Queen

Brotherhood of the Throne

Book 3

Queen

Jane Glatt

Copyright © 2012 Roberta Jane Glatt

Jane Glatt Enterprises Inc.

www.Janeglatt.com

ISBN 978-0-9880291-2-5

All Rights Reserved worldwide under the Berne Convention. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

The author expressly prohibits any entity from using this publication for purposes of training artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text, including without limitation technologies that are capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this publication. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

one

Queen. Brenna grabbed her pack and patted Blaze before she handed the reins to the boy who stood expectantly in front of her. She didn’t want the title or the responsibilities that went with it. She’d like nothing more than to get back on Blaze and ride as far away from it as she could. Her hand crept into her pack and she caressed the coronet before turning to find Kane’s blue-eyed gaze on her.

Ready? he asked.

She moved to stand beside him and nodded, her look taking in both Dasid and Gaskain. People were depending on her—Kane was depending on her—and she couldn’t allow Thorold to rule Soule. She knew what he was capable of.

She led the way and when she reached the third stair from the top, the door swung open. Duke Ewart of Fallad stood there, his eyes darting from her to the church across the square.

Please come in. Ewart stepped aside.

Brenna entered his Silverdale home followed by Kane, Dasid and then Gaskain. Ewart closed the door and ushered them into a sitting room. Brenna took a seat on a padded bench and leaned her pack against her legs as her companions quietly sat on chairs that ringed a large, low table.

I didn’t see any merchants in the square, Kane said.

Brenna looked up in surprise. Kane was right. As they rode through she’d seen people in the square but mostly Duke Ewart’s militia. The last time she’d visited Silverdale the square had been bustling with merchants and their customers, as well as priests of the One-God. The largest church in Fallad stood on the opposite side of the square.

Yes, Duke Ewart replied. Merchants are worried and only priests who are too old or frail to leave are still at the church. My men tell me the rest packed up and left as soon as the news about King Mattias’ death reached Silverdale. That was almost a week ago. Ewart paced in front of the fireplace. I’ve sent more troops to the borders. He stopped beside the mantel and turned to face them. I doubt Thorold will do anything hostile, at least not until I’ve declared that I’m opposing him, but I thought it better to be prepared. I’ve sent messages advising all Falladian communities to prepare for a hard winter and I’ve been recruiting more men for the militia. I want my people and my duchy ready.

Have your staff left then? Is that why you answered your door yourself? Brenna asked.

I have a cook still and someone to clean, but I told the rest of my household staff to see to their families, Ewart said. Some of the men have joined the militia. He looked from her to Kane. I’m hoping that you can help train and outfit the new recruits.

Dasid and I can do that, Kane said. But you know we cannot pledge to you.

I understand, Ewart said. His gaze swiveled back to Brenna. We’ll all be pledging to Brenna soon enough anyway.

Yes, Kane said.

Even from where she sat Brenna felt Kane relax and some of the tension in the room evaporated. She’d told Kane that this would be Ewart’s answer, but they all knew what it meant. Duke Ewart of Fallad had just acknowledged that he would rebel against the crown. Thorold would call him a traitor and in the eyes of the law, he was. But they had their safe haven in Fallad, a place where they could begin their campaign to save Soule.

Refugees have been crossing into Fallad for weeks, Ewart said. Many of them have already enlisted in my militia and I also have a number of volunteers from here in Silverdale so you’ll have a lot to do right away.

Brenna’s eyes drooped closed as the conversation hummed around her. She reached down to her pack and her hand slid inside it almost without being aware of it. But she knew the minute she touched the coronet.

Almost every moment since King Mattias’ death the coronet had been a constant presence in her mind. Usually, it was a gentle hum just below every waking thought she had, but at times it changed to a whisper while at other times it turned into a simple song. But when she tried to ignore it, the coronet blared loudly. It only allowed her peace when she actually touched it. When her hand was in contact with the old steel the metal felt warm, almost alive, and the sound it made was like a contented purr. Brenna had taken to sleeping with one hand curled around coronet just to be able to get some rest.

Brenna.

