Thief (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 1) (15 page)

The next few weeks fell into a routine. Two days out of every seven, Brenna practiced with the young members of the Brotherhood. Carolie did indeed show up with a knife that was a better match for her. It was very plain, which explained why she’d been given the other one in the first place, but now that the girl knew it was more of a family treasure than her first knife, she made much of it.

In very little time Brenna was able to stand outside a room and know who was in there, just by sensing the old steel. Once, Feiren had her six training mates trade weapons. Not only did Brenna know that they didn’t hold their own weapons, but she could tell whose weapon they held.

She knew she should treat all of the youngsters the same, but Jemma, the only daughter of a weaver, quickly became her favourite. The girl was quiet and serious when with the others, but alone, Jemma had a quick wit and wry sense of humor. Brenna and Jemma often sat apart from the rest while they waited their turn in the practice yard. Jemma seemed content to let Carolie flirt and giggle with the boys while she and Brenna discussed other matters.

Already apprenticed to her father, Jemma had a good grasp of how politics shaped and affected her particular trade. Brenna listened uneasily to Jemma’s thoughts about Comack. Duke Thorold’s reliance on his mines for wealth combined with his obsession with developing feed and pasturage for his horses meant that southern Aruntun, not Comack, now produced most of Soule’s cotton. As the church of the One-God gained power in the king’s council the possibility of trade disruptions with Aruntun became more likely. If that happened whole trades could disappear.

“As a weaver I would likely be fine,” Jemma said. “I can still work wool and such. But it’s not just the growers who would lose trade. The cotton merchants and the ship owners and caravans that transport it would be hurt, as well as the dyers and those who collect and grow what’s used in the dyes. Some dyes are only good for cotton and can’t be used on wool. And all because the church won’t tolerate the old gods.”

Brenna shivered. Trade would be disrupted, just as Jemma outlined, she was sure. Was this another vision? Maybe not, but Duke Thorold rarely did things by accident. If he’d been encouraging his farmers to grow grain rather than cotton, there was a reason. She shivered again. What had the cotton displaced on the Aruntian farms? Wheat? Corn? Would Aruntun be able to feed her people if trade with the rest of Soule dried up?

Most days the mental work with old steel combined with the physical activity of weapons training left Brenna exhausted - those nights she slept deeply and did not venture out into the city. On the nights that she did take to the streets she always wore her knife. She followed Kane’s advice and worked hard to keep old steel quiet. It wasn’t long before she could pinpoint Brothers when they were blocks away.

Testing for old steel became second nature. Brenna was confident that she was no longer being followed. At least by the Brotherhood. Of the church, she saw no sign, but kept to the shadows and rooftops just in case.

She also kept to the better parts of town. She was much less likely to be recognized outside of the Quarter. Especially once she’d come across some student’s clothes left outside to dry. The disguise suited her well enough. She’d even worn it into the odd tavern in the hopes she could glean information about Thorold’s activities. She might be Feiren’s guest and the Brotherhood believed her the heir to their prophecy, but she had not lost sight of her promise to her mother. She
would
find a way to make Duke Thorold pay for her death.

News was rare but one night at a small out-of-the-way tavern she was able to slip unnoticed into a booth beside a former informant. Messengers from abroad had visited Thorold’s estate after dark, he told his companion. And one message had been intercepted. Duke Thorold’s son Beldyn was to wed the King of Langemore’s daughter.

As she crept out of the tavern Brenna wondered what other correspondence Duke Thorold might have had with the King of Langemore. She could see no reason for him to want to keep a betrothal secret – not after King Mattias’ lack of a marriage and natural heir.

On her way back to Feiren’s house she cursed her inability to find out more - but she’d have to go through both Kane and Eryl to question her old informants, and that she wouldn’t do. She didn’t yet trust Kane, not with this. And Eryl? She knew better than to trust him. No matter how ambiguous she tried to make her questions, he’d see through them. And she’d never be sure that he’d tell her the truth.

But something about Thorold’s late night messengers bothered her. Another hunch, she thought wryly, and wished her Seer abilities were clearer. Maybe then she wouldn’t need to work so hard at finding things out. No doubt she’d find the information she sought in Thorold’s home if she dared the old gods and looked there.

