Thief (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 1) (24 page)

Thorold sat in quiet fury. Absently he picked up the glass of wine on the desk in front of him. It was his favorite vintage, shipped from the Talis Islands in the Southern Sea. Usually he savored the rich fruity taste, but today he barely tasted it at all. By the One-God, how could Kane Rowse have gotten the best of him? And he’d risked his position to save a thief. Why? It didn’t make sense. The man had barged into his home and then used his access to the records all to keep that brat free.

It was that witch’s fault. Ever since she’d told him she was his son’s daughter and not his he’d had a sick feeling. If he’d missed something that significant he might have missed something else as well, something more important to his plans. He had to get Beldyn to Kingsreach as soon as possible. His second born son had always been a biddable child, but he’d thought that of his eldest son too. The king had accepted Beldyn as his royal heir but it was Thorold who would hold the power. There was no way he would let anyone, even his own son,
especially
his own son, forget that. It was humiliating to think that all those years ago Alastair had deceived him, but knowing that the witch and her mother had fooled him for so long was intolerable.

Thorold reached down and opened the bottom desk drawer. He had the mother’s knife, the one he’d killed her with. He’d use it to kill the daughter as well. He activated the switch that opened the false bottom. Empty. His body shook with rage. She’d stolen something after all. His rage subsided and an uneasy feeling settled over him. How had she known where to find the knife? Curse that disloyal guard and Kane Rowse for allowing this to happen. It was too late for him to report the loss of the knife - the king had already freed the witch. But there were other ways to take care of problems. He rang for a servant.

“Bring me the captain of my guard,” he said. The man bowed and hurried out of the room. It was time he sent a strong message to the witch and Rowse.

Kane sat across from his uncle. He and Brenna had just returned from the library. It was time to tell Uncle Feiren the news.

“From what I saw today,” Brenna said. “The King is very ill. I doubt he’ll live more than two years.”

“As bad as that?” Feiren asked.

“Yes,” Brenna replied. “He might not even have that long. I don’t know how fast his illness has been progressing. Kane tells me his health has deteriorated significantly in the past five or six years. He has yellow skin, thin hair and he smells very sweet, which are the symptoms of a liver wasting disease. But he also has glassy eyes and excessive sweating. Those are specific signs of long term trefell poisoning. Trefell is a rare plant that grows in very high altitudes.”

“Like they have in Comack,” Kane interjected. He didn’t need to say it. Who else but Thorold would be doing this? And doing it during his term as captain of the Kingsguard. He had failed to protect the king.

“Yes,” Brenna agreed. “Trefell is extremely toxic, but in low doses it doesn’t kill. At least not right away. According to the book I found in the library it was originally used in small doses to keep those who have lost their wits docile. However, long-term use is deadly - the patient’s organs became unable to clear the body of natural toxins - their skin takes on a yellowish cast and their hair thins. When enough toxins build up in the body, the eyes seem almost coated and the body tries to eliminate the toxins through sweat.”

“Can we reverse it?” asked Feiren.

“No,” Brenna said. “The damage to the body is done. But we might be able to counter the poison so that the symptoms get no worse. Perhaps the king’s health could improve a little over time with proper care, but it’s hard to predict.”

“What do we need to do?” Feiren asked.

“I can create an antidote,” Brenna said. “But finding the correct dose will be difficult and could take some time.”

“There’s no proof,” Kane said. “But Thorold must be behind this. His son is the king’s heir. He has the most to gain.”

“I think it was my mother who gave Thorold the information about Trefell,” Brenna stated. “Remember I told you that when I was fifteen my mother made me learn all about poisons? Well, the timing fits. That was seven years ago, just about the time I believe the king was first started on the poison.”

“So it’s fitting that her daughter’s knowledge will be used to help the King,” Kane said and was rewarded with Brenna’s grateful smile. “Uncle Feiren it will be up to you to make sure the king gets the right dose for the antidote. Brenna and I will be gone by dawn and you’re the only one close enough to Mattias to administer it.”

“I’ll make up some different doses of the antidote,” Brenna said. “You’ll need to watch King Mattias carefully to see which one is correct,” Brenna said. “The effects should be apparent within a day or two of administering it. He’ll have more energy and his eyes should get clearer.”

