Healer (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 2) Page 13

  “That looks about right,” Kane said. “Now that we’re on our way I trust you have something in your pack to help me keep the contents of my stomach where they belong?”

  Walking on deck while the Sea Sprite was slicing through the water took a skill Brenna had yet to master. She lurched from point to point, envying the sailors their smooth rolling gaits. She’d given Kane a piece of ginger to chew on to ward off his sour stomach and dizziness and now he was easily navigating the pitching deck. She, on the other hand, the thief who prided herself on her sure-footedness, could not manage the rolling motion. She was lucky if she remained upright. Even the horses were better at it than she was.

  For the first three days Brenna had been a constant source of jokes for the crew but once they found out she was responsible for the wind in the sails, they’d laughed less and helped her more. Still, it was humiliating. Kane kept telling her to relax but she couldn’t, not when each step might send her sprawling. Gripping the rail, staring out across the wide blue expanse of the sea, Brenna wished to be on solid land again. But they had just rounded the southern tip of Soule and had at least another ten days of sailing.

  ten

  Duke Thorold paced his office at his estate. The message he’d received from Stobert had not contained any worthwhile information. The man had not been able to find out where Kane Rowse and the girl were, or the location of the training camp. He knew it was somewhere in Fallad but Duke Ewart’s troops had not allowed Stobert to search. It seemed that Ewart was working against him. Even worse, the moment Duchess Avery left Kingsreach to attend some festival in Aruntun, Duke Ewart had arrived back from his own holdings. Thorold could barely mask his frustration.

  All those years he’d been planning and plotting, all those years when Fallad and Aruntun had kept to themselves and let him run things, now they were interested, now they were meddling, now they were counseling the king. It was more than a coincidence. He’d half expected Ewart to become a problem, after all the man’s father had been a close friend of Feiren Rowse. Thorold could easily overcome one dissenting voice, especially when it was from a young duke - but the duchess was a different challenge. The king trusted her judgment. And now that the two of them were counseling the same thing he had to be extra diligent to make sure the king wasn’t swayed by them. Were they working together? Why, after all these years, was the duchess even bothering?

  Thorold stopped pacing and sat in the chair behind his desk. He looked up at the old knives on his wall - the weapons that had pointed him to the Brotherhood. It was time to destroy the Brotherhood - and Duchess Avery as well. The High Bishop’s experiment in Comack had proven such a success that it was time to have him deliver that message to all of Soule. Thorold smiled a thin, satisfied smile. The church of the One-God was about to save Soule.

  Brenna finally found a way to walk on the ship. She strolled across the deck toward Kane and Captain Chaffer, grinning widely but as she got closer them she noticed the concerned look on the captain’s face.

  “It’s unnatural I say,” Chaffer said as he looked up at the puffed out sails. “The wind is blowing as hard and steady as ever, yet the sea is as calm as can be.”

  Kane’s gaze steadied on her. “I think that it is unnatural, isn’t it Brenna?”

  The captain’s head dropped and he turned to glare at her. “Is this your doing lass?”

  “Well, yes.” Brenna’s smile faltered. “I thought it would be so much easier for everyone if the sea was flat.”

  “For everyone?” Kane raised an eyebrow.

  “Stop it, right now, that’s an order,” Captain Chaffer’s voice was low.

  “But I ..”

  “I gave a direct order,” Chaffer said. “This is my ship.”

  Brenna swallowed and instantly dropped the spell on the sea around the ship. The Sea Sprite immediately dipped into the trough of a wave and Brenna’s feet went out from under her. If Kane hadn’t grabbed her arm she would have stumbled to the deck.

  “In the future,” Captain Chaffer said. “Do not do anything without my consent. I’m responsible for this ship and all the lives aboard her. Don’t ever forget that.” Chaffer stared at her for a few seconds before he walked away.

  “I was only trying to help,” Brenna said quietly.

