Healer (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 2) Page 7

  “That’s right,” Kane said. He leaned back against the table and said nothing more.

  Brenna turned back to Eamon. “We both came through Cottle late in the fall. We didn’t stay long, but I had some sad news for Sabine Werret’s mother. We were with the duchess.”

  “You’re the one who was with Sabine when she died in Kingsreach?” Eamon asked. She nodded and his eyes widened. He looked at her first before his gaze settled on Kane. “Then you’re the Captain of the Kingsguard. You’re the friend of Neal Ravershaw who stayed with old man Larson two weeks back.”

  “Former Captain of the Kingsguard.” Kane nodded. “And while I do know Neal, Larson was a friend of my uncle’s - served under him in the Guard, as a matter of fact. He retired to Cottle when his son married an Aruntian.”

  Eamon didn’t say long after that. It seemed that once he realized who Kane was he couldn’t get away fast enough. He said he was expected at his aunt’s house for dinner so he could tell them all the news - he would be heading directly back to Cottle the next day. But Brenna was confused. Anyone from his family could have been sent on this errand, but they chose to send a handsome, single young man.

  “You scared him off.” Brenna glared at Kane. He continued to lean against the table, hands crossed over his chest.

  “I did no such thing,” Kane said. “You were here the whole time. What did I do or say? And what would I have scared him off of, anyway?”

  “Me,” Brenna said. Laurel came back into the house after seeing Eamon off. “He was here to see me, to court me, wasn’t he Laurel? And you scared him off.”

  “Court you? Why would he be here to court you?” Kane asked.

  “Why wouldn’t he? I am a Seer and a magic user, both valuable talents in Aruntun.”

  Kane walked over and stopped in front of her. “You need to make a political match,” he said softly. “Besides, you’d sell yourself to a man who only wants you for what you are, not who you are?”

  “No,” she said. “But that’s exactly what you think I should do. You just think I need to get a better price.”

  “I…,” Kane started and then stopped.

  “It must be my choice,” Brenna said gently, reaching a hand to him. “I think I’ve made it clear who my choice is.”

  Kane shrugged away from her and headed back out the door. Brenna’s eyes followed him and remained glued to the door long after he’d slammed it behind him. Did he think he was so much better than anyone else, trying to save her for a political marriage? What happened to him believing that they had to follow her path?

  “I’m not sure how things stand between you two.” Laurel wrapped her arm around Brenna’s shoulder. “He’s a good man who cares about you. But if you push too hard, you’ll lose him.”

  Kane stood on the dock, watching the steam rise up off the lake as the evening drew near and the air chilled. Brenna was right - he was asking her to sell herself. Isn’t that exactly what he meant when he’d said she’d need to make a political match? His hope was to help all of Soule, but did that make it any better?

  In the final few days before they left, Kane treated Brenna with courtesy and respect, but he was very distant. Despite their very close living arrangements, Brenna began to feel as though Kane wasn’t there at all. He was up before she woke in the morning and never came up to the loft until she was asleep. He did keep her busy with knife practice and riding, but more often than not he would simply give her some drills she could do on her own, or arrange to have Laurel ride with her. When she asked if he would spar with her, he’d decline politely, saying he had far too much to do to get them all ready to travel. As their departure day finally closed in, Brenna was too discouraged to even try any more.

  “I don’t know, Mistress Utley,” she said. “It’s like I don’t even exist for him anymore except as some task he has to do. He barely even speaks to me anymore.” It was the day before they were to leave and Brenna had gone to Mistress Utley’s one last time, to thank her and say goodbye. The old witch had invariably gotten Brenna to open up to her.

  Mistress Utley smiled and patted her arm. “I wouldn’t worry too much about your young man just yet, like as not he’ll work things out himself. Although you might want to talk to him.”

  Brenna met the old woman’s gaze. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  “Sometimes what we say doesn’t matter as much as the attempt,” she said. “One of you needs to start.”

  “I guess,” Brenna said. “I really hate that we’re not talking.”