“Why don’t I simply tell King Mattias he’s being poisoned and ask him to take the antidote?” Feiren asked.

“You could. It might work in the short term.” Brenna leaned across the desk. “But if you do that Thorold could simply use a different poison on him.” Brenna looked over at him before turning back to his uncle. “There’s one more thing. The cure, zarid, is an equally dangerous poison. If you get caught you’ll be rightly accused of poisoning the king.”

Kane’s heart jumped at her words. He hadn’t known that! Uncle Feiren nodded slowly, deliberately, his face grim.

“Hand me the poison then, lass,” Feiren said. “I’ll make sure my king gets any help I can give him.”

sixteen

Brenna placed two zarid leaves in the old steel mortar and carefully crushed them with the smooth ball of the pestle. As she worked, she muttered under her breath. She didn’t know any real healing spells, so she simply repeated over and over
health to King Mattias
, while picturing him getting better.

She carefully emptied the contents of the mortar into a small jar. She had dozens of doses of the poison to make and only a few hours until she and Kane left the city.

They hadn’t yet decided where they would go. At least Kane hadn’t. She knew exactly where she was headed. Kane could get them out of the city and then she was going to Aruntun. Brenna was going to let healer Sabine’s family know what had happened to their daughter, whether Kane agreed or not.

By early morning, when she showed them to Feiren and Kane, the small apothecary jars almost covered the dining table.

“I know it seems like a lot,” Brenna said. “But I made at least three different strengths. See, I’ve identified the three doses by colour. Red is the weakest, yellow is of middle strength and blue is the strongest. You need to try them in that order. Now,” she picked up two jars with red string attached, “since none of us is sure how you’ll get these into the king, there’s both a powder and liquid in each strength. Once you know which one works, simply take a jar to the apothecary and he’ll duplicate it.” The Brotherhood’s membership included an apothecary, of course. Kane had taken her to visit the man last evening and she’d taken all of the zarid he had on hand as well as most of his small jars.

“Good work, Brenna.” Kane squeezed her shoulder. “Now get some rest. We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“All right,” Brenna said. She ran a hand through her hair. She was exhausted. “Good bye Feiren.” She hugged him and brushed her lips across the stubble of his check. “Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome, lass,” Feiren said. “I’m proud to have met you.”

Brenna grabbed her pack and headed for the stairs. One foot on the bottom stair, she turned back to Feiren, and almost stumbled.

His eyes were lifeless and his face slack and pale, as if he was dead. This was what she’d seen in Sabine Werrett’s face before she’d died.
Please, not Feiren
. And then the shadow fell from his face and Feiren, tired but alive, sent her a puzzled look.

“Look after yourself, Feiren,” Brenna said solemnly. “You’re in very great danger.”

“I know that, lass,” Feiren said. “Don’t you worry about me, you just keep yourself safe. Now go on, get some sleep.”

Brenna headed up the stairs to her room. She hoped that what she’d Seen wasn’t the truth. Seer’s made mistakes too, didn’t they? Please, Ush, she pleaded, keep Feiren safe.

More than anywhere else she’d lived, Feiren Rowse’s house had felt like a home. Her home. Growing up, Duke Thorold’s estate hadn’t been a home, nor had any of the places she’d lived in since, not even her room over the seamstress shop. Mistress Dudding, kind soul that she was, would not have allowed Brenna to live there if she’d known about her witch eyes. But here, with Feiren, she’d felt accepted for who she is. To the Brotherhood, her eyes were simply more proof that she was the one prophesied.

In her room, Brenna changed out of her clothes, blew out the lamp and slipped into what she’d come to think of as
her
bed one last time.

She woke all at once. What was that? There, a soft tread on the floorboards outside her door.

“Brenna,” Kane whispered. “We need to get moving.”

“Right,” she said. The door to her room opened and she could just make out Kane’s face in the gloom. “Be right down.”

The door closed and she slid out of bed. She was going to miss this bed. She was also going to miss sleeping alone. It was likely to be bedrolls and a hard patch of ground, but Brenna would be sharing her nights with Kane. And that made her a little nervous. She hadn’t spent all that much time alone with him and now they would be together day and night.