With a start she opened her eyes and met Kane’s concerned gaze.

Are you feeling all right? Kane asked.

Somehow she’d slid down until she was lying on the bench, her body curled around her pack and the coronet inside it. Kane took her arm and helped her sit up before he moved back to his own chair.

I’m fine. I’m just tired. She pushed a hand through her hair.

Are you sure? Ewart asked. He frowned. I’ve been a terrible host. Can get you something to eat or drink? Tea perhaps?

Thank you, no, Brenna said. I really am fine. It’s the coronet. It’s been very insistent since King Mattias died.

Insistent about what?

About being worn. By me. Brenna pulled the coronet out of her pack. The plain silver-colored band shone brightly in the dim room. If touching it made it purr, then bringing it out into full view made it roar: there could be no doubt that it wanted to be out and acknowledged.

I can hear it, Ewart said.

"Yes, sometimes it gets louder when it’s on display but I always hear it in my head. Brenna grimaced. I’m getting better at ignoring it but when I’m tired, like today, it’s more difficult."

Ewart edged closer and peered at the coronet. He reached out a hand and tentatively touched it. It doesn’t react to me. Not enough of the same blood?

It doesn’t react to anyone other than Brenna, Kane said. Even though it’s old steel, like the Brotherhood’s weapons.

What will make it stop? Ewart asked.

I think it will only stop when Brenna declares herself queen and wears the coronet openly. Kane looked over at her.

I’m not ready, not yet. Brenna stared at the coronet and ran her hand over the smooth old steel. I need to know more about Beldyn and what role he wants to play.

He’ll be crowned king, Ewart said. What else do you need to know? There can only be one ruler and if that’s you then it can’t be Beldyn. Ewart crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her sternly but then his face softened and he sighed. I know you still think of him as the little boy who trailed after you when you were younger Brenna, but it must be one or the other of you.

But he’s unwilling to rule, she said. We know that from Jemma, a Brother who has befriended him. Brenna and Kane had discussed this more than once but she would not change her mind. I need more information before I declare myself queen and openly pit myself against Beldyn. She didn’t want to do anything before she could talk to Beldyn: he deserved to know what she was planning. He’d trusted her when they were younger and she didn’t want to do anything to change that. He was family to me, and I to him, Brenna continued. I won’t give up on that until I absolutely have to.

Jemma had promised to contact her as soon as Beldyn visited her again. If he visited her again. There was no guarantee that he’d get the chance to slip away from his formal duties now that King Mattias was dead. There were three weeks left of the official mourning period and then Beldyn’s coronation would take place. Brenna sighed and stroked the coronet again. She had to talk to Beldyn before then because her coronation would be held the same day.

I don’t like it, Ewart said, frowning. We have no idea if Beldyn is even telling the truth. For all you know he’s working with his father and telling you what Thorold wants you to know.

It’s a risk, Kane agreed. At this point everything we know leads us to believe that Beldyn does not want the crown. Has that changed? That’s one reason Brenna is so tired. He shook his head and looked over at her. Since Mattias’ death she’s spent most nights in contact with Brothers in Kingsreach, Aruntun and Fallad trying to find out more.

A few weeks is all I’m asking for, Brenna said. I’ll need to declare when Beldyn does. By that time the Brothers from the training facility should be here and the forge should be making progress on creating old steel weapons.

All right, Duke Ewart said. I’d rather not have Thorold know I’m supporting you until then anyway. He won’t really worry about me until closer to the coronation.

And we’ll be a few more weeks nearer to winter, Kane said. We’re not ready for a fall campaign, not until the recruits get some training, so the longer we can deceive Thorold the more likely he won’t be able to strike until spring.

Yes, Ewart agreed. He looked relieved. If we can postpone the fighting until spring we have some time to prepare properly.

We don’t think Thorold can be ready to mount an offensive before winter, Kane said. But if he has a few more weeks without any real opposition it will be even harder for him. By that time his plans will have been made and it will be too late in the season to change course.

Hopefully Thorold’s own forces will stay in Comack for the winter. Ewart nodded. Do we know where you want your training camp?

