Queen (Brotherhood of the Throne) (21 page)

There was no sound, no smell, just
the red orange glow. And the heat. Brenna wiped her brow and her hand came away
damp and black with soot. She was standing high up, on a roof maybe, somewhere
in Kingsreach. She looked out across a sea of flames as a great swathe of the
city burned. Thieves Quarter. She knew in her heart that the Quarter was on fire.
Somehow she was close enough to recognize some of the buildings and her panic
started to build. She turned her head, left then right, searching for familiar
landmarks. There, to the west, was it? She thought she could make out the
flame-engulfed form of the Crooked Dog.

“Kane,” she cried, her whole being
reaching out to him. “Kane, where are you?” She thought she heard a brief
answer and her racing heart slowed. The vision faded and she settled back into
an uneasy sleep.

Kane woke with a start, his heart
pounding, Brenna’s name on his lips and his hand on his sword hilt.

“Easy, Kane. There’s no need to be
waving that thing around in the dark.”

Kane recognized Eryl’s voice and he
relaxed.

“I’m all right, Eryl.” Shakily,
Kane slid his sword back into its scabbard. Though he’d been fast asleep, he’d
drawn the sword by instinct and training. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“Yeah well, you have warned me
before about startling you when you were asleep,” Eryl said. “I figured what
with you calling out Brenna’s name it might take a while for you to recall that
I’m a friend.”

“I called out for Brenna?” Kane
asked, trying to remember what had woken him. “Yes, I remember. She was afraid,
but not for herself. And there were flames, lots of flames.” He rubbed his eyes
and stared out into the dark of the cavern.

“Maybe she was afraid for you?”
Eryl asked and Kane tested that, the trying to feel if Brenna’s fear was for
him.

“That could be it,” he said. “It
feels almost right.”

“Could she know we’re in trouble?
Brenna’s always been smart and now that she’s got all that magic …” Eryl’s
voice trailed away in the dark.

“She’s been told not to use her
magic,” Kane said. “It’s far too dangerous until she gets out of the
mountains.”

“Huh,” Eryl grunted. “And Brenna always
does what she’s told. Besides, the way her magic’s been coming on maybe she
didn’t use it, it used her.”

“Her magic used her?” Kane sat up.
“I think you’re right. Brenna had a Seeing, a vision, a while ago. In it she
saw Thieves Quarter burn. I think that what happened last night might have set
those events into motion.”

“You think the Quarter will catch
fire?”

“No, I think the Quarter will be
set
on fire. Thorold wants me out of the way and we know from what Beldyn has said that
he doesn’t care what happens to the people of the Quarter. Especially now that
they’re eating all the food he’d planned to buy his army with.”

“Do you have any idea when this
will happen?”

“I’m not sure, but soon, I think.
We’ll need to warn people.” If he had no other choice Kane would contact Brenna
to get the word out, he’d have to. Neither one of them would ever forgive him
if he didn’t and hundreds of people died. But not now, not today. Seeings
always taxed her energy and she needed as much as she could get. She would be close
to the highest elevation of her trip through the mountains. In just another day
or two she’d be on her way down. Then he’d try to contact her and have her warn
the others. Then he’d ask her why by the old gods he was now sharing her visions.
Kane settled his back against the cold stone of the tunnel wall and waited for
night to fall. Whatever the risk to Eryl and himself, they did not have the
luxury of hiding out another day.

twelve

Thorold
narrowed his eyes and looked at the two of them - his son and his captain. He’d
never had high expectations of Beldyn, not since he’d been a little boy
clinging to his mother’s skirts. Barton, on the other hand, had shown great
promise.

“Captain Barton, explain to me how
the occupants managed to escape when you had over an hour to surround the inn
and take them.”

“I have no defense, my Lord,”
Barton said, his head hanging low. “I have failed.”

“Yes, you have,” Thorold said. “But
at least you acknowledge your failings.” He turned to glare at Beldyn. “Whereas
you, my King, have deliberately plotted against me. I should have you hung.”

“On what charges?” Beldyn glared at
him. “I’m king  - you can’t charge me with crimes against the crown.”

Thorold
sat
back in his chair and frowned at his son. The boy was becoming a problem.
“Perhaps I should send you to the High Bishop for some religious instruction.”
He smiled when Beldyn’s face paled. “Don’t worry. I hear the High Bishop is quite
skilled – he will not leave any visible marks. I want to know what you were
doing at that vile inn. Who were you meeting with?”

Beldyn stared at the floor,
ignoring the question. Thorold nodded at Captain Barton. Barton had to redeem
himself and he could teach two lessons at once.

“Bring in our guest, Captain,” he
said and Barton left the room. Thorold continued to stare at his son. Did he
still need him to validate his hold on the throne? Perhaps he could arrange for
his son to have an accident - one that didn’t kill him but left him
incapacitated.  As regent he would then have all the power.  “You will tell me.
I will not have you working against me Beldyn,” Thorold said.

“What did you expect Father?”
Beldyn asked. “Whether you like to admit it or not, I’m your son.”

