Thief (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 1) (25 page)

“Is that from the library?” he asked, gesturing to her map. 

She looked up at his bemused expression and shrugged. “I am a thief,” she said. “No arguments? You’re not going to try to talk me into going somewhere else? There’s no Brotherhood plan I’m supposed to follow?” She’d been expecting Kane to fight her on this, so his silence unnerved her.

“No,” Kane said. “The Brotherhood plan is to support you - the heir to the prophecy. Besides, Cottle, in Aruntun, is as unlikely a destination as any. Which is very good in case anyone is looking for us. If we take this route,” he leaned over and traced a path on the map, “and go north to Silverdale City, then due west, we’ll be able to bypass the Seven Sisters. The foothills should be fairly easy traveling this time of year. If this map is accurate, we’ll be in Cottle no later than a week after we cross into Aruntun.”

Brenna nodded. They would also spend very little time in Comack, which made her happy. “Do you know anyone in Silverdale?” she asked.

“The Brotherhood has a very strong presence there - the strongest outside of Kingsreach,” Kane said. “And though I haven’t seen him in a few years, Duke Ewart and I are the same age. His estate is not far from the city. Years ago we spent rather large amounts of time in the practice ring trying to beat each other senseless.

“That was before I joined the Kingsguard,” Kane continued. “Uncle Feiren and the previous Duke of Fallad were both on the king’s council. I think they were grateful to find a way to let us burn off the extra energy boys that age have.” He rolled up his jacket sleeve, exposing his forearm. “This scar right here is courtesy of Duke Ewart of Fallad.”

“And I suppose he has none from you?” Brenna said.

“He lived,” Kane said, and laughed. “It looks like the ferry is almost ready to leave.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get the horses loaded.”

Kane tightened his hold on the bridles and walked the horses off the ferry and back onto solid ground. Brenna shuffled off the ferry and he frowned. She’d spent the entire crossing hunched down in the boat trying to massage some feeling back into her legs. He hoped it had helped. It was still early, well before mid-day, and they needed to get some distance behind them as soon as possible. He helped Brenna mount up and then they headed north along the road.

Kane looked back over his shoulder. So far they had passed only a few merchants and there had been no sign of Duke Thorold’s troops. The road ahead was clear so he urged his horse up beside Brenna’s.

“How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” she said. “As long as I stay in the saddle.”  She shook her head. “It wasn’t much fun getting back on after our mid-day stop.”

“It will get better,” Kane said. “We’ll find an inn tonight and you can have a hot bath. That should help.” He would have preferred to find a place to camp, but he doubted she’d be able to walk, let alone ride after a night sleeping on the cold ground. And they were still in Comack, in Duke Thorold’s territory - she had to be able to run.

“Thank you. That’s sounds blissful,” Brenna said. She moved one leg and grimaced.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Kane said. “After a bath tonight you should be ready to try a canter or a gallop tomorrow.” She glared at him and he chuckled. “There’ll be a hot meal for supper as well.”

“Humph. Add in a hot breakfast and I’ll consider it.”

Kane nodded. It was his responsibility to make sure she could manage her horse and get herself out of danger. And buy her enough time to do it, if it came to that.

The rest of the day was spent riding through well-tended farmlands. This close to Kingsreach, the farms were close together, with only an occasional rocky plot left barren. As they moved further away from the foothills, the woodlots of evergreens were dotted with maple and ash.

The inn they stopped at looked prosperous and safe. It was nestled amongst a copse of trees at a crossroad. Kane made arrangements for their horses and secured a room - paying an extra two coppers to have the owner’s daughter haul a basin and hot water to the room.

He grabbed Brenna’s pack and pushed it into her arms. “Go have your bath. Meet me in the common room when you’re finished.”

After she’d headed up the stairs, Kane went to the stable to check on the horses. The inn looked reputable, but he needed to be doubly cautious. He was no longer Captain of the Kingsguard - he no longer had the authority that came with the uniform. And they were in Duke Thorold’s lands.