As high summer hit Kingsreach and the nobles made plans to leave the city in order to escape the heat and odors of the hot weather, Brenna worried that she would lose her chance for this year. Kane told her Duke Thorold planned to leave for Dryannan soon. She was getting desperate to learn more of his plots.

Dressed as a student, Brenna walked slowly past the high wall of the estate, the gate and the guards. The lane she turned down branched off to the right and sloped down towards the river. She’d walked this path shortly before midnight every fourth or fifth night since she’d found her student disguise. The first night the guards had watched her every move, but each night after that they’d paid less and less attention. Tonight her presence barely caused a head to turn and she smiled in the darkness. She was as invisible as she would ever be to the guards at Duke Thorold’s estate.

Brenna slowly headed back to Feiren’s. Her next step would be the library. If she could find plans for an estate the same age as Thorold’s she might be able to find a way in. But that would have to wait. Tomorrow was the unveiling of the Caller to the Brotherhood and she needed to be sharp to manage all the old steel.

nine

Kane strode through the castle, barely noticing the rich tapestries, thick oak tables and richly carved panels and doors that he passed. He turned left just past the offices of the three duchies - as usual the offices of Aruntun and Fallad were dark and empty while a light showed from under Comack’s closed door.

He reached his own office and pushed the door open. Dasid looked up from his seat at the desk, papers and scrolls piled in front of him.

“Ready to go?” Kane asked. Tonight the Brotherhood would acknowledge Brenna as the Caller and heir to the throne. The oath they had given when they joined the Brotherhood was real and every one of them owed their allegiance to Brenna. Including him. He hoped it never conflicted with the oath he’d sworn to protect King Matthias.

“It will take me only a moment to finish up here.” Dasid said. He rolled up a scroll and added it to one of the stacks of papers on the desk while Kane paced the small room.

The meet was scheduled to start in two hours and Kane was impatient to get to his uncle’s and make sure all was well. He’d handled the security measures himself but he needed to make sure his plan was executed smoothly.

Because of the large number of people expected for tonight’s meet, arrivals had been staggered over the past two days. Right now travelers from outside Kingsreach were concealed in the underground passageways. Some had been there for two nights.

It was the biggest recorded meeting in Brotherhood history. Well over six hundred Brothers were expected. Since there was no way to keep a gathering that large a secret, they’d had come up with a ruse. Uncle Feiren was hosting a party in honor of the retirement of the Kingsguard's weapons master. Almost three hundred Kingsguard and high ranking townspeople would enter through the Rowse estate through the front door. What wasn’t general knowledge was that the Weapons Master was going to manage their new training facility.

Finally Dasid was finished and they headed for the stables.

Their horses settled in the Rowse stables, Kane headed for Feiren’s study while Dasid went down to the cavern. His task was to document all the Brothers in attendance, a huge undertaking he’d already spent weeks on. Now he was going to see who had arrived since the morning.

Feiren’s study was empty. Kane looked out the window to the practice yard. Uncle Feiren was there with Brenna and the six youngsters, going through their drill one final time. When he stepped outside, Kane’s sword tingled slightly. Though her back was to him and all her attention seemed to be on the drill, Brenna had just greeted him.

Her control over the old steel amazed him. Two weeks after his talk with her none of the Brothers on watch complained of unexpected incidences with their weapons. At first Kane had been pleased - then he’d smartened up. Now half the Brothers posted to watch the house and its exits went without old steel. So far, according to the reports, Brenna still roamed at night but now she kept to the better parts of Kingsreach, where she wouldn’t be recognized. She also showed a respectable amount of caution when she went out and often wore a disguise she’d picked up somewhere. And because she was so good at remaining undetected, tracking her through the streets of the city was excellent training for his men.

Drill complete, the group in front of him all lowered their weapons. Uncle Feiren headed his way and Kane caught Brenna’s eye and smiled.

“Everything going well?” Kane asked.

“Aye, as well as can be expected with this lot.” Feiren’s eyes sparkled with humor. “All right. Head inside and get yourselves something from Cook,” Feiren said and Kane stepped to the side as the group headed to the door.

“Mind you,” Feiren said. “Cook will be busy so don’t make yourselves a nuisance. And see if ye can’t keep from staining your shirt, there Owen.” Feiren bellowed as he followed them into the house.