  “I know,” Kane said. “But Chaffer is the only authority here. Even the king would have to follow a ships captain’s orders. To do otherwise could mean death for everyone on board.”

  Dejectedly, Brenna headed for her and Kane’s cabin. She opened the door to the tiny cabin and heaved herself into one of the two hammocks. At least here she couldn’t feel the swaying of the ship very much. She concentrated on her body for a moment tweaking the places where she was controlling her nausea and headaches. Too bad she couldn’t figure out how to mend whatever caused her balance to be off.

  She’d apologized to Captain Chaffer in front of his second-in-command. He’d accepted it with a single sharp nod, leaving her to wonder if the apology was enough.

  All she’d wanted to do was walk without sprawling on the deck - she was tired of being the laughing stock of the entire crew day after day.

  After a quick knock on the door Kane entered, filling the tiny room with his presence. His dark hair was tousled by the wind and his blue eyes stood out against skin that was getting tanned by the spring sun that reflected off the water. Since she’d been helping him control his seasickness with ginger and teas, Kane had taken to dressing like the sailors and his feet were bare as he padded silently over to her. Brenna carefully sat up and moved over in the hammock as he settled in beside her, one arm draped across her shoulder. Despite her balance problems on deck, she and Kane had become very good at navigating the intricacies of the hammock. It made for some very interesting nights.

  “I apologized to Captain Chaffer,” she said into his shoulder.

  “So did I.” His reply startled her and she looked up into his serious blue eyes. “I failed to advise you. I’m sorry. I assumed you knew that a commander must have total control at all times. That was my error.”

  “But it seemed such a simple thing. Make the sea flat.”

  “Simple?” Kane’s eyebrows arched. “That was simple? Besides, it wasn’t what you did, it was that you did it without his permission.” Kane smiled. “It certainly helped my nausea.”

  “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

  “He already has,” Kane said. “Otherwise he’d have locked you up.”

  She looked up at him in surprise. “He’d do that?”

  “If he felt his authority and the safety of this vessel was in danger, yes.”

  “I won’t give him cause,” Brenna said.

  “Then there’s nothing to worry about,” Kane said.

  He leaned over and kissed her and she forgot all about Captain Rian Chaffer.

  Over the next few days Brenna tried to keep to herself and out Captain Chaffer’s way. She took her meals in her own cabin and spent time on deck with Kane and Yowan, trying to overcome the problems with her balance. Both men drilled her with practice knives and she found that when she concentrated on her footwork she was able to use her imbalance to her advantage. The practice sessions gathered crowds of off-duty sailors and as her knife techniques improved, she found the sailors helping her to her feet after her usual tumbles to the deck. But after ten days at sea she still didn’t have her sea legs.

  She also spent a lot of time in the hold with the horses. There wasn’t much room but she took to walking each horse in turn, trying to give them as much exercise as possible. They seemed to enjoy her company and the earthy smells of hay and oats and even horse dung soothed her. She almost didn’t feel the rolling of the ship while pressed up against Blaze.

  Often, after she looked after the horses, she’d perch on a bale of hay and cast her mind out to search for old steel, searching out her friends. Dasid was just outside of Kingsreach and Carolie and Colm, who were spying on Beldyn, were often near each other in the even
ings. She worried that Carolie was wearing her knife to what must be social events even as she was relieved that the girl understood there were dangers.

  So far Jemma had remained in one spot, in what Brenna assumed was her weavers shop.

  Westley Stobert, who had betrayed she and Kane in Silverdale, was often on the move but the distances he traveled were short and repetitive. Kane had laughed when she’d told him, saying that Thorold was keeping the man on a short leash.

  The new Captain of the Kingsguard, Duke Thorold’s loyal swordsman Barton - his old steel weapon radiating malevolence - rarely left Kingsreach. He was living in Feiren Rowse’s home, and that made Brenna sad. She wondered how he could carry a weapon that must be draining his energy.