The horses looked well cared for. He treated both Blaze and Runner to apples he bought off an enterprising stable boy. He also promised the boy an extra coin in the morning if he was still satisfied with their care. Then it was time to look after his and Brenna’s supper.

He chose a table in the corner, opposite the bar. From it, he had a clear view of the tavern room, the entrance, and the stairs to the rooms above. He sat down, his back against the wall, and ordered an ale.

Brenna leaned back in the tub with a sigh. Even though the water was no longer steaming, it still soothed her sore muscles. She’d taken a few minutes to add some crushed lavender to her bath water and she felt rested and refreshed by it. The inn keep’s daughter had offered to bring more hot water, but Brenna had declined. Now that her body aches had subsided her empty stomach was more noticeable. She sighed and stretched one last time, then stood up and reached for the drying cloth.

Once dry she rubbed a salve on the worst of her aching muscles and donned a clean set of clothes. Now she felt ready to tackle the stairs.

Brenna felt out of place as she stood in the doorway to the common room. In Thieves Quarter, she’d never felt self-conscious but here in the country, a woman wearing breeches seemed unusual. Conscious of many eyes on her she spotted Kane and headed his way.

She slid onto the bench beside him.

“Perhaps I should have packed a skirt,” she said. Brenna caught the eye of a serving girl and signaled for a mug of ale. “Our fellow travelers seem very interested in the way I’m dressed.”  As she gazed around the room, heads ducked and eyes turned away from her.

Besides the bench she and Kane shared, the round table they sat at had three other benches pulled up to it. She and Kane, the only ones seated at their table, both had their backs to the wall. The other six tables in the common room held a collection of merchants and locals of varying degrees of wealth, judging by their clothing.

“Do you own a skirt?” Kane asked. She watched his eyes dart around the room as he sipped his ale. He obviously didn’t feel any more relaxed than she did.

“Of course I own a skirt.” She paused when her own ale arrived and took a sip. “Well, I used to, anyway. I left it back in my old rooms. No doubt Eryl’s given it to one of his women by now. It’s fitting actually, since he’s the one who gave it to me.”

“Trying to domesticate you?”

“Maybe. It did come in handy a few times as a disguise, though,” Brenna said. “Eryl always thought that was funny, that I’d need to disguise myself as a woman.” Brenna took another sip.

“Eryl’s a fool,” Kane said quietly. “Ah, here’s supper.” He leaned back as the serving girl set two bowls and a plate of dark bread in front of them. “I hope you don’t mind that I ordered the beef stew rather than the fried fish. We’ll be traveling beside the river for a few days so there’ll be time to eat fish another day.”

Brenna sniffed at the bowl before her. “This smells great.” What had Kane meant by that comment about Eryl? She grabbed her spoon and dipped it into the stew. Did it mean he thought of her as a woman and not just the heir to the prophecy? She put a spoonful of stew in her mouth and chewed slowly. Maybe he hadn’t meant anything by his comment. Maybe it had just been a general opinion about Eryl. The old gods knew he often
was
a fool.

It didn’t take long for Brenna to feel sleepy once her belly was full. Soon after she popped the last piece of gravy soaked bread into her mouth, her eyes drooped and she tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a yawn. She dragged herself up the stairs and a short time later she lay quietly in bed. The muffled sounds of the common room drifted up from below.

Kane had insisted she take the bed. He’d told her he’d check on the horses and then he’d be up. Earlier Brenna had decided that his comment about Eryl hadn’t meant anything, so why was she nervous? All they were doing was sleeping in the same room. Something they’d be doing often so she’d better get used to it. Eventually the long day caught up with her and Brenna fell into a deep sleep.

At the knock on his study door, Thorold tucked the document he’d been reading - correspondence from Langemore’s King - underneath some other papers on his desk.

