn’s, Duke Thorold
would be named regent, no doubt with a great deal of ceremony, and the High
Bishop would likely bless the crown. Brenna shivered at the thought of the High
Bishop touching anything she would wear, let alone the coronet. She pulled the
coronet from her pack just as the door opened and Kane entered.

“You look beautiful,” Kane
said as he walked around her. “Very much a queen. Are you ready?”

He held out his arm and
she nervously took it, grateful for the warmth in his eyes. By the time they
got downstairs she felt a little steadier. Neemah stood at the bottom of the
stairs and Brenna handed the coronet to her. Once out of her hands the
coronet’s song intensified and Brenna stumbled.  

Kane paused while she
found her feet, then signaled to Dasid to open front door. Then she was outside
walking towards the dais that had been built just for today.

She’d wanted the whole
ceremony to take place outside, where people could see, but now the size of the
crowd made her regret that decision. Kane held her arm tight as they passed
between the rows of Brothers, solemn in their new gray uniforms. Beyond the
Brothers, people in the crowd strained for a glimpse of her as she walked by.

And then they were there.
She didn’t remember climbing the steps but she must have, for she was above the
crowd now, with Kane on one side and Ewart on the other. Both men stepped away
and she stood there by herself, the wind playing with the hem of her dress.
Brenna held her breath as the noise of the crowd slowly subsided until the only
sounds were pigeons cooing from the roofs of the houses and the occasional high
pitched voice of a child.

Duke Ewart stepped
forward, the green of his dress uniform vivid in the afternoon sun.

“I, Ewart Wortley, Duke of
Fallad, on behalf of the people of Fallad, declare allegiance to Brenna Trewen,
my cousin.” Duke Ewart then took a scroll from inside his vest and unrolled it.
“I, Avery Kerrich, Duchess of Aruntun, on behalf of the people of Aruntun,
pledge allegiance to Brenna Trewen, beloved granddaughter of my sister.” Ewart
stepped back and Kane came forward.

“I, Kane Rowse, council
member of Brotherhood of the Throne, on behalf of the Brotherhood, declare
allegiance to Brenna Trewen, the Caller.”

At Kane’s words the
Brothers in the crowd gave three sharp cheers. Brenna caught Kane’s eye as he
stepped back. She was about to step forward herself when she noticed a
disturbance in the crowd.

The crowd rippled and
parted. Mother Lyran walked slowly towards the dais, helped through the crowd
by one of the healers. When the old woman reached the platform she fixed Brenna
with her sightless eyes for a moment before turning towards the crowd.

“I, Mother Lyran, pledge
to Brenna Trewen. The old gods have answered our prayers and have sent a true
daughter of Aruntun - the True One who has long been awaited.”

Mother Lyran moved towards
the side of the dais and Neemah hurried forward to help the old woman climb the
steps. When she stood beside Brenna she could feel the power emanating from
her. Brenna stepped forward and raised her chin.

“I, Brenna Trewen, pledge
to aid Soule and all her people - to put their health and well being ahead of
my own and to treat them with fairness and compassion.” She turned as Neemah
brought the coronet to her. The coronet sang as it was brought out into the
open. Mother Lyran took the coronet and held it aloft.

“Wolde’s coronet,” the old
woman’s voice rang out across the square. “Last worn before the church of the
One-God was welcomed into Soule. It has returned to help restore balance.”
Mother Lyran took two small steps and placed the coronet on Brenna’s head.

The coronet sang to her. Eyes
closed, she let the music sweep over her for a few moments. When she opened her
eyes she had to squint against the brightness. The coronet shone, bathing the
crowd in its clear, bright light. Faces in the crowd looked on in   wonder and
Brenna realized that they could hear the music as well. She glanced around and
met Mother Lyran’s wide smile before her gaze settled on Kane’s face. He nodded
and smiled and she relaxed, just a little.