Brenna stopped beside Kane.

“It looks good,” Kane said. “The drill. Was the way you’re dressed your idea?” All six young Brothers had been in head to toe black. Not unlike what Brenna had been wearing the first time he’d met her.

“Well, it is practical.” Brenna grinned up at him. “Black breeches and shirts are useful, especially for the boys. Even Carolie seems to like it. Now take your uniform.” Brenna gestured towards him. “With so many buttons to polish I’m surprised you have time to show up at all.”

Kane dipped his head in acknowledgement. He hadn’t spent much time at his uncle’s, though he knew he should. He needed her to trust him, to trust the Brotherhood. Staying away didn’t help him there.

“I might have more time if I didn’t have so many security reports to listen to,” Kane said. She shrugged at his comment but it was true. He’d insisted his men report her every move to him, and they did. Pages and pages each night she was out. “I’ve been told the subject is being very careful.”

“I can’t believe you still haven’t told your Uncle.” Brenna met his gaze, her eyes serious. “I’m not sure what to make of it.”

“You forget who I am, Brenna.” Kane kept his voice gentle. “As Captain of the Kingsguard I sit on the king’s council. I’m also in charge of security for the Brotherhood. That makes your safety my responsibility, not my uncle’s.” He hoped he never had to choose between his two roles. His first loyalty was to Brenna and the Brotherhood. “Besides,” Kane continued. “I did suggest you tell him.”

“So you did,” Brenna said. “I just didn’t expect you to keep a secret like this from him.”

“It’s not a secret unless it’s kept,” he said quietly. Maybe, just maybe, she would trust him a little now. “And speaking of secrets, I’m sure Dasid would love to discuss the house with you. He might be able to show you a few more exits.” Brenna laughed and he felt her relax a little. Good, tonight was too important for her to be too nervous. “Not that I think you need more ways out of the house.”

“Do you really think he knows more of them than I do?” Brenna asked.

Kane pretended to think about it. “He’s had access to the house for twenty years and you’ve had access to it for what, less than two months? No, I doubt he knows more of them than you. But he would like to record them all.”

Up in her room, Brenna could hear the sounds of people arriving - hearty greetings, booted feet in the hallway, laughter. But underneath it there was a heavy hum of old steel. A lot of old steel. She’d successfully blocked it out until now but with so much below her, her head ached. At one point, in an effort to find out just how many weapons there were, she’d reached for it and had almost been overwhelmed. Since then she’d stayed in her room rather than face the old steel and the Brothers who carried it. In hopes of some relief, she dabbed her neck with cool water. She leaned over the wash basin and studied her reflection in the mirror.

Over the past weeks her hair had grown and now it was tied back with some twine. Her mother had called her hair chestnut but Brenna had always thought of it as muddy brown, despite the shine it had. Tonight her face was pale, which she thought added to her plainness. The dusting of freckles she’d accumulated while training outside stood out. Her nose was a little too large and her mouth a little wide to be considered beautiful. She certainly had none of the physical charm of Carolie, who was well on her way to becoming a great beauty. Her only unusual feature was her mismatched eyes and as far as she was concerned, that was not a virtue. She sighed and sat on the bed. Not much to inspire the Brotherhood.

Idly she picked up her knife and toyed with it, first lighting the blade and then letting it go dark. Kane and Feiren believed she could manipulate old steel because she was heir to the prophecy. She thought it was something she’d inherited from her mother, along with the charm of concealment and her ability to see well in the dark.

The trouble was, as Kane had reminded her tonight, this wasn’t a game. She was about to try to convince hundreds of people that she was the one prophesied long ago, the one they felt should be on the throne. There was no way she could ever believe that, nor did she want what they offered. She had her own plans, her own life and they didn’t include being the figurehead for the Brotherhood.

But she
needed
to know what game Thorold was playing so she had to keep up appearances with Kane and his uncle. Unfortunately the longer she stayed in the Rowse home, the harder it would be to see Kane’s reaction to her deception. She admired him. He was a man of honor, a man to be trusted. He would stand by her if she asked, likely to the death – and that shook her. No-one other than her mother had ever had that depth of loyalty to her. And she didn’t deserve it. She wasn’t what he thought she was. Kane had been correct earlier when he said she’d forgotten who he was. She, a thief, had no right to expect anything from the Captain of the Kingsguard.

