Queen (Brotherhood of the Throne) (28 page)

“
The day after
t
omorrow,
Gaskain says. He and Ewart will both go with it, Jemma as well.
And
Kane, Jemma had a very difficult time with the discussion about Beldyn
.”
Brenna paused. “
It took me a while to calm her down after she learned he’d
been taken to the High Bishop
.”

“
I didn’t realize they were that
close
,” Kane said. “
Will it affect her ability to relay information
?”

“
I’m not sure. She says no but I
might need to modify information about Beldyn before I pass it along
,”
Brenna said, and he could feel her sigh.

“
You do as you see fit
,”
Kane said. “
I’ll continue to give you all the information I have. Now, what do
I need to tell Marcus? And what about your own plans, when do you expect to
meet with King Mannel
?”

Brenna finally set her knife aside.
Again she’d opted to sit in the hammock in Captain Filbee’s cabin. The gentle
swaying soothed her and it she didn’t have to contend with the lurching deck.

“Kane plans on being at the
ceremony to name Beldyn’s heir,” Brenna said with a frown. “He was confident
that the crowd would be large enough that he’ll be in no danger, but all it
would take is one Kingsguard recognizing him.”

“He’ll be fine,” Dasid said. “He’s
done this before.”

“Yes,” Brenna agreed. “But I don’t
like it.” Then she pushed away her concerns. They had other plans to formulate
today. “He was pleased to hear we’d made such good time and would be putting
into Whitehaven later.” And she wasn’t lying, really. He had been pleased about
that but he’d also been worried about her. She’d talk to Dasid. Kane wasn’t
sure they should trust Captain Filbee on the strength of his word alone. He was
a Langemorian, despite what he’d said about being of the sea first.

“Aye, I should be able to get word
to King Mannel and arrange a meeting in a few days,” Filbee said. “I’ll be
proud to help, just as Captain Chaffer said I should.”

“We need Brenna’s identity kept a
secret,” Dasid said. “No one else can know she’s here. We have no proof that
Thorold has men stationed Langemore but it’s a safe bet he has at least one spy
- one with instructions to get rid of anyone with ties to Brenna or Ewart.”

“Yes, yes,” Filbee said. “I know
just who to approach. It will all be very discreet, I assure you.”

Brenna nodded and slipped from the
hammock.

“Thank you Captain Filbee,” she
said. “I’ll leave that in your capable hands. If you’ll excuse me, I have a few
things to do before we land.” As she headed down the hallway, she touched her
hand to her knife.

“
Dasid
,” she called to him. “
Meet
me in the cabin. We have our own plans to make
.”

The city grew larger as the ship
was towed in to the harbour. Not as big as Kingsreach, Whitehaven was nevertheless
a good-sized city. Warehouses and shipyards sprawled along the edge of the sea
and blocky, white houses led up toward the low hill the castle stood on. Brenna
smiled when the setting sun hit the castle towers, bathing the walls a deep
shade of pink. She waited until they were almost at the dock before she headed
back to her cabin.

“
It’s time
,” she sent to
Dasid and Wils. “
I’ll look for an inn where we can meet and let you know how
to find me
.”

“
We’ll come if we’re able,
”
Dasid said.

They were worried that once Brenna
was gone Captain Filbee might not be so eager to help. He
seemed
genuine
but with so much at stake, Brenna couldn’t afford to trust someone she hardly
knew. She’d learned that lesson with Westley Stobert.

Brenna jammed her clothes and
jacket into her pack and tied it closed. Just in case, she recited a spell to
keep the water out before slinging the pack over her shoulders. She didn’t plan
on getting wet but she couldn’t chance ruining her healing supplies. She
whispered the invisibility spell and her vision dulled as the spell settled
over her.

Instead of risking her unsteady sea
legs, once up on the deck, Brenna dropped to her knees.  She had to dodge a few
sailors but she was able to crawl to an empty section of the railing.

Two dinghies were towing the
Swiftsure to the dock and she slipped over the railing and grabbed a hold of a thick
tow rope that stretched down to one of the dinghies. She swung her legs up and inched
out over the water down the rope. She almost fell when the rope was transferred
from the dinghy to a group of men waiting on the dock. They heaved on the rope
and the bow of the Swiftsure nudged towards the dock.

Just when Brenna thought she
couldn’t hold on any longer, the dock was under her. She dropped down to the
wooden planks with a soft thud and scuttled out of the way of the men pulling
in the ship. She stood up and turned to look back at the ship. She could
clearly see her companions lined along the railing.