Gaskain and I will be handling that, Dasid spoke from his seat by the fire. With your permission we’ll take stock of what’s available and where we can house the men and start getting things set up.

Good, Ewart said. Let me know what you need from me.

Brenna was surrounded by women in glittering gowns and men in formal attire with family and guild crests displayed prominently on velvet and silk coats and vests. The soft strains of music played in the background, almost drowned out by the hum of conversation and the clink of glasses. There, wasn’t that Carolie Brunger with her father the Guild Master? Standing close to them, holding two punch glasses, was Colm. His blond curls were subdued and he’d grown taller since his days as one of her drill partners.

Brenna tried to move towards him but the crowd surged around her and she was propelled in the opposite direction, toward a high dais where Duke Thorold sat and overlooked the assembly. He had a small, self-satisfied smile on his face and Brenna balled her fists, her lip curled in disgust. Her grandfather: she would never become anything like him. Then she was moving past him, through a small door and down a long corridor and finally into another room.

When Brenna entered, the furious activity of several servants stopped and they froze, surrounding the figure who sat hunched into yards of blue silk, the gold thread shimmering in bright patterns. It was Beldyn. He turned to her, misery on his face.

Help me Brenna.

She heard his whisper, saw the pleading in his eyes and she nodded.

Yes, she answered. See Jemma. I’ll help. Beldyn’s image started to fade but before he was gone, Brenna caught a look of relief on his face.

Kane gently opened the door to enter the room he and Brenna were sharing. He’d insisted that she come up and rest for as long as she could since she needed to be awake later to communicate with the Brotherhood. something she’d been doing every night since Mattias’ death. He stepped over to the bed, his smile turning to a frown when she rolled over and flung her arm out.

I’ll help, Brenna whispered.

Kane caught her wrist and held it, stroking the back of her hand until she settled and her breathing evened out.

He should wake her—that was the only way to make sure she remembered a vision—but she needed the sleep. It would be well past midnight before she had a chance to rest again. Kane gently sat on the bed and pulled Brenna’s head onto his lap.

He’d tried to explain her exhaustion to the others but even Dasid didn’t fully understand. It took energy for Brenna to communicate through old steel. It was easier with people she knew, like Jemma and Yowan, but contacting someone she didn’t know well was so difficult that she couldn’t do it without Kane’s help.

Kane urged her to draw energy from him–just as she’d done when she’d been captured by Thorold’s men—but she refused, saying that he needed his strength to accomplish his own tasks. And he did. But nothing else was as important as ensuring her health and wellbeing. And despite her assurances, he knew that rescuing Neal and Duchess Avery had depleted her more than she would admit and that she still hadn’t fully recovered from that.

Brenna snuggled closer to him and he gently smoothed a hand over her hair. He would never forget the utter despair he’d felt when he’d seen Duke Thorold’s guards carry her away from him.

He’d seen a berserker once, while on patrol along the border of Langemore. A bandit had gone wild when they’d tried to capture him. At the time Kane had wondered what could cause a man to lose control so completely. Now he knew.

Later, after they’d rescued Brenna, he’d seen the nervous looks some of the men sent his way. Even Gaskain and Dasid had been wary of him for a few days. Kane couldn’t blame them. Dasid had told him he’d been responsible for the deaths of over a dozen of Thorold’s guards. All Kane could remember was his overwhelming need to reach Brenna.

He settled back against the wall and closed his eyes. He never wanted to feel that way ever again.

Brenna sighed, feeling rough fabric against her cheek. For a moment she thought they were still on the road and her cloak was under her head, then she moved and she felt the warm solidness of a body beneath the fabric. Kane. She smiled and opened her eyes, tilting her head and squinting up at him in the dim room. His chin was tucked onto his chest and his mouth was relaxed in sleep. She sat up a little and his eyes opened.

Were you sent to wake me? Brenna asked.

Kane’s smile answered her own and he shrugged.

It was only dinner. They’ll keep something warm for us.