With a deep sigh, Brenna stood. Time to face the Brotherhood. She opened the door and nodded at the Brother positioned outside her room. She recognized him as the Kingsguard on duty when she was in jail. Kane had said his name was Andel and that he was her escort but to her he was still her jailer. Would he let her leave if she tried to walk out of the house? She doubted it.

“Let’s go,” she said. Instead of taking the stairs she pushed the lever that opened a passageway. As she descended to the caverns, she gritted her teeth and tried to block out the old steel that surrounded her.

Brenna peered around the rocky opening and squinted in the smoky light of the cavern. Empty, the cavern had looked big, but now, filled with almost six hundred Brothers, it felt small. The noise of the crowd reminded her of the Seven River when spring melted the mountain snows. And underlying it was the thrum of old steel. It battered her senses even as she tried to block it out.

For the most part men filled the cavern but Brenna could see a number of women scattered throughout the crowd. Their brightly colored dresses stood out from the somber blacks and browns of the men’s garb. The dark blue uniforms of the Kingsguard punctuated the edges of the room and a Guard nearby looked her way. Andel gave him a sign and the Guard nodded and continued to scan the gathering.

She’d been part of a crowd this size before, but only on the streets of Kingsreach. The larger the crowd the more profitable they were for a thief, but she hadn’t realized that so many bodies in an enclosed space would generate such heat. Brenna thanked Ush that she was dressed in a simple shirt and breeches. The heavy formal attire worn by the nobles and tradesmen and the uniforms worn by the Kingsguard must be stifling.

Up at the front, on the dais, Kane was impressive in his uniform. When he bent his head to speak to his uncle his dark hair shone in the flickering torchlight and Brenna remembered the way the deep blue of the uniform had highlighted his eyes. She quickly looked away from him to study the cavern.

The wooden dais stretched across the front of the cavern and was darkened by age and the smoke of hundreds of years of torches. On the left, three steps led up from the cavern floor. Most of the council of the Brotherhood, including Dasid Addems, sat at the long table that was centered on the dais. Feiren Rowse stood close to the front of the dais, still in conversation with Kane and the rest of the council members solemnly looked out over the crowd. 

Brenna’s six drill mates huddled just in front of her, at the very back of the crowd. With a nod to Andel, she drifted off and joined them. Andel made his way through the crowd and up the stairs. He said something to Kane and after a quick glance her way Kane tapped Feiren on the shoulder.

“Brotherhood,” Feiren shouted over the din. “Brotherhood.” The noise of the crowd rose and then grew quiet. “On this historic occasion a special ceremony will be performed by some of our youngest members. Please begin.” Feiren waved Brenna’s group forward.

The seven of them quickly got into positions - shortest to tallest. Martyn was first, then Jemma, Carolie, Brenna, Colm, Owen and finally Gram. Brenna did her best to ignore the deep drone of old steel and concentrate on Carolie as she followed her through the crowd. They stopped in front of Feiren and the council and saluted them. Then they all turned and drew their weapons. When Brenna’s hand touched her knife, the hum of old steel increased in volume. Her arm trembled as she drew her knife up, pointed to the cavern ceiling with the flat of the blade resting against her nose. The muscles in her arm ached until she clamped down hard with her mind and blocked the old steel out. She took a deep breath. Now she could function.

Brenna remained stationary as the others swung out from either side of her until they formed two lines that faced each other. Knives and swords met overhead and she walked beneath them. As she passed each pair of old steel weapons she reached out and let them flare briefly. It was a struggle to control the responses of these few weapons in the presence of so much old steel and by the time she’d walked the short distance her head ached and sweat dotted her forehead. The rest of her drill team formed a circle and Brenna began to weave in and out between them. As she passed them, one by one she let each weapon glow for a second. The crowd murmured and she felt a vague sense of unease from the old steel that surrounded her.

She wove past Martyn and the circle broke. Once again they lined up in front of the council table, this time with Brenna at the head of the line. They held their weapons out in front, blades pointed to the cavern ceiling.