  “There you go then,” Mistress Utley said. “Tell him that. It won’t hurt, and it may help. Sometimes it’s amazing what can happen when you decide not to be stubborn.”

  “Kane,” Brenna caught up with him as he strode towards the lake. They’d just finished eating and he’d bolted out the door before she could stop him. He didn’t stop walking, but he did slow down a little.

  “I just wanted to tell you that I hate it when we don’t talk.” She kept her eyes down, not daring to look over at him. “Let me know what I can do to make things better between us.” There, she’d said it. She spun and ran back towards the house.

  Kane stopped, eyes closed tight as heard her run back up the path. He opened his eyes and turned but she’d already disappeared in the dusk. Slowly, he continued on his way to lake and sat on the low stone wall beside the dock. He could hear the shouts and splashes of children as they braved the hotspring-fed waters despite the chill in the air.

  He didn’t have anything to do. The supplies were all packed and ready to go, lined up beside the door in Laurel’s house. He didn’t have any goodbyes to make except for farmer Poskitt and he’d do that when he picked up the horses in the morning. He’d spent all his time here living Brenna’s life, not his own, which is what he’d expected, embraced even, as his legacy from the Brotherhood. But he hadn’t expected to feel so angry and betrayed when she’d discussed courting another man. His head knew what his place was, why couldn’t his heart just accept that?

  Sighing, he scuffed a boot against the stone. He needed to get his feelings under control but he kept seeing her face when she’d told him she’d made her first choice clear. More than anything, her telling him that he was her first choice haunted him. She was his only choice, and would be for the rest of his life, he knew that deep in his heart. But the needs of Soule outweighed his own personal interests. Or Brenna’s. He had to make her see that.

  five

  The morning was easy riding with the road sloping gently away from Cloud Lake. At noon they stopped beside some ruins that Laurel said were from long before Wolde, and they clambered over some large stone blocks to inspect an early carving of Ush, belly fat, holding an ear of corn in one hand and what looked like eggs in another. The stone it was carved onto was gray with lichen and the once sharp edges were worn down by time.

  Kane had been different today, more like he used to be, but Brenna was aware of an undercurrent between them that had never been there before. He stood up and she glanced at him, before ducking her head. She felt like she knew where he was at all times, even when she couldn’t see him.

  “This looks like as good a place to eat as any,” Laurel said as she wandered amongst the stone blocks. “Did you know that witches still come here on the solstice?”

  Brenna nodded. Mistress Utley had told her that when she’d said she was traveling south. “Mistress Utley said that when she was a girl the biggest Spring Festival was held here. Later it moved to Smithin because that’s where all the important people live.”

  Laurel laughed. “Maybe all the people who think they’re important live there. I think we need to keep powerful witches near the old places of power.”

  “That’s what Mistress Utley said as well.” Brenna nodded.

  Shortly after leaving the ruins they reached the plains of Aruntun. The rich farmland stretched south to the sea and they were able to pick up their pace but it still wasn’t fast enough for Brenna. Fears for her gra
ndmother drove her and Brenna was always the last one to agree to stop for the night, often urging them to stay on the road until it was well after dark. Laurel had her own reasons for wanting to travel quickly and didn’t question Brenna’s urgency.

  Finding lodgings was easy - two Seers were guests prized by the Aruntians they met. Laurel was well known as the daughter of the Duchess and Brenna liked her easy way with the people of her land. It was a sharp contrast to the way Thorold dealt with common-born folk. Laurel never ceased to be kind and considerate to all they crossed paths with and she was gracious and grateful to those who gifted them with lodging and food. And she never let them leave without trading something of value, like as not using her Seer’s gift to find lost lambs and give advice on the best time for planting. Brenna was able to use her healing skills to help a farmer with a septic cut, or a child with a high fever, but try as she might, could not seem to See these small events.

  “Don’t fret about it Brenna,” Laurel said when she’d finally confided her worries. “You’re early into your gifts. I’ve been learning how to use mine for longer than you’ve been alive. Besides, didn’t Mistress Utley tell you that your gifts would be related to abilities you already have?”