“Enter,” he said. It was his newly appointed militia captain, Barton. Thorold had been impressed with the way the man had handled the fiasco with Kane Rowse and he’d promoted him. Barton had shown himself to be competent, unflappable and above all ambitious.

“Yes, Captain.”

“My Lord. I’ve just had word that Kane Rowse and the girl left Kingsreach. I thought you would want to know as soon as possible.”

“When was this?” He’d expected the girl to run, but with the Captain of the Kingsguard? And the man had resigned from his position just the day before. What was their connection? He didn’t like this at all.

“Just before dawn,” Barton said. “Apparently they crossed into Comack on the ferry this morning. They were seen along the road to Silverdale shortly after that.”

“Hmm, that’s almost twelve hours ago,” Thorold said. He had a pretty good idea of where they would have stopped for the night. “Captain, well done. Send some men after them. If they leave now, they should be able to catch up with Rowse and the girl before they enter Fallad.”

“I’ll go myself,” Barton said. “My Lord.”

“There’s more?” Thorold asked.

“Yes my Lord. From all accounts, the two were very well provisioned.”

“Meaning?”

“It seemed unlikely they could have prepared so much since yesterday,” Barton said. “I asked around and Rowse and his uncle have been buying travel provisions for some time.”

“Really? That is interesting, Captain. Thank you.” So Kane Rowse had planned to leave Kingsreach. But what about the witch? Where had she been all this time? She hadn’t been in Thieves Quarter. He would have known.

“My Lord?” Barton said. “Here is the knife we took from the girl when she was caught in this office.” Barton stepped forward and placed a sheathed knife on his desk in front of him.

Thorold nodded his dismissal. Barton turned and left the room and he reached for the weapon. He didn’t like mysteries and this was an uncomfortable one. Why would his bastard granddaughter and Kane Rowse travel together? First he’d defended her against him and now they’d left town together. By all accounts they shouldn’t even know each other - the Captain of the Kingsguard and a common thief. The only time they would have come into contact was when she’d been held for trying to steal the knife from the priest.

Thorold sat up. Could that be it? Did Kane Rowse know something about her that he didn’t know? He slid the knife he held from its scabbard and stared at it.

This knife was almost as old as the one she’d tried to steal from the priest. He’d never been satisfied with the priest’s account of that night. How had he seen the thief in his darkened room? It wasn’t some sort of divine intervention by the One-God, but he had no other explanation.

What was it about these weapons that were connected to the girl? The age of the weapons was similar - Kane Rowse’s sword, the knife from the priest and now this knife taken from Brenna. And he couldn’t forget the first one, the one he’d killed the girl’s mother with.

It made sense, in a way. The witch’s knife had started him down this path, why shouldn’t her daughter be part of it as well? And the Brotherhood was somehow behind it all.

“Fridrick!” he yelled. “Someone get that useless scholar in here now.” Thorold heard hurried steps in the hall outside the door. The door opened and Fridrick stepped in, panting as he straightened his robe.

“Yes my Lord, you wished to see me?” Fridrick bowed low.

“What have you found out about the Brotherhood and Rowse?”

“Since I last reported, my Lord,” Fridrick said. “I’ve discovered that the gathering Feiren Rowse hosted some weeks back to honor a retiring Weapons Master had more than just Kingsguard in attendance. Many guests were merchants. There were even some farmers.”

“At an event to honour a Weapons Master?” Thorold asked. “You think this was a meeting of this Brotherhood?” He remembered that party. There had been something odd about it. Oh yes, there had been very little carousing in Kingsreach afterward. Unusual for a party involving so many soldiers, but maybe not so unusual for a secret meeting of the Brotherhood.

“I think it quite possible,” Fridrick said. “And even a hint that the newly-appointed interim Captain of the Kingsguard belonged to a secret society could be damaging.”

“I have another piece of the puzzle,” Thorold said. “The knife I had hidden in the desk drawer has been stolen. I’m assuming the girl took it before she was found. It’s important, in some way. How did she know where to look?”

“Why did she even want that knife?”