“
I’m on the dock
,” she
signaled to Dasid.

She grinned when she saw him raise
a hand. Then, her excitement building, she turned and walked into Whitehaven.

Brenna smiled as she picked her way
among the crowd. It was dusk, her favorite time of day - that transition period
when vendors packed up their goods and headed off for their homes and the night
folk were just starting to come out. She stepped back as a pie cart was pushed
past her. A lone prostitute watched the vendor with a bored flick of her hair.
Turning a corner, Brenna found a quiet spot and lifted the invisibility spell
before heading back to the busier street.

“Excuse me,” Brenna asked, holding
up a coin. “Do you know where I can find a decent inn?”

“Do I look like I stay in a decent
inn?” the woman turned to Brenna.

Eyes lined with kohl widened when
she saw the coin that was being held out to her. Brenna pulled the coin back
when the prostitute reached a hand towards it.

“You look like you know where some
one can get a clean bed and good food for a decent price, yes,” Brenna said.

“Aye.” The other woman looked her
over. “That would be the White Whale, two streets over and left along the back
alley.”

“Thank you,” Brenna said. She held
out the coin.

The prostitute snatched it and
tucked it into her clothing before she turned and wandered down the street.

Brenna headed in the opposite
direction. A few minutes later she stopped at the mouth of an alley. Halfway
down a worn sign painted with a white whale, the white paint peeling away to
reveal weathered wood beneath, hung over a solid wooden door. Brenna eased back
into a shadow and crouched down to watch the entrance to the inn.

Brenna stood up and stretched. Her
limbs and muscles ached from sitting still for a quarter hour, something she’d
been able to do without any trouble as a thief.

The pub connected to the inn was
doing a very fine business for supper - there had been a steady stream of men
and women entering and leaving. Each time the door had opened the noises from
inside had sounded jovial and friendly - not once had she heard anything that
sounded like a fight or even a voice raised in anger. Time to contact Dasid.

“
Dasid, I’ve found an inn
,”
she said. “
Does Captain Filbee know I’m missing
?”

“
Brenna
,” Dasid replied. “
Yes
the good captain knows you’re missing. He’s displeased but only because you
don’t trust him. He’s made no efforts to detain us. He has in fact restated his
offer of a place to stay, and I’ve accepted. All but Wils, Pater and I will stay
there
. He’s also agreed to help them search for the prisoners from
Kingsreach
.”

“
That is excellent
,” Brenna
said. “
I’ve found an inn. It’s called the White Whale. I’m going to take a
room. Meet me here later. I’ll do some scouting but will be back well before
dawn
.”

“
Be careful
,” Dasid said.

Brenna checked the alley for signs
of anything unusual before she strolled casually to the door of the White
Whale. She pushed the door open and entered.

The room was bright, lit by a big
fire in the hearth and half a dozen lamps fastened to the walls. Behind the bar
a tall woman in a crisp, white apron poured ale into large jugs - the froth
spilled over the sides of the jugs and pooled onto the wood in front of her. A
lad took a jug in each hand and hurried over to a table. He waited politely for
the patrons to fish some coin out for him before he headed back to the bar,
dropped the coins into a small mug and pick up two more jugs.

Brenna walked up to the bar and
waited quietly while the woman finished pouring.

“What can I do for you?” the woman
said, wiping her hands on her apron.

“I need a room,” Brenna said.
“Something with a window. And fresh bedding.”

The innkeep looked up and frowned. “I
always have fresh bedding.”

“Good. Can you also supply a bath?”

The innkeep nodded and Brenna sighed.
On the Swiftsure she’d been able to scrub herself with cold seawater, but a hot
bath would be wonderful after weeks of travel.

 “How much?” Brenna asked. They
haggled over the price for a few minutes but when the innkeep added a bowl of
fish stew and a mug of ale, Brenna finally agreed. It was more than she’d
wanted to pay but the inn looked well-run and clean, and the bath would be
worth the extra coin. She was planning on meeting with a king, after all.

Brenna sat down at a bench that
hugged the wall and afforded her a view of the whole room. She placed her hands
on the large communal table in front of her. Two men at her table looked her
over for a moment before they went back to their discussion.

Brenna relaxed and surveyed the
room - she missed being not noticed, missed being someone others ignored. It
made her feel safe and comfortable and somehow more like herself. She shook her
head. It made her feel like the old her - the thief who could steal into any
room, the healer who helped folk even if they couldn’t pay. Now she was a queen
and everyone noticed her. She smiled. But right this minute she was just
another patron at the White Whale ready to enjoy a meal and a bath. 