  Brenna was tempted to reach out and try to contact Dasid through the old steel but Kane had advised against it. They had nothing to report to him - nothing he needed to know in order to fulfill his tasks and knowledge of where they were could put them all in danger. The possibility that Dasid could be caught and the information tortured from him, made Brenna shudder. Duke Thorold had already allowed the High Bishop to convert Kingsguardsmen suspected of being in the Brotherhood - more than a few had died while awaiting execution.

  Brenna also practiced trying to See - she often went into the trance Lauren had taught her but all she Saw were sunny days and the bright blue sea - no more visions of dying women and children. And try as she might she was unable to catch a glimpse of her grandmother. She worried that they would be too late - her grandmother had been moved somewhere else or had even died before they could reach her. After too many days without a successful glimpse of her grandmother, Brenna gave up and concentrated on her spells. She spent hours making her and the four horses invisible, getting them all used to it. She dealt with the resulting headaches by increasing the flow of blood through her body.

  Finally, on the thirteenth day at sea, she, Kane and Yowan were summoned to the captain’s cabin. They would be landing soon and he wanted to discuss the details. Brenna, still unsure of the captain’s welcome, followed the two men into the small room, her map clutched tight.

  Captain Chaffer sat behind a table, a large map spread out on it.

  “Sit down,” Chaffer said.

  Brenna squeezed onto a bench beside Kane and put her folded up map on the table. Yowan took a single chair beside them.

  “We’ve made good time, no doubt thanks to Brenna here,” Chaffer said. “By my course-plotting we’re close to where we want to put you ashore.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “I’m sending a couple of my lads ashore tonight to scout. There should be a small village around here.” His finger moved south a little, to what looked like a small cove.

  “I’ll go,” Brenna said.

  “No,” Kane and Yowan said together, while Captain Chaffer simply looked at her in disbelief.

  “I’m the only one who can do this without attracting attention,” she said.

  “And why’s that?” Chaffer asked.

  Brenna met the captain’s gaze. “I can see in the dark better than any of you,” she replied. “I’ll look less threatening if anyone does see me - I can contact Kane if I’m in trouble - and I can do this for hours.” She spelled herself invisible.

  Chaffer’s expression, seen through the dimness that always accompanied invisibility, was thoughtful.

  “Well, that does change things,” Chaffer said dryly. “Kane, what do you say?”

  When Kane sighed, Brenna reversed her invisibility.

  “I don’t like it,” Kane said. “But strategically it’s our best chance for success. But I’ll be in the boat with Yowan and some of Captain Chaffer’s best fighters.” Both Yowan and the captain nodded. “If anything goes wrong we’ll be able to get to you quickly.”

  She was going ashore! Despite the risks all Brenna could think about was the relief of actually walking on solid ground. She pulled her black leather vest over her black shirt, securely belted her knife around her waist and tied her hair back with a simple string. Ready, she slung her pack over her shoulder and left the cabin.

  On deck Brenna silently padded up to the men who were readying a small boat. She’d opted for her black slippers rather than her boots, hoping they were sturdy enough to get her through the woods to the village. She was almost upon them when her feet suddenly flew out from under her and she sprawled at Kane’s feet.

  “Don’t you dare laugh,” she said through gritted teeth as he calmly grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

  “I would never do that.” Kane said.

  “It looks like you’ve done this before.” Captain Chaffer’s look was appraising. He nodded. “I’m feeling more comfortable with you going.”

  It took a few minutes to get the boat lowered but finally Brenna stepped over the rail and climbed down the ladder. Two sailors handed her forward to the prow and she settled on the small bench there. Kane and Yowan quickly climbed into the boat, swords glinting in the pale moonlight. The sailors fixed the oars into the locks and started to row away from the ship.

  Brenna looked ahead, towards the shore, trying to get her bearings. The moon was a sliver tonight and the sky was cloudless - stars sparkled overhead. As the dark shape of the shoreline loomed closer she looked back at the ship - a black hulk against the black sea with a single light to guide them back bobbing gently in the bow.