“Yes, but I do have another.”

The door opened and Thorold smiled when Beldyn’s face paled even more. The whimpering was distracting, of
course, and when he looked closely at what Barton was dragging into the room he
knew that it was past rational thought.

“Well my king, this is what happens
to those who help you,” Thorold said.

Impassively Barton brought his
prisoner to a stop directly in front of Beldyn.

“Take a good, long look,” Thorold
said.

“She didn’t do anything,” Beldyn whispered.
“She was innocent.”

“Oh my boy, she was a prostitute,
I’d hardly describe that as innocent. I will say that the High Bishop
eventually came to the conclusion that she didn’t know anything. Not even who
you are.” Thorold stood and walked over to the quivering mass of bloody flesh
that once had been a woman. “But what she is now is a lesson.” He flipped her
hair back to show the bloody and burnt holes where her eyes had been. Letting
her hair fall back over her face, he stepped away from the stench of burned
flesh to stand in front of his son.

“You will tell me who you were
visiting and why.” His voice shook with anger but Beldyn didn’t flinch.
Stepping back, Thorold nodded to Barton. “Kill her.”

 The captain took his knife and
quickly slit the woman’s throat.

“Captain, to fully regain my trust you
must find out who was in that inn and bring them to me, dead or alive. Do
whatever it takes. You,” he turned to his son. “Will be spending time with the
High Bishop if you don’t tell me who you were meeting. Until then you will be
confined to your quarters and guarded.” Thorold stepped back towards the door,
careful to avoid the pooling blood. “Have someone clean this up.”

Even though she’d just woken up, Brenna
was exhausted. Her lungs literally ached from trying to breath. Still in her
bedroll, she rummaged through her pack for a libo nut. She chewed it slowly,
trying to get as much benefit as she could. She stopped herself when she caught
herself spelling it to work better. Sighing, she climbed out of her bedding and
bundled it up.

The rest of the camp looked almost
ready to travel. Dasid waved her over to a fire.

“Here’s your tea,” he said as he
handed her a steaming mug. “Drink up and then we’ll be off.”

She took a sip and grimaced. You’d
think she’d get used to the foul brew by now but she still had to force down
each mouthful. It did help and between the tea and the libo nut she was able to
take a reasonably deep breath.

“We’ll reach the peak today, won’t
we?” she asked.

“This morning, by my figuring,”
Dasid said. “Then it’s downhill. From the map it looks to be a fairly sharp
drop. Tonight’s camp should at a lower elevation than this one.  Are you going
to be all right?”

“Yes.” Brenna nodded. She drained
her mug and squared her shoulders. “I have to be, don’t I? After all, this was
my idea.” She flashed a grin at Dasid and he smiled back before turning and heading
back to the wagons. Brenna found Pater and climbed up to sit beside him on the
wagon seat. She should feel more rested tomorrow than she felt today. They
would be passing close to Blackwall the next day and coming so close to the
town made her uneasy, especially since she had so little energy for magic.

It was pitch black when he opened
his eyes. Kane froze – he wasn’t at the Dog - then he remembered. They were in
a tunnel, one of the Brotherhood’s tunnels that he’d played in a as a boy. Kane
fumbled for the candle stub and flint and soon a small pool of light bathed the
tunnel. He looked over and met Eryl’s open eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about how to
get the word out,” Kane said. If it was one of Brenna’s visions he’d shared
last night they might not have much time. “We’ll start with Marcus. You’ll need
to go. We don’t know if Thorold is looking for you but we can be pretty certain
that he’s looking for me.”

“I know where to find Marcus.”

“And then the inn owners,” Kane
said. “What was the name of the woman who owned the inn the healer was killed
in?”

“Mistress Mundy at the Wheat
Sheaf,” Eryl said. “But I doubt she’ll believe me.”

“She’ll believe me,” Kane said.
“She met me when I was still Captain of the Kingsguard.”

“She never much cared for me,” Eryl
said.

“I helped Brenna - I think she’ll trust
me,” Kane said. “I just need to get to her. We’ll wait until we think it’s
night before we leave the tunnel. Afterwards we should each find a safe place
to hide or a way out of the city, if we can. We can meet up at Ewart’s in
Silverdale.”

The candle didn’t last long. After
only a few hours it sputtered and went out, leaving Kane and Eryl in darkness.
Finally, when Kane guessed that enough time had passed, they felt their way to
the entrance. They stepped out into dusk on a crisp fall night.

Kane touched Eryl’s arm and the two
of them slipped quietly down to the riverbank. The trees, still in full leaf
this far south, would provide some cover as they headed back towards Thieves
Quarter.

Kane peered through the underbrush at
the narrow lane. As he’d hoped, the service lane was empty this late in the
day. He watched for another half hour before he motioned to Eryl.

“This is where we part,” Kane said,
leaning in close. “Go north. This lane will take you to the merchant’s
district.”