The lad put a bowl of stew and a slice
of bread down in front of her and Brenna sighed. The stew was fragrant with
thyme and garlic. She picked up the spoon and scooped some into her mouth.

“Here’s your ale,” the lad said as
he set the mug down on the table. “Mistress Millings says your bath will be
ready by the time you finish your supper.”

Brenna smiled and dug out a small
coin. “Thank you.” She ate another spoonful of stew as the lad walked away.
When she’d soaked up the last drop of gravy with bread, Brenna rose and headed
up the stairs.

Hers was the last door on the
right, the innkeep had said, and when she pushed the door open she sighed at
the sight of a large tub of water standing in front of a lit fireplace. She walked
around the room checking that the window and door were locked. Brenna dropped
her pack onto the narrow bed and pulled out a handful of mint leaves. She
rubbed her hands together, crushing the leaves into the steaming water. By the
time she’d undressed and slid into the tub, the scent was already energizing
her.

The water had cooled and she was
contemplating getting out when a soft knock came at the door.

“Just wondering if you still need
the tub, Mistress?” a woman asked.

“Oh, just a moment, I’ll get out.”
Brenna stood up, the cooled water sluicing off her, and grabbed a cloth to dry
herself with. She didn’t want the staff coming back later to fetch the tub to wonder
how their guest had left the room without coming down the stairs. She dressed quickly
and opened the door to the hall to let the two girls come and fetch the tub.

Once they were gone she pulled her
black vest on and reached into her pack for her soft-soled slippers. Now she
was ready for some night work. She slung her pack over her shoulder and gently
eased the window open. Night had fallen - it was time to find King Mannel and
see what Duke Thorold meant to him.

sixteen

Brenna inched back from the edge.
She lay on a flat roof, one of many she’d traveled over in the last few hours. This
one was part of the castle. She peered up at the tower that loomed over her,
worried that despite her black clothing, someone looking out the window might
see her. She wasn’t ready to use a spell, at least not yet, not when her thief
skills were enough. Besides, it would feel like cheating. She’d spent years
doing this exact same thing without magic and right now she was enjoying the
challenge of avoiding the guards, of remaining quiet and still and then figuring
out the best way to get to the next roof, the next vantage point.

She rose to a crouch and sprinted to
a spot across from the next window. Lying flat, she wormed her way forward
until she could see into the room across from her. A blond man wearing a white
fur vest and black silk breeches rose from a chair and walked out of her view. King
Mannel, Brenna thought. This man was the right age and dressed finely enough. If
she were king she’d want a room in one of the highest towers. Growing up she’d
often spied on Duke Thorold, hidden away on the roof so that she could see into
his tower room. 

A short while later the man she
hoped was Mannel returned with a glass in one hand and sat back down. For half
an hour he simply sipped his drink and studied a piece of paper that he held in
his other hand. Abruptly he threw the paper to the floor and Brenna clearly
heard him curse Thorold’s name. That was enough proof for her that Mannel
wasn’t committed to Thorold – at least not yet. Brenna had started to shimmy
back from the edge of the roof when she heard another voice inside the room.

“But what about me?” a female voice
asked. “I’m to wed him.”

“I’ll not give you to a man who
can’t keep his own land together,” the man said.

A pretty, young blonde walked into
view, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re giving me to the son, not the
father,” she said.

“Same thing, I’m afraid. Reports
say that the boy only does what his father tells him.”

“But I could help him.”

“No doubt you could Evlan, but
would it be enough? You’re too precious for me to risk and too tempting a prize
for Thorold.”

As she watched King Mannel and his
daughter argue, Brenna made a decision. She eased back to the edge of the roof
and studied the window and the walls opposite her. She’d need to enter by the
window - the corridors outside the room would be too well-guarded. She backed
away from the edge of the roof and into a shadow. 

Less than half an hour later she
was perched on the roof directly above the window where she’d seen King Mannel
and his daughter. She muttered the invisibility spell before craning her neck
to see over the edge. Despite the late hour the light still shone brightly in
the room below. From her vantage, she could only see a few feet into the room,
but she didn’t hear anything.