  They set her ashore at the north end of the cove, one sailor holding her hand while she stepped into the cold water. As quietly as she could Brenna waded to shore. She held her slippers aloft as she felt along the rocky bottom for safe footholds. It would be easy, and dangerous, to stumble into the cold wet sea - the chill in the air would make her cold and the sounds could rouse the village. In moments the solid earth was beneath her feet and she could walk with sure-footed confidence.

  Brenna put her slippers back on and skirted the sandy beach to huddle at the base of a tree. She felt for Kane - he was moving away slowly and she sent a mental nudge along his sword to let him know she was fine. The village was south. Brenna spelled herself invisible and headed there.

  The village was so small that even the captain’s map hadn’t named it. There were no more than half a dozen cottages and the windows on them were small and tight, much like the houses in Lakeview - no doubt to help keep out the cold wind that blew in off the sea. The cottages were nestled behind a grove of evergreen trees and fishing boats were pulled up to a small dock that stretched out into the water.

  Brenna kept to the shadows as she circled the village, looking for lights in any of the cottages. Finally, she saw a light shine as a door swung open and a man staggered out. He headed for an outbuilding, tried unsuccessfully to open the door a few times, and then fumbled with his breeches. Brenna grinned when she heard the sound of water splashing against the wood of the outbuilding. He was too drunk to make it into the privy - the town would be too small to have a tavern but it obviously had a place where they gathered to drink. Once the man re-entered the house Brenna edged closer.

  The small window was high up on the wall, close to where the thatch overhung the roof. The shutters weren’t pulled quite tight this late in the spring and Brenna was able to peek through the small gap between the weathered wood and the top of the windowsill.

  Three men sat around a table, mugs and cups of various designs and materials in front of them. All three had close-shaved heads and chins, which Brenna thought unusual until she remembered the Lakeview family whose house had been infested with fleas over the winter. She muttered a small warding spell, hoping to keep any and all vermin away from her.

  “Give us s’more of that fish swill, would ye Akers?”

  Brenna thought it was the man who had been outside who spoke. He raised his mug with an unsteady hand as the man directly facing Brenna tipped a cracked jug and splashed some liquid in his mug. Akers turned his small, mean eyes to the third person in the room.

  “How about you, Priest, want more?”

  A fourth man stepped
into Brenna’s view. He’d been against the wall the window was on.

  “No thank you, Master Stubbins,” the priest said. “A hot tea is refreshment enough for me while I do the One-God’s work, although I do appreciate the offer.” The priest paced around the table, his gray cloak hanging off his arm. “I must be getting back to Mistress Minns soon. I’m afraid I’ve put the woman out of her own bed. There’s no need to make things worse by keeping her up until all hours waiting for me.”

  “She won’t mind,” Akers said and laughed loudly. “And she’d like as not share the bed wit ye as well.” Akers and his two friends raised their glasses and drank. The priest turned towards the window and Brenna caught the look of calculation that flitted across his face.

  “Before I go,” the priest said. “I want to impress on you the importance of my message.” The priest turned back to them. “The church is counting on you, the town leaders. We must guard against the blasphemers - the witches and others who deny the One-God’s existence and cling to their old beliefs.”

  “Ye can count on us,” Stubbins lifted his mug again in salute. “Any witches come around here, we’ll stone ‘em.”

  “No, no,” the priest said. “You must capture them and send word to the church. The High Bishop has declared that all witches will have the chance to denounce their gods and be saved. In his compassion he would not deny salvation to those who need it.”

  Brenna thought about the pain Feiren had endured at the hands of the High Bishop and frowned. She could do without his type of compassion.

  The priest left and Brenna, still hunched by the window, saw him enter another nearby cottage. The three men left inside - the village leaders - Brenna thought with disgust, spent the next few minutes detailing how they would save any witch they came across. None of them seemed to understand that a witch, a real witch, might have some power they couldn’t combat with brute strength and cruelty.