Brenna struggled to dim
the light the coronet radiated. The song faded and eventually the coronet fell
silent, but it continued to glow faintly. She bowed to the crowd, who sent up a
cheer. Kane and Ewart stepped forward to flank her as she stood, coronet on her
head, her gray dress floating around her, while the sun set and dusk crept
across the square. Eventually the somber crowd dispersed, leaving Brenna’s
Guard  ringing the dais.

Eventually Kane took her
arm and led her back towards Ewart’s house. Once there, Brenna headed for her
room. She stripped off the dress and gently laid the coronet on a table. Then,
before anyone could tell her otherwise, she donned her black thief’s clothes,
strapped her knife around her waist and ducked out the window.

 

Brenna picked her way
through the crowd. She felt her shoulders relax and she sighed - finally she
felt like herself. The woman on the dais, the one in the gray dress and coronet,
that hadn’t been her, not really. She edged her way around a fire where women
were roasting chestnuts. Brenna dropped her hand to her knife hilt and quickly
let Kane know she was fine. His worry turned to irritation when she refused to
tell him
where
she was. She felt a twinge of guilt when she broke off
their contact. She’d deal with his anger later, for now, she just wanted some
time to be herself and reflect on the change in her life.

She knew the ceremony was
needed - it followed the traditions of Soule coronations and allowed the people
to see her acknowledged as the ruler of Soule. But it had felt so confining. She
hoped the feeling of being trapped passed - she didn’t know if she could live
the rest of her life feeling this way, feeling as though she had no control
over her own life. It was how she’d felt as an indentured servant. Brenna shook
her head. It wasn’t the same, she knew that, but it
felt
like that. There
were two things about today that
had
felt right - Kane’s presence and
wearing the coronet. Maybe the rest would feel all right with time.

“It’s her, I tells ye, the
one as they just made queen,” someone whispered.  

Brenna ducked her head and
tried to move off. It was starting already - she couldn’t escape being queen
even for a few hours.

“Can’t be. What would she
be doin’ out her wit the likes of us?”

“I don’t know, but I’m
tellin’ ye it’s her. I know her and she knows me.”

Brenna kept her head down
and tried to ease away from the speaker but she found her path blocked by a rowdy
group of men celebrating with mugs raised in their linked arms. She looked behind
- recognizing the person who had been talking.

“Mistress Ventris, hello,”
Brenna said. She smiled to the woman who stood watching her. The woman’s
companion, a man just a few years older than Mistress Ventris, crossed his arms
and stared at her.

“Ay, Mistress Brenna, ye
remembered me.” Mistress Ventris elbowed her companion. “This here’s my man,
the one I told you joined up the militia and all.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”
Brenna nodded. She leaned in towards them. “But please don’t let anyone who I
am. I’m here in secret.”

“Ah,” Mistress Ventris
smiled and she took Brenna’s arm. “Tired of the fuss already, are ye? Don’t
worry, we won’t say a word, will we Pell?” Her husband scowled, then he nodded.

“I don’t believe ye are who
the wife says anyways,” he said. “So I won’t go sayin’ nothin’.”

“That’s fine,” Brenna
said. She didn’t exactly look like a queen at the moment. Besides, it would
make things easier for her if he didn’t believe it was her.

“Come, have a mug of ale
with us,” Mistress Ventris said. “It’s not everyday we get a new queen.” She
leaned closer. “Or I gets to have a drink with her.”

“Quit sayin’ such,” Pell
said. “She’s not the queen. Where’s her crown?”

“Hush,” Mistress Ventris
said. “She’s left that back. Why would she go out in secret wearin’ her crown?
Don’t mind him,” she said to Brenna. “He’s a bit tired what with all the buildin’
work he’s been doin’.”

Brenna smiled and nodded,
taking the mug that was offered to her. “Yes, the houses,” she said. “Kane said
there’s been a great deal of progress already. And Master Gwylym is a real
find. That’s a man who knows wood.”

“What do you know about
Kane Rowse and Master Gwylym?” Pell asked.

“I told you it’s her,”
Mistress Ventris said. “Kane Rowse is her man.”