Brenna eased away from the window.
She uncoiled her rope and secured it to a chimney before letting the other end
snake down beside the window. With her hands firmly grasping the rope, she
slipped over the edge of the roof, gently easing herself down until her feet
met the window casement. She crouched and grabbed the window frame before
pushing the rope to one side. Silently, Brenna nudged the window open and
slipped inside.

“What was that?” King Mannel
stepped into an open doorway and peered into the room.

Brenna carefully backed away from
the window, trying not touch the fabric of the curtains or bump into any
furniture.

“I didn’t hear anything, Father -
you’re just trying to evade my questions.”

Brenna moved into a corner as
Mannel entered the room.

“Was that window open before?” he
asked.

His daughter huddled into his back,
suddenly nervous.

“No, I opened it,” Brenna dropped
her spell and stepped into the center of the room. “Please don’t call the
guards,” she said.

King Mannel squared his shoulders as
if to hide his daughter.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“My name is Brenna Trewen.” Brenna
bowed her head.

“The Queen?” Evlan peered over her
father’s shoulder. “Are you the one who was crowned Queen in Silverdale?”

“I am. I think we have much to talk
about, we three.” Brenna met Mannel’s gaze and held it and his grim features
seemed to soften.

“If you are who you say you are, we
do indeed have much to talk about.”

Brenna let out a long breath.

“I’m glad to know I’m not the only
one who was nervous,” Mannel said and laughed. “Now, lass, I need some proof
that you are who you say you are. And I want to know how you got into my tower
room. If you promise not to slit my throat I’ll ask that you and come sit so we
can talk.”

“I promise not to harm you,” Brenna
said.

Mannel lost his smile and his face
stilled at her solemn tone. Perhaps he had assumed that she couldn’t hurt him,
she thought as she took a seat. To confirm her pledge she unsheathed her knife
and laid it on the table, where it glittered in the firelight. As for the proof
he’d asked for, she pulled her pack off, took the coronet out and placed it
beside the knife. Once out in the open the coronet began to glow until it was
brighter than the lamps.

“It does seem to settle down on its
own after I’ve worn it a bit,” Brenna said. “But I can control it.” And she
reached
for the coronet and darkened it.

“What is that?” asked Evlan, her
eyes wide. “Are you a witch?”

“That, if I’m not mistaken, is the
old crown of Soule,” Mannel said and Brenna nodded. “It’s been lost for a very
long time, if my history serves me.”

“For hundreds of years,” Brenna
agreed. “Since the last king to follow the old gods died. And yes.” She met
Evlan’s blue eyes. “I am a witch. My grandmother is sister to Duchess Avery of
Aruntun.”

Mannel’s eyebrows lifted. “So that
is how you gained her support so readily. And Ewart?”

“A cousin, on my father’s side,”
Brenna said. “My mother’s father is of the royal line, not legitimate of
course, and my father’s father is Duke Thorold.”

“But not legitimate,” Mannel said.

“None of it, except for the Aruntian
lineage. The women of Aruntun’s line never marry.”

Mannel’s eyebrows went even higher.

“What do you mean they never
marry?” Evlan asked. “How is succession secured?”

“The title has always been held by
a woman. The Duchess does not marry. She takes a consort who is husband in all
but name, yet has no claim to the dukedom,” Brenna said. “A girl is always
named heir, so I’ve been told.”

“And never a man? Father, is that
true? How can that be?”

“It’s true that the current Duchess
was the heir of another Duchess,” Mannel said.

“The records in Kingsreach never
once mention a Duke of Aruntun,” Brenna said. Dasid is the one who had
confirmed that. She should contact him, she realized. “If you don’t mind, I
need to touch my knife for a moment.” She reached out and settled her hand on
her knife, calling Dasid as she did.

“
Brenna, are you all right? I
was expecting you back by now
,” Dasid said.

“
I’m fine. I’m talking with King
Mannel and his daughter Evlan
.” Dasid cursed and she continued. “
They
seem very receptive so far
.”

“
Be careful. You don’t know what
you’re dealing with yet
.”

“
This is why we undertook this
trip
,” she replied. “
You’re at the White Whale? I’ll meet you back there
soon
.”

“What just happened,” Mannel said
when she dropped her hand from her knife. “More witchery?”

“Yes. Of a sort. I’m able to
contact some of my men through old weapons.” She gestured to her knife. “I was
letting my lieutenant know that I was safe, for now.”

“He’s in the city?”

“Yes, but I can contact people as
far away as Kingsreach and Smithin.”

“A useful skill,” Mannel said,
sipping his brandy.