With a quick nod, Eryl was off.
Kane watched the thief’s shadow edge along the lane for a few moments before it
disappeared from his sight. After another quarter hour Kane rose and crossed
the lane, heading east. Getting back into Thieves Quarter would not be easy.

In the end his opportunity came
during the guard change. Kane was appalled by the lack of discipline in the
Kingsguard even as he thanked Jik for it. He’d found a doorway to huddle in as
he surveyed two guards at the end of a street. After eyeing the roof tops and
wishing for Brenna’s ability to climb and travel unnoticed above the city, he’d
settled in to wait for his chance. Half an hour before he thought the guard
change would happen, they had surprised Kane by walking away from their post.

He was so startled that it took him
a moment to react. Then - his heart in his throat - he’d sprinted past the corner
where the guards had been stationed before edging into an alley. He held his
breath as the next pair of guards walked past his hiding place to take up their
positions.

Carefully, Kane backed down the
alley and entered a small courtyard. After a quick survey of the area he opened
the door to what looked like a small stable and slipped inside. Amid the stale odors
of horse piss and manure, he gingerly felt his way in the dark until he found
an empty stall. He propped himself up against the back of the stall with the
door in his sights and waited for daylight.

Brenna thought she felt when they
started travelling downhill. The road they were following wound through rocky
outcroppings and they’d been traveling up and then down for almost half of the
day. Now, nearing noon, she felt a subtle difference.

“I think we’re on the way down now,
Pater,” she said.

“That’d be a good thing fer all of
us, you especially,” Pater replied. “Do you need to stop and have some more
tea?” Brenna grimaced and Pater laughed. “Well, it ain’t so pleasant for those
of us sittin’ aside ye, so I imagine it ain’t pleasant to drink.”

“You never said my breath smelled,”
Brenna said, holding her hand up to her mouth. She blew into it and wrinkled
her nose at what she smelled.

“Pah. Ye saved my life. What’s a
little bad breath? Asides, we all know it can’t be helped.”

“But it can be helped. Does
everyone know about my breath?” Brenna was mortified. How could they just let
her walk around like that? “I can chew on mint,” she said as she rummaged
through her pack. She found the small packet of mint leaves and quickly pulled a
couple out. “Pater, how could you let me walk around smelling so badly?”

“Well, it wasn’t like we want ye to
smell, or we was happy ye smell,” Pater said. “But we all agreed, leastaways me
and Dasid did, that ye needed to take yer medicine. We didn’t want to say
anything that might make ye hesitate on that.”

“Next time don’t assume I don’t
know what I need to do.” Brenna glared at him. “I’m a healer. I know the
importance of using remedies. Including ones for bad breath.” She rolled the
mint leaves around in her mouth, feeling them soften and release the tangy
flavour onto her tongue. Another couple of these and her breath should be much
more pleasant.

“Sorry, we forgot that, Dasid and
me,” Pater said. “We was jes worried, is all. And that mint is already havin’
an effect, I can tell you.” Pater drew in a big breath and grinned at her.
Brenna couldn’t help smiling back. After all, she should be through the worst
of the altitude illness.

As the afternoon wore on, Brenna’s
breathing became easier and easier. They made camp when it was near dark. After
drinking her tea and chewing on two more mint leaves she rolled up in her
bedding to sleep. She fell into a deep sleep, feeling better than she had in
days.

It was early evening by the time
Kane rounded the corner of the inn and headed to the back gate. Even the Wheat
Sheaf was quiet, though the smells of cooking wafting through the kitchen door
made his stomach rumble. It had been almost twenty-four hours since he’d last
eaten and the only water he’d been able to snatch was what he’d found in a
stable.

The kitchen door opened and a shaft
of light spilled out into the yard. When he recognized the solid form of Mistress
Mundy pumping water into a bucket, Kane stepped forward.

“Mistress Mundy,” he said quietly.

She stopped pumping and turned to
stare at him. Her hands start to shake and Kane rushed forward to grab the
wooden bucket before it could drop to the hard-packed dirt of the yard.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he
said.

“But you’re Kingsguard, I
remember,” she said, backing away slightly.

“I was,” Kane corrected, saddened
by her fear of the Kingsguard. “And a friend of Brenna’s.”

“Yes, that’s right. You helped her
when the church was after her,” Mistress Mundy said. “Do you know where she is?
Is she all right?”

“She’s fine,” Kane said.

Mistress Mundy let out a breath and
relaxed. “I heard rumours that she’s to be queen. That she’ll come save us from
Duke Thorold and the church. I only wish it were true.”

“It is true,” Kane said. “But we
can’t talk about it out here.” He looked towards the kitchen door and then back
at Mistress Mundy.

She met his eyes, then nodded
nervously. “I suppose if I’m wrong about you it’s too late for me anyway,” she
said as she turned towards the kitchen door. “And I’m so tired of not trusting
anyone. At least I know you helped Brenna and she
is
someone trust.”

Kane followed her into the kitchen
and placed the half full bucket on a table near the door. He gestured to the
door that led from the kitchen into the tavern.