 “Is he?” Pell asked and
Brenna nodded. “That’s a right fair man, that one.” Pell lifted his mug. “He’s
seeing to it that we build homes for our families afore we do anything much for
the army. That’s a right fair man.”

Brenna smiled. Yes, Kane was a right fair man. And she
really shouldn’t make him worry any longer. She sighed and sipped her ale. It
was weak and thin but it tasted like home to her. She drained her mug and
handed it to Mistress Ventris.

               
“Thank you for the ale and the company, but I have to go.”
She stood up and smiled down at the couple.

“Ah come on, you can stay
for another ale, can’t you?” Pell asked.

“Sorry, Kane’s waiting for
me and I still have some tasks I need to complete tonight,” Brenna said. She sighed.
Her stolen moment of freedom was over. She and Kane must contact Marcus Brunger
and hear his report of Beldyn’s coronation. No doubt Beldyn felt as constrained
as she did. She nodded to her hosts and headed into the crowd towards Duke
Ewart’s house.

 

Kane heard her come
through the window but he made no move to make her aware that he was there. He
had his sword with him - she could check his whereabouts any time she wanted. Unlike
him. She had the lamp lit and was removing her black slippers before she turned
around and saw him.

“Kane, I’m sorry.”

She stood very still in
the center of the room and any anger he’d been feeling dropped away when met
her eyes. He sighed and stood up, opening his arms wide. Brenna flowed into
them and he wrapped himself around her. He’d expected defiance, maybe some
humor, but not this sadness and uncertainty.

“I just needed to remember
who I am, to feel like myself again,” Brenna said against his chest and he felt
his heart break a little.

This wasn’t anything she’d
ever wanted - he shouldn’t have to remind himself of that. Her life would never
be the same, would rarely even be completely her own - no wonder she was struggling
with becoming queen.

“I’ll never ask you to
wear a dress again,” he said, grateful to feel her body shake with laughter.
“Will that help?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know.”
She leaned back and he met her gaze. “The dress was only part of it. I felt
trapped, somehow. And you know I hate being the centre of attention.”

Kane sighed and nodded.
“And now you always will be. It’s your destiny, the prophecy.”

“Hmph. Only if I accept
it.” Brenna smiled up at him. “I’ll figure out a way to make this comfortable
for me. I have to.”

“I’ll help,” Kane
promised. “In any way I can.”

 

Kane leaned back in the
chair and lifted his hand off the two knives on the table. Marcus Brunger’s
report on Beldyn’s coronation hadn’t contained anything unusual.

“If Thorold received the
note Marcus sent telling him that Brenna has declared herself Queen with the
backing of Fallad and Aruntun, he didn’t reveal it,” he said to Ewart and
Dasid. “But we don’t know for sure that Beldyn hasn’t changed his mind since we
talked to him and Jemma.”

“He won’t,” Brenna said.

She tiredly dragged a hand
through her hair and Kane wanted nothing more than to take her upstairs and
tuck her into bed.

“Marcus did say that Colm
spent some time talking to Beldyn - maybe we’ll have more news after he’s
talked to Colm?”

“And Thorold read out some
general statements of support allegedly from Ewart and Avery.”

“Anyone who knows that Avery
and Neal were imprisoned by Thorold knows her support is the last think he’ll
get from her,” Dasid said.

“Yes. But not many know. Should
we make that common knowledge in Kingsreach?” Kane turned back to Brenna. “Is
Thieves Quarter the right place to start spreading that information?” She
nodded.

“We’ll have Eryl handle it,”
Kane continued. “He can circulate a few reports from witnesses. I’ll send a
note to him in the morning. There’s no great rush on this one and we need to
keep our overland routes open.” There was a scuffling sound from behind the
sofa - Kane looked at Dasid, who mouthed
Ronan
.

“Perhaps we need to start
recruiting some younger spies,” Kane said loudly. “It’s dangerous work but I’m
sure we can find some likely lads. What do you say Dasid?”