“So I’ve found,” Brenna replied.
She settled her shoulders and met King Mannel’s eyes. “I’ve come to discuss
Duke Thorold and any agreement you may have with him.”

“I’m not sure it’s a concern of
yours,” Mannel said, shushing his daughter when she was about to speak. “It’s
an agreement between rulers.”

“Except Duke Thorold is not the one
wearing the crown, Beldyn is. And there a few things Duke Thorold may not have
told you.”

“And you will enlighten me, I
suppose?”

“Yes.” Brenna took a deep breath.
It was important that she convince this man to remain neutral, she had to make
sure he withheld his troops from Thorold. “The first thing you need to be aware
of is that Duke Thorold killed King Mattias.”

“How do you know this?” Mannel
demanded. “His former captain was charged with that crime. He was found adding
zarid to Mattias’ wine, was he not?”

“Yes, because it’s the only known
antidote to trefell,” Brenna said. “Thorold had been poisoning Mattias for
years. Feiren Rowse was loyal to his king to the end.” Brenna couldn’t quite
keep her grief out of her voice. She still missed Feiren.

“Why should I believe you?” Mannel
asked. “You could be lying about this.”

“I might be,” Brenna replied. “I’m
not, but I might be. Here.” She opened her pack out and started pulling herbs
and salves out of it. Finally, she pulled out the mortar and pestle out. It
glowed with the same light the coronet had.

“More magic?” Mannel asked.

“Tools of my trade,” Brenna
replied. “I’m a healer. I was trained by my mother who was Duke Thorold’s
indentured servant. Unlawfully indentured, as it turned out, but nonetheless I
learned poisons from my mother about seven years ago. Duke Thorold had her create
a slow acting one using zarid. That was about the time King Mattias first
showed signs of his illness. The disease progressed slowly from there until it
killed him.”

“This is all very fine for show,”
Mannel said. “Anyone could pick up a bunch of herbs and tell the same story.
And even if you are healer trained that doesn’t mean Thorold poisoned his king.
What is it you want from me?”

Brenna looked up at and nodded,
once. “What I want from you, your Majesty, is for you to keep Langemore
neutral. I have support of two of the three duchies, I have the support of many
citizens in Kingsreach, I have the support of many former Kingsguardsmen, I
have the support of Kane Rowse, former Captain of the Kingsguard and I even have
the support of King Beldyn. I believe that Thorold is counting on you and your
troops to help him regain some of what he’s lost to me.”

“How would he do that?” Mannel
asked. “I’ve not yet committed and I won’t until Beldyn weds my daughter.”

“And you send her to Kingsreach,
where she will be at Thorold’s mercy,” Brenna said. She leaned back in her
chair. “What would you promise Thorold for the safe return of your daughter?”

“He wouldn’t dare!” Mannel said. “I
would never let him get away with that and he knows it.”

“You would give him what he wants
until your daughter was safe again,” Brenna said. She looked over at Evlan, who
clutched at her father’s hand.

Mannel sighed and his shoulders
slumped. “I would do whatever I had to in order to keep my daughter safe,” he
agreed. “Even if it meant sending my troops to fight Thorold’s war.”

Brenna leaned forward. “So I ask
you again to remain neutral. Without you, Thorold will not stand. Comack and
the church of the One-God may have enough power to starve Kingsreach this
winter but they do not have enough men to win in the spring.”

“And you say that King Beldyn
supports you? How so?”

“We grew up together. I told you my
mother was Thorold’s indentured servant. At the time, Thorold had no reason to
believe I wasn’t his bastard daughter. Beldyn was my little brother. He does
not want to be king and he does not want what his father plans for Kingsreach.”

“And you know this? How?”

“I have been in contact with
Beldyn. My agents in Kingsreach are worried for his life. He has defied his
father too many times and now is being forced to name his younger brother as
his heir. We fear that once that happens Beldyn will be expendable.”

“But he was promised to me,” Evlan
said. “We are to be betrothed. And are you saying that Duke Thorold would kill
his own son?”

“He befriended his king, poisoned
him and then watched him die slowly over many years,” Brenna said. “He sends
men to High Bishop Valden when he knows it will be a slow, agonizing death.
Feiren Rowse died on the High Bishop’s torture table and Neal Ravershaw, Duchess
Avery’s captain and consort, will never wield a sword again because the High
Bishop took his thumbs. Beldyn has met with the High Bishop many times and returns
in obvious pain though there are no marks on his body. Yes, Duke Thorold would
kill his own son.”