You hope. If not I expect you to cook. Brenna rolled off the bed, stood up and stretched. Her stomach rumbled and she yawned. On second thought, I’m not sure I’m desperate enough to eat anything you cook.

When Kane stood he pulled her in his arms. She leaned into him and took a deep breath, enjoying his scent.

You won’t have to, Kane said. You’re going to be queen. They’ll have saved some dinner for you.

Finally, something good about being queen, Brenna said.

Kane drew back enough to look down at her. You’ll be able to do a lot of good.

I know. But I’d rather someone else did it. She reached up and kissed him, savouring the warmth of his lips, of him, before stepping away with another sigh.

Let’s go. It must almost be time to start contacting the others. Brenna picked up her knife belt and strapped the weapon around her waist before leaning down to clutch her pack.

Feeling pleasantly full, Brenna placed her knife beside her pack on the low table in front of her. Kane had been right and a warm meal had been waiting for them when they came downstairs. Before retiring for the evening, the cook had left a pot of soup and a fresh loaf of bread warming by the fire. It hadn’t taken either of them long to polish off their late meal.

Is it time? Kane asked. He pulled a chair up beside her.

They were in Ewart’s sitting room and Ewart, Dasid, Gaskain, Kane and Brenna all sat around the low table that held Brenna’s pack and knife.

I think so, Brenna said. She picked up her knife and fingered it. Kane placed his knife—the knife that had once belonged to his uncle—on the table and she reached a hand out and touched that as well. They would try to contact Guild Master Brunger first. Brenna always had trouble contacting the Guild Master but for some reason Kane’s presence made it possible. Brenna also didn’t get as tired and drained when he joined with her.

She gripped her knife more tightly and Kane reached over and wrapped his hand over hers before leaning over to touch his own knife.

"Guild Master, Kane said through the old steel. It’s Kane and Brenna. We’ve reached Duke Ewart in Silverdale."

The response was weak and Brenna focused on it, trying to strengthen the connection.

"I’m here."

The enthusiasm in Marcus Brunger’s voice made Brenna smile. The Guild Master had taken to spying with wit, determination and glee. Marcus Brunger and Eryl Fentin: Brenna wasn’t sure who had the best network or who was having more fun but between them they had most of Kingsreach under surveillance.

"Your report, please," Kane said.

"The church of the One-God has been appropriating quarters for many priests. It seems they are bringing them in from all over the country."

"According to Ewart they left Silverdale as soon as word came that King Mattias was dead. Do you know what they’re doing?" Kane asked.

"I hear that they’re here to witness the coronation, Marcus Brunger said. Thorold is determined to use the church to impart divine approval on Beldyn’s ascension to the throne."

"We are glad that they’re not here, Kane said. I’m sure Thorold would know our every move if they were. And there are still no reports that he’s building an army?"

"Our contacts in the Kingsguard report no unusual orders or training," Brunger said.

"Good. Let me know if that changes. We hope to postpone any battles until spring. Is there anything else?"

"News for Brenna, Marcus said. From Eryl. The seamstress’ shop has been ransacked by the Thorold’s men. The seamstress has been taken."

"Mistress Dudding? Brenna asked. Is she all right?"

"Eryl thinks not. He’s had his gang out looking for her but there’s no news. He assumes she’s dead."

"Dead, Brenna said. Because of me? Brenna’s heart sank and she frowned. I haven’t even seen her since the night the church killed Sabine Werret instead of me."

"Thorold found out you used to live there, Marcus replied. At least that’s what Eryl’s hearing from the Quarter. The men who took the seamstress were asking about you. They were also asking about Eryl."

"But he’s safe?" Kane asked.

"Yes."

"Why now?" Brenna asked.

"Because Mattias is gone, Kane said. Thorold can do what he wants without opposition."

"Yes, Marcus agreed. I’d say he’s displaying his power."

"But Mistress Dudding was no threat," Brenna said.

"No but she can be a lesson, Kane replied. A warning to the rest of the Quarter that helping you is dangerous."

Brenna clutched her knife and Kane’s grip tightened around her hand. Mistress Dudding was dead because of her. Someone she’d barely thought about in all the months since she’d been taken in by the Brotherhood was dead because she’d known Brenna, had been kind to Brenna.