“Mm, I’m not sure. I might
know a lad who’s good at spying.” Dasid grinned when a small head popped up
from behind the sofa.

“I can do it,” Ronan said.
“I’m good at hiding and I’m small and all.”

“I’m not sure,” Kane said.
“Recruits need to be able to keep secrets and not mention anything they’ve
heard to anyone.” He looked at the boy. “Not even to their mothers.”

Ronan’s eyes widened and
Brenna stifled a laugh. The boy looked at Kane solemnly.

“I’m real good at that,” Ronan
said. “I have lots of things I don’t tell my mother about.”

“Like what?” Dasid asked.
“We need to be sure we can trust you on this.”

“Well, I saw the cook at
the Black Swan spit into Syme’s stew lots of times and I never told anyone
that.” The boy looked confused for a moment. “Until now,” he added.

“That does prove that you
can keep a secret,” Dasid said. “What do you say Kane, do we take him on?”

Kane watched the boy,
fighting to keep from smiling. Brenna ducked her head and Ewart looked away. “I
think he might do.” Kane nodded slowly. “That’s if you’ll vouch for him Dasid.”

“I’ll do that. Now Ronan,”
Dasid turned to the boy. “You must not tell anyone you are secretly working
with us.” Ronan nodded, his expression serious. “Anything you hear us talk
about must not be repeated unless you have our permission.”

“Yes sir,” Ronan said. “I
can be trusted.”

“In secret,” Kane said.

“In secret,” Ronan echoed.

“Now go to bed Ronan. And
not a word of this to your mother,” Dasid ruffled the boy’s hair before he
scurried from the room.

“I think that’s all for us
as well,” Kane said, rising. He held out a hand to Brenna and pulled her to her
feet. “Don’t wake us too early, my queen needs her rest.” He laughed when
Brenna scowled at him.

 

Kane watched Brenna wander
from chair to bench to table, her hand trailing the tops of the furniture.

“It won’t help, you know,”
he said as she peered out the window again. “It won’t make Dasid and Gaskain
get here any faster.”

The coronation had been a
week ago and Dasid had gone to the ferry crossing. The only attempt to regain
the ferry had come before the coronation but they expected another now that
Beldyn had been crowned and Thorold named regent. Along with a change of guards,
Dasid would try determine what else they needed to do to keep the crossing
secure. Sergeant Murdoch would stay behind and take charge, replacing Gaskain,
who would return to Silverdale with Dasid.

Smith Innis was finally
satisfied that both he and the forge were ready to create old steel. Kane had
suggested he start with new swords for Dasid and Gaskain - Brenna had spent
time with both men before they’d lost their old swords and they all hoped that
her familiarity with them would help her know if the forging process was succeeding.
That couldn’t start until Dasid and Gaskain arrived.

“I need to do something.”
Brenna flopped down in the chair beside his and put her hands on her chin.

“You make a terrible
soldier,” he said.

She looked up at him and
he raised his eyebrows.

“In less than six weeks
we’ve accomplished so much more than I had hoped; three thousand troops are housed
and have begun their training; housing for their families is well under way;
there are eight healers and a well-stocked infirmary; food and other provisions
are being shipped in from Aruntun and now we are ready to create more old steel
weapons. And though you have declared yourself queen and neither Aruntun nor
Fallad support him, there has been no sign that Thorold plans to wage war
before spring. That gives us almost five months to prepare our recruits for battle.
You need to get better at waiting.”

“I’m not used to letting
others do so much for me.”

“It’s not for you, though,
it’s for Soule.” Kane reached a hand out and she took it. “You need to let
people do what they’re trained to do.”

“Yes, but I don’t get to
do what I’ve been trained to do. I don’t get to heal, I don’t need to use
magic, there isn’t even any need for me to use my thieving skills.”

“I hope not,” Kane said. “It
would be awkward if the queen was caught stealing.”

“I know, don’t worry. But
I am definitely losing my skills.” Brenna looked over at him. “And I know I
don’t need to steal but thieving is a part of who I am.”