Brenna dropped her pack in the courtyard by Feiren’s stable. The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east, and the dew was damp on the grass. She and Kane had rushed through a cold breakfast then she’d followed him outside to the stables. Kane had disappeared into the still dark structure to fetch the horses, so Brenna took a few moments to stretch the kinks out of her neck and shoulders. Her muscles were tight from the long hours she’d spent crushing the zarid to make the antidote last night.

Kane led two horses out of the stable and over to the rail and tied them up. “I know you don’t have a lot of experience with horses,” he said.

“I have lots of experience with horses,” Brenna said. “I lived over a stable for sixteen years. What I don’t have is experience
riding
horses. The first time I was on one was when I rode with Dasid from Thorold’s estate to the castle.” And she hadn’t made time to learn to ride, like Kane had suggested.

“He said you had such a tight grip on him that he ended up with bruises,” Kane said. “I’m hoping to escape the same fate.”

“Did he?” Brenna asked. Poor Dasid. All he’d done was help rescue her from Duke Thorold.

“No,” Kane said and grinned. “But it was close. You do need to be able to ride on your own, though. And take care of your horse.” He patted the nose of one of the horses. “Now this lovely girl is your mount. Come say hello to Blaze.”

Brenna took a step forward. Blaze was big, but she seemed tame enough. Kane rubbed the horse’s chin and her large brown eyes closed in response. She was a rich, mahogany brown with a jagged white patch running the length of her nose. Brenna put her hand on the horse’s neck and stroked it gently. Blaze’s skin twitched under her hand and Brenna smiled. Despite their large size, horses had been some of her gentlest patients when she was a girl. Her mother had resented living above the stables, so she’d sent Brenna whenever the stable master had asked for a poultice or a wound cleaning. Neither Brenna nor the stable master had minded.

“I think you two will get along fine,” Kane said. “She’s very dependable and has an easy gait. Which you’ll soon appreciate. You’ll be spending long hours on her. She’s fast, too, but we’ll worry about that later. First I want to show you how to get on and stay on.”

Kane quickly put one foot into a stirrup and swung himself up onto the horse’s back. Just as quickly, he dismounted.

“You try.” He steered her over to stand beside the horse. “You’re smaller than I am, so it might be harder. We can find a mounting block to give you a boost if you want.”

Brenna glared at him. There was no way she was going to use a block, as though she was a child. Besides, if she could climb onto the roof of a house, she should be able to climb onto a horse.

Brenna lifted her left foot and slid it into the stirrup. She bounced slightly on her right foot and grabbed the saddle with both hands. With a grunt, she pushed off with her foot and pulled herself up, hard. She landed on her stomach and the rigid leather of the saddle dug into her ribcage.

“Swing your right leg over her back,” Kane said. “Here, let me help.”

“No, don’t!” Brenna said. “I can do this.” Bad enough that she was draped over the horse like a sack of flour - she didn’t need him hauling her around like one too. “And you better not be laughing.”

She dropped her arms to the other side of the horse and grabbed at the leather cinch. She tried to swing her leg over the horses back, but her knee got caught against the saddle. Her left foot came out of the stirrup and she started to slide across the saddle towards the ground on the other side. Brenna scrabbled at the saddle but she couldn’t get a good grip. In defeat, she tucked her head under as she slid towards the ground. Her shoulder hit first and she somersaulted into the dirt of the stable yard. She looked up and into the placid gaze of Blaze.

“Are you all right?”  Kane asked. He leaned over her and gently grasped her shoulders.

Brenna winced. “Hey.”

“Sorry,” he said. His hold softened but he didn’t let go.

“I’m fine.” Brenna sat up straight and moved her shoulders one at a time. There didn’t seem to be anything really wrong. Except now Kane was massaging her shoulders. Abruptly, Brenna shrugged off his hands and got to her feet. She didn’t need his help. Nor did she want to think about how her skin warmed where he’d touched her.