  “Yes,” Brenna replied.

  “Please don’t misunderstand me,” Laurel continued. “I like you, but you’re not of much of a farmer, are you?”

  “Are you?”

  “I’ve been mucking about in gardens since I was able to walk,” Laurel said with a smile. “So yes, I rather think that I have a bit of farmer in me. Your skills lie elsewhere.”

  Brenna thought about her ability to become invisible and nodded. Her skills did lie elsewhere.

  Brenna and Kane settled into an uneasy routine. As often as they could they slipped away after the evening meal to find a quiet place in a barn or walled garden. Once alone, either Kane would put her through her paces with her knife or Brenna would practice her spells. She quickly mastered the invisibility spell and soon both Runner and Blaze were calm whenever she cast the spell on them. But Kane was polite, too polite and when they weren’t sparring with weapons he kept his distance. Deliberately, Brenna thought. Through old steel she caught hints of his chaotic emotions - they had nothing to do with this controlled, aloof man he’d become when they were alone. Laurel’s knowing looks when Brenna returned from her meetings with Kane made things worse. Brenna had to smile and pretend that Laurel’s assumptions that she and Kane were becoming intimate were true - she couldn’t tell her what they were really doing.

  “According to Laurel we’ll be in Smithin in a few hours,” Brenna said to Kane. She’d pushed Blaze to catch Runner and now she and Kane walked side by side along a wide dirt road. “How long before we can get a ship for Comack?”

  “I don’t know,” Kane said. “I told you already that it depends on a few things.”

  “We have to meet the Brotherhood,” Brenna said. “I know but that can’t take very long can it? A day or two maybe?”

  “If they’re all in town, yes.”

  “But they will be, for the festival,” Brenna said.

  “Let’s hope so,” Kane replied. “Then we need a ship.”

  “We’ll take the one you sailed on before,” Brenna said. She didn’t understand why Kane was being so reluctant. He’d promised to help her find her grandmother.

  “If it’s in port,” Kane said. “And even if it is we may need to wait for the right weather.”

  “If it’s not in port we’ll take another ship,” Brenna said. “And I’ll make sure we have the right weather.”

  “All the way to Comack?”

  “If I have to,” Brenna said. “Kane, finding my grandmother is the most important thing for me right now. You know that.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I do.” Kane sighed.

  “Good,” Brenna replied. She pulled on Blaze’s reins to slow her and they fell behind Kane. Soon enough Laurel caught up with her.

  “Laurel,” Brenna said. “Can we spend some more time Seeing the weather?” Between Seeing what was coming and magically manipulating the weather they had Brenna would get that ship to Comack. She wouldn’t let the weather delay her.

  “I wish you and Kane would reconsider and come stay with my family,” Laurel said.

  Finally they were on the outskirts of Smithin. The road was more crowded and the air carried a distinctive salty tang, along with the unmistakable odors of the city. Brenna sniffed and wrinkled her nose. Did Kingsreach smell like this?

  “Thank you for the offer, Laurel,” Brenna said. “But we don’t want to intrude on your reunion with your family.” She nudged Blaze to the side of the road to let an empty cart pass going the other way. “We’ll come for dinner tomorrow, if you still want us to.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Good. I’m looking forward to meeting your family.” Brenna smiled. “Especially the man who let his woman to spend the winter snowed in with a dangerous outsider while he looked after the children.”

  “Who says he let me to do anything?” Laurel said. “And anyway, we never really thought you were dangerous.”

  “Untrained, I was,” Brenna said. “Even though the last thing I want is to be a threat to you or Aruntun , you were right to watch me. I had no control over my powers. With what you and Mistress Utley have taught me now I have control and I’m very grateful.”

  They caught up to Kane at the town gates, where being in the presence of Laurel made entrance to the city proper easy. Brenna sighed contentedly as she took in the bustle of the streets as townsfolk hurried home for dinner and merchants dragged their wares inside their shops for the night. She’d missed the constant activity and steady undercurrent of city noises.