"Tell Eryl to stay safe," Kane said. Gently he peeled her hand from her knife and folded her into his arms, gently resting his head on top of hers.

It’s my fault, Brenna said. Her voice caught in her throat and she leaned into Kane.

No, he said firmly. It’s Thorold’s fault.

Kane’s head lifted off of hers. Someone who helped Brenna before the prophecy was set in motion has been taken by Thorold’s men, Kane explained to the others in the room. Now they’re looking for Eryl.

Can he get out of Kingsreach? Dasid asked.

He won’t leave, Brenna said. Not Eryl. She wiped a hand across her eyes and sat up. He always says that the Quarter will look after its own. I hope it does.

Is Thorold targeting people Brenna knows? Dasid asked.

It seems so. Kane sighed. Brenna, who else would be at risk?

Who else? Brenna shook her head. Half the people in the Quarter have been customers. I never turned away anyone who was ill. Other than that, there’s Pater, his nephew Martyn and Mistress Mundy over at the Wheat Sheaf.

Where the healer from Aruntun was killed, Kane said. We’ll ask Eryl to keep an eye on her. Pater and Martyn are Brotherhood: you can’t keep them safe.

But I’ll feel responsible if anything happens to them, Brenna said.

They’re helping you save Soule from Thorold. That’s their choice, Kane replied.

I don’t want any more of my friends to die, Brenna said.

She got up to pace the room. Kane was right, Mistress Dudding’s death wasn’t her fault, not really, but it felt like it. And it didn’t change the fact that people were in danger—and dying—because of her. She had to put it out of her mind. She had more to do tonight, more people to contact. She sighed heavily and sat back down. Kane clasped her hand and she sighed again. Time to get back to work.

Brenna stretched, wincing when her muscles protested. She always tried to relax when contacting others through old steel but when she was done, she invariably found that she’d been tensing her muscles and clenching her hands. Tonight was worse: finding out about Mistress Dudding had put her even more on edge than usual. She leaned against the hearth and rubbed her hands in front of the flames, trying to warm them up.

Here, drink this.

Kane handed her a mug of tea and she wrapped one stiff hand around it. She took a small sip and sighed.

Just one more tonight, he said.

Two, Brenna replied. I want to talk to Jemma.

Do you need to?

Yes. I must have had a Seeing when I was asleep. I keep hearing Jemma’s name in my head. She sipped her tea and shook her head. She’s our best connection to Beldyn right now. She needs to see him.

Kane looped an arm around her shoulder and simply waited, silent, as she finished her tea.

Jemma first then, Kane said. He took her mug from her and steered her back to her seat.

The others all settled in as she picked up her knife once more.

"Jemma, are you there?" Despite her fatigue Brenna found Jemma easily.

"Brenna?" Jemma replied.

"It’s me, Brenna said. You need to see Beldyn."

After a quick conversation Brenna broke the link to the younger girl.

I asked her to try to see Beldyn as soon as possible, Brenna said. She said that all the guilds are putting forth their best goods for the coronation so I told her to talk to Marcus Brunger. He can make sure she’s part of any delegation. We’ll need to let Marcus know next time we contact him. Brenna stood and stretched her arms overhead before sitting down again.

Jemma confirmed what Marcus said, she continued. "The church of the One-God is housing many, many priests in the neighbourhood around the church. They’ve mostly been welcomed into homes but Jemma has heard of a few families who were forced out. The families haven’t been seen since and the rumour is they were sent to the High Bishop for being uncharitable." Brenna couldn’t stop her shudder. So many people hurt—or worse—in the name of the One-God. Kane’s uncle Feiren, Neal Ravershaw, Mistress Dudding and now innocent families. Thorold and the High Bishop had to be stopped.

Brenna took a shaky breath and handed her second empty mug to Kane. She’d protested the delay when he’d first insisted that she take a break between each contact through old steel but now she was grateful for every short respite. Especially tonight. She couldn’t stop thinking about poor Mistress Dudding and it was sapping her energy. She kept picturing the seamstress confused and shaken, wondering why the church or the Kingsguard or whoever had taken her kept asking about a tenant who had died a year ago.