“I’m fine, really.” She dusted off her clothes. “Just feeling foolish.” He made a noise and she looked over at him. “Don’t you dare,” she said as he turned his head away. “It’s not funny.”

“It is,” he said. He walked around to the other side of the horse.

Brenna glared at him and followed. “Anyway, it’s not my fault it’s yours,” she accused. “You are a terrible riding instructor.”

“You’re right,” Kane lowered his head, “it’s my fault. I didn’t realize I had such a poor student.”

She lightly punched his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said and he caught both her arms in his. Brenna tried to wriggle free, but he held her tight against him. Eventually, he released her arms and she looked up into warm blue eyes.

Kane looked away abruptly and took one step back. “Try it again,” he said. “And this time you
will
accept my help.” He took hold of Blaze’s bridle.

Half an hour later, Brenna swayed atop Blaze as they headed out of town. They were riding north and west, towards the Upper Silverdale River. Kane promised they’d stop and determine their actual course once they got to the river. For now, they were leaving by the most common route out of Kingsreach. It would be impossible for anyone watching to figure out their destination.

“You know Kane, this isn’t too bad,” Brenna said. She patted her horse’s neck. “Riding is easy, once you learn how to get on. Blaze and I are getting along nicely, and we have a lovely day ahead of us.” The sunrise was directly behind them and she felt the gentle warmth on her back.

Kane shook his head.

“Am I wrong?” she asked.

“I warned you that it would take some time to get used to riding.”

“Yes,” Brenna said. “But I’ve been active all my life. Besides, I’ve just been through all that weapons training with Feiren. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll see,” Kane said. “Talk to me at the end of the day. Or better yet, tomorrow morning.”

They reached the river crossing a short time later. Brenna reined in her horse and let Kane bring his up beside her. He dismounted and handed her his horse’s reins.

“Stay here until I find out when we can cross,” he said. He headed towards a small house that sat on the bank of the river. A woman came outside and she and Kane spoke. Brenna couldn’t hear what they said over the rushing of the river, but the woman nodded and pointed across the river. She then went over to the dock and sent a bright red flag up a short pole.

Still seated on Blaze, Brenna looked around. The gray and purple Godswall mountain range was off in the distance. The mountains were completely in Comack - the mines in them provided much of Duke Thorold’s wealth. Sweeping foothills gave way to plains dotted with farms. At this time of year the wheat and corn were almost over Brenna’s head. The road cut a narrow swathe through the crops and an occasional branching laneway showed the way to a small group of farm buildings.

The Upper Silverdale was swift and narrow here. It carried the cold runoff from the Godswall mountains down to the plains. There it met up with a similar torrent from the Seven Sisters. Even the gray color of the water looked cold.

Once across the river, they’d be in Comack, a duchy that Brenna had no wish to spend time in. Dryannon, the capital, was miles away on the other side of the Godswall. It was Duke Thorold who was the more immediate threat from Comack. And he was likely still abed in Kingsreach.

Kane came back and grabbed both horses by their halters and led them to the left of the dock.

“Here, let me help you down,” Kane said.

“I think I can manage,” Brenna said and she slid from her horse. But when her feet touched the ground her knees buckled and gave out. She would have fallen if Kane hadn’t caught her. His breath ruffled her hair as he set her on her feet.

“Sorry about that,” Brenna said as she grabbed onto Kane’s arm. “You could have warned me.”

“I did offer to help.”

“Yes, you did.” Brenna took one tentative step, then another, before she finally let go of his arm. Her legs felt weak and unsteady, and this after only two hours riding!

“Don’t worry, you get used to it.”

“When?” Brenna asked. She gingerly sat on a nearby boulder.

Kane looped the reins around a small tree. Both horses bent their heads to worry at the few blades of grass they could reach.

“We have some time until we need to load the horses onto the ferry,” Kane said. He placed one boot beside her on the rock and leaned toward her. “It’s time to decide where we’re heading.”

“I’ve already decided.” Brenna said. “It’s something I have to do.” She pulled a small piece of paper from her vest pocket. Carefully, she unfolded it and smoothed it out across her lap. “Here, just west of the Seven Sisters,” she pointed to a small spot on the map. “There should be a town named Cottle.”