  A few streets beyond the gates Kane pointed at an inn. Brenna waved goodbye to Laurel, who rode off quickly, no doubt anxious to get home to her family. With a sigh, Brenna turned to look at the inn.

  The first story was made of the same reddish stone she noticed on other buildings in the city. The second floor, which overhung the street by about two feet, had thick wooden beams filled with dried mud the same red as the stone. The thatched roof rustled in the cool wind that made its way this far past the gates. The sign showed a large ship anchor, painted bright red with the name Red Anchor in black lettering. The door underneath the sign was thick oak banded with dull metal. When it opened and a man in slim fitting shirt and breeches staggered out, Brenna caught a glimpse of a dark interior and heard the murmur of many voices.

  Kane dismounted. “It’s not much, but we can trust it.”

  “Brothers?” she asked softly after a quick check for old steel showed her a few weapons close by. At his nod she dismounted and followed him as he led the way down a narrow alley. A small wooden gate in the wall was labeled with the same red anchor symbol and Kane pulled a cord that hung down over the wall. A bell rang sharply and Brenna heard mutters and then the sound of a bolt being drawn. The gate cracked open and a grizzled face looked out.

  “What ye want?” The gray eyes looked them over and then widened when he saw Brenna. “Seer, beggin’ yer pardon. Always got room fer a Seer.” The gate swung wide and Kane walked Runner through. Brenna followed but the man was there, his dirty hands scrabbling to take Blaze’s reins from her.

  “No, please, I’d prefer to get her settled myself,” she said.

  “Oh no, it ain’t seemly, Mistress Seer. Let old Sneath look after her.” The man grinned, revealing a mouthful of broken, blackened teeth. Brenna leaned away from the sour stench of rot.

  “No thanks,” Brenna said. “I have her. Once she’s in a stall you can take over.”

  Sneath grumbled something she couldn’t hear but he did drop Blaze’s reins and scurry back to shut the gate. Brenna followed Kane into a surprisingly clean and well-kept stable, considering the state of Sneath. The old man came running and quickly opened two stalls. Once she’d unloaded her packs and unsaddled Blaze, the horse walked into the stall. Sneath was already splash
ing fresh water into the trough that ran along the front of the stalls.

  Packs in hand, Brenna followed Kane through a smaller side door and into a clean inn yard. Her stomach rumbled as the smell of baking bread wafted her way from a back window and when they passed a neat garden, she saw early onions and basil and smelled the pungent scent of rosemary.

  “This place is deceiving from the front,” she said as they approached a door. Before Kane could comment, the door snapped open and a boy of about ten ran out.

  “Let me help with them bags,” he said as he skidded to a stop. He wrenched one pack from Brenna’s hand but she held onto the other tightly. It held the coronet and mortar and pestle and she wasn’t about to trust them to anyone else. It took the lad a few seconds to figure out he wasn’t going to get that pack, and Brenna grinned when he finally stopped struggling.

  “Blessed Anu,” he said when he finally glanced up. Wide blue eyes looked up at her from underneath the reddest hair she’d ever seen. His face was covered with freckles, and Brenna thought she’d never seen a boy look more like trouble, and that included Eryl’s lads.

  “Sorry Mistress Seer. I’ll jest take them other bags.” The boy grabbed both of Kane’s bags and dragged the whole pile up the two stairs and into the inn.

  Kane laughed and she looked at him.

  “That’s Kevan. He’s a bit of a whirlwind, but his heart is good.”

  “So’s mine,” she replied. “That never meant I wouldn’t take your last penny if you were foolish enough to leave it within my reach.”

  “Which was?”

  “Pretty much anywhere.” Brenna laughed as they entered the inn.

  “Kane Rowse, well met.” A large dark-haired man approached them, wiping his hands on a black leather apron. He held out one hand to Kane.

  “Warrick, good to see you again,” Kane said.