“Yes, but so is being a
healer, so is being a witch and so is being queen.”

“An unusual combination,
isn’t it?” Brenna grinned.

“I always thought so,” he replied.

She shrugged and stood up.
“I can’t just wait around here any more. It’s been far too long since spent
time with Blaze - I’m going for a ride.” She looked at him sideways. “Want to
come?”

Kane nodded. It would be
good to get outside of the city.

“What do you say we pack a
bedroll and camp out tonight?” he asked. Her smile was all the answer he
needed. He’d let Ewart know they’d be gone - Dasid was due later today - he
could handle anything urgent that might arise.

 

Brenna reached down and
patted Blaze, feeling better than she had in days. It was a glorious, late fall
day and the bright sun warmed up the afternoon. She sighed as Kane trotted up
to her on Runner.

“Can we camp near the
river?” she asked. “While I’m out here I might as well see if I can find some
herbs.” She shaded her eyes as Kane reined in Runner. “It’s the right time of
year for a few things I’m running short of.”

Brenna had always enjoyed gathering
her own herbs. She didn’t need to, she could buy what she needed from others,
but it helped her feel closer to her healing when she gathered the supplies
herself. And it reminded her of the few truly happy days of her childhood when
she and he mother had been allowed out to forage.

“Let’s find a spot where
we can do some fishing,” Kane said.

He grinned and Brenna was
struck by how much younger he seemed out here with just the two of them. At
times she forgot that Kane wasn’t more than a few years older than she was.
He’d been in a position of authority for most of his life - it was part of who
he was and he wore that command easily. No doubt he found her own struggles to
accept the authority and duties that came with being queen irritating.

“I didn’t know you could
fish,” Brenna said as she brought Blaze up beside Runner and they walked
towards the river. “And last fall we spent quite a lot of time travelling close
to the river.”

“I’m not very good at it,”
Kane said. “And as I recall, we needed to make good speed and be more certain
of our meals.”

“Are you saying we may not
eat fish?”

“I’ve already admitted to
not being a very good fisherman,” Kane said. “But ending up with dinner isn’t
always the purpose of fishing,” Kane said. “At least that’s what Ewart’s father
told me. He’s the one who taught me to fish. He never worried about what he
caught, only about enjoying the act of fishing. Fishing is about patience,
something you need more of.”

“Patience,” Brenna mumbled.
So far she wasn’t very impressed. “I’m not sure I want to learn patience. Where
I come from there’s no point in doing anything that won’t result in something
that can either fill your belly or put a roof over your head.”

“And you always follow
that rule when you’re healing?” Kane asked.

She shook her head. No,
when she was healing she didn’t think about what she might get out of it - all
she worried about was helping the patient.

 

Brenna flicked the end of
the willow branch and watched the line swish back and forth in the water. Kane
had fashioned some poles and tied some thin string to them, threading a nasty
looking steel hook through each end. Then he’d dug into his pack for some dried
mutton and skewered small pieces onto the hook. He swore it was what he’d been
taught to use but Brenna wondered if a fish would find the mutton appealing.
She lifted the hook from the water and frowned at the wet lump of meat dangling
off the hook. Letting it fall back into the river, she looked over at Kane
where he lay propped up against the river bank. His legs were stretched out and
his fishing pole was stuck into the dirt at his side.

“It’s been at least an
hour,” she said, squinting up at the sun. “Shouldn’t we have caught something
by now?”

“Be patient, Brenna.”
Kane’s voice was muffled by his jacket, which he had thrown over his head to
block the sun. “Just take a deep breath and relax.”

She tried to, really she
did. Half an hour later she looked over at Kane and grunted in disgust. He was
asleep. In the middle of the day he was asleep and she was left holding onto a
fishing pole that would probably never catch a fish. Frustrated, Brenna jammed
the end of her pole into the soft dirt near the river and crawled over to Kane.
Gently, she lifted his coat off him and stared, willing him to open his eyes
and talk to her.

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