Brenna shrugged her shoulders, trying to work out the kinks. Kane’s fingers massaged her tight muscles and she leaned back into him.

Ready for Yowan? he asked.

She nodded. She usually left her grandfather for last. Not only was he the easiest for her to contact, being both a Brother and her close relative, but somehow he projected love and care across the old steel. Tonight, she needed to feel that more than ever.

Kane sat down beside her and again they both reached for the knives.

"Yowan, grandfather," she sent outward.

"Brenna love. Good to hear from you." The response was immediate and Brenna smiled at the warmth in her grandfather’s tone.

"We made it to Silverdale and Duke Ewart’s safely. The Brotherhood training facility will be moved here as soon as possible. Dasid thinks in the next few weeks."

"That’s good news, Yowan paused. What’s wrong? You’re upset about something. Are you all right?"

"I’m fine, Brenna said. It’s just …" Brenna squeezed her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill. She felt Kane’s hand on her shoulder and she sighed.

"We’ve had bad news from Kingsreach, she said. An old friend was taken by Thorold’s men. Someone who was kind to me a long time ago."

"Ah, so he’s trying to hurt you through those you care about."

"We think so," Brenna said.

"You can’t let him weaken you, Yowan said. You’re at war now, casualties are going to happen."

"But she died because of me!"

"And you’re trying to put things right for everyone, including her family, Yowan said firmly. You’re almost queen now. People will die for you: you’ll need to accept that."

"I don’t want to accept it, Brenna said. I don’t want people to die for me."

"That’s not your choice, Yowan said. And it’s not about you; it’s about what you represent. People have a right to decide what they believe is worth dying for. Your part in this is to not let their deaths be wasted."

"But I’m a healer. I should be able to help, Brenna said. I don’t like that people are dead because of me."

"And that’s a good thing, Yowan said. Others might not be so concerned. My guess is Thorold wouldn’t be. Now you make sure you get some enough sleep. Tell Kane I said so."

"I heard. I’ve already made her miss one meal for sleep," Kane replied.

Her grandfather chuckled. "Good lad. She’ll argue but you know what she needs. Just make sure she does what you say."

"And that works with Madelay does it?" Brenna asked.

"At times, Yowan drawled and Brenna smiled. Sometimes she just needs me to remind her she that shouldn’t feel guilty for taking care of herself."

"And how is my grandmother?"

"She’s holding her own. After we crossed the border we met up with others fleeing Kingsreach. Now we’ve found Laurel and Clift at an encampment of some sort. Yowan paused briefly and Brenna knew he was talking to someone else. Laurel says you’ll know the place, Brenna. On your say so Avery had lowered the magical barrier and posted healers with supplies and wagons to help move people further into Aruntun."

Brenna’s closed her eyes and her shoulders sagged. She’d been able to change her vision from the spring. It was a relief to know it was possible. "And Neal and the Brothers who were hurt during the rescue? she asked. Are they still doing well?"

"Madelay says Neal is still mending as well as can be expected and those who were wounded are all on their feet today. Avery is furious with Duke Thorold. And she blames herself for letting Thorold have a free hand for so many years."

"He fooled us all, Kane said. She should not waste her energy blaming herself."

"Eventually she will accept that. Yowan’s voice was sad. But she feels that Neal suffered because of her poor judgment. Neal feels differently: he blames Duke Thorold and High Bishop Valden."

"As he should," Brenna said, angry. Only the High Bishop had ordered Neal’s body to be cut and mutilated. And Thorold had handed him over to Valden knowing exactly what would be done to him.

"Aye, but we’ll stop them, Yowan said. We’ll head to Smithin after a few days rest. Contact me whenever you need to, I’ll keep my knife close." Yowan broke the connection.

Brenna pulled her stiff fingers back from the knives and rubbed them together, stifling a yawn. She picked up her knife and slipped it back into its sheath at her waist while