Thief (Brotherhood of the Throne Book 1) (4 page)

“Please, do you know the rest?” He was reeling but forced himself to be calm.

“The rest?” The two differently coloured eyes looked past him to Andel and then settled back on Kane’s face with a puzzled expression. “You mean this? Brothers by the throne look to me to save the line?”

Kane closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping his breathing even and quieting his racing pulse. She had rushed the words, there was no sense she’d understood the meaning at all, but the words … they were all there. When he felt under control he opened his eyes and looked at her face - a plain face that, except for one green eye and one brown, he wouldn’t notice in a crowd. Yet this woman, this ordinary, unremarkable woman, had just changed the whole course of his life. 

Kane turned to Andel. “You know what this means?”

“Aye, it means it’s finally come, what we been waiting for all these years.” Andel turned a lopsided grin towards the prisoner. “I’ll be truthful lass, I coulda done without this on my watch.”

“As could I,” Kane agreed. “Even though as a boy I wanted this more than anything.” Kane turned back to the thief. From the puzzled look on her face he was sure she had no idea of the importance of the phrase she’d just uttered. Interesting that she had no idea.

“I should introduce myself. I’m Kane Rowse, Captain of the Kingsguard, and you are?” Kane stretched his hand out in formal greeting, not sure she would actually respond. She searched his eyes at length before replying.

“Brenna, I’m called. If you must have a last name, make it Lightfingers.” She crossed her arms and hugged them to her chest.

Kane nodded and his hand dropped to his side. It would have to be enough for now, though there was certain to be some discussion of her real name and background. Speaking the Call and her reaction to old steel were enough for him, although he knew that after all these years, all these generations, some would need more.

“Brenna,” he spoke to her softly, “you are now under the protection of the Brotherhood. I’m not sure this will mean anything to you so I ask that you have some faith and trust in us. Andel, I’ll have Greig and Connell take over for you later. I imagine you’ll need to swear witness at the meet. I’ll get word to you of the details once I’ve spoken to my uncle. I’ll have Dasid coordinate the guards in here. We’ll need two at all times. Ask Jervis to come let me out.” Kane sent an apologetic glance Brenna’s way. “Unfortunately we’ll need to keep you in here overnight, at the very least. Nor can we offer you more than the usual comforts, I’m afraid. We don’t want to rouse any suspicions.”

Kane glanced at the prisoner once more before Jervis led him from the outer room. He had often, as had all youngsters first brought into the Brotherhood, dreamed that he would be the first to hear the Call. He had never once conceived of anything as unlikely as this. He must report to his uncle at once.

three

Brenna eyed the captain – Kane Rowse, he’d said his name was – as he left the jail. Brothers! What was going on? The sword and the knife from last night- why had they both glowed when she held them? Kane Rowse had clearly had some idea of what he was looking for when he’d put her hand on his sword, but he’d been surprised by the intensity of the light. And she’d felt that tingle, that warmth, spread through her body, and after she’d felt somehow connected to him through his sword.

She frowned and shook her head in disgust. The Captain of the Kingsguard was the last person a thief wanted to come to the attention of. She didn’t like it. And he’d been able to see her eyes! No one had ever seen through her mother’s prayer before.

Brenna eyed the single guard as she paced the small cell. Kane Rowse had said she was under the protection of the Brotherhood, which must be the “Brothers” in her saying. But what did the old saying mean? Who’s throne? What line was to be saved? Although her mother had insisted she learn the phrase, she’d claimed no understanding. Wynne Trewen had been taught it by
her
mother, who had also claimed ignorance.

She sighed and sat down on the straw, pulled the blanket over her shoulders and huddled under it, worried. Too many strange things had happened in the last day. The knife and sword lighting up – and then there were her eyes. She quickly muttered her prayer of concealment.  If folk could see her witch eyes she’d have a hard time going back to her old life.

At least from Kane’s comments it sounded like this Brotherhood was going to get her released. As long as they didn’t try to buy her bond and indenture her, she’d let them. She’d do anything to keep from being indentured - her mother had died buying her freedom and she would never betray her sacrifice by submitting to another’s will … ever. 

The rest of the afternoon Brenna puzzled over the knife, sword and verses but she didn’t get any closer to understanding what it all meant. Every so often she’d look up and catch the guard watching her with a look of awe, which set her to scowling. She could not afford to be some sort of pet of the Kingsguard.

She leaned back against the wall and once again said the prayer for her eyes. She’d been faithfully saying it every day for as long as she could remember. She didn’t know why it had failed now. Could it have something to do with his sword? But Kane Rowse had noted her eyes
before
she touched his sword. When she was caught last night no one had mentioned them so why could Kane Rowse see her eyes? If it was only him she could go back to her life in Thieves’ Quarter.

Duke Thorold leaned back. When the High Bishop settled into the chair across from him, his black silk robed whispered as it swept the stone floor. The two most powerful advisors to King Mattias often met here in Thorold’s study. It was a small, square room well furnished with heirlooms from his ducal ancestors as well as expensive gifts from nobles from across Soule, and Langemore to the north. Duke Thorold appreciated his comforts but he also felt it useful to display his wealth, connections, and family history.

“Lord High Bishop.” Thorold poured a glass of red wine and offered it across the table to Valden. “I am glad that you sought me out.”

The High Bishop nodded and took the glass. He took a small sip and a blood red drop of wine clung to the corner of his mouth.

“I fear I must remind you,” Thorold’s voice hardened, “of the need to be discreet. There was no reason to make so much of the thief in front of both the king and the captain.”

“But it’s an outrage.” High Bishop Valden’s voice rose in anger. “The church and her clerics do the One-God’s work and the law needs to recognize that. The fact that a commoner, a
thief
, is allowed to defile the holy work being done is intolerable. That girl should be handed over to me so I can ensure she gets the salvation she so obviously needs.”

Duke Thorold could imagine what kind of ‘salvation’ the thief could expect at the hands of the High Bishop. The man had no desire to spare the bodies of those whose souls he saved and Thorold knew of more than one subject who had been tortured to death while undergoing salvation. No matter, he found the High Bishop’s inclinations very useful. His knowledge of them ensured the High Bishop would remain his staunch ally.

“I agree that the church and nobility should be above commoners when it comes to the law,” Thorold said. “But we must tread carefully. I hate to admit it but Captain Rowse made some valid points. If the consequences are too severe criminals may decide that it’s better to leave no live witnesses. We must think carefully before we change the laws. In the meantime we have the knife.” Thorold paused and twisted his ducal ring on his finger. The High Bishop had handed the knife in question over to him as soon as the Kingsguard had released it and it was now safe and secure in the study of his Kingsreach estate.

“As for the thief,” Thorold continued. “There are other ways to ensure she does not go unpunished. Now, I want to review the statement from your priest. He claims he could see the girl as clear as day, which is quite an accomplishment for an elderly man with failing eyesight in a darkened room. How do you interpret this?”

“Of course there can only be one reason.” The High Bishop leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied look on his face. “It was truly a gift from the One-God for the good priest to be able to see clearly in his time of need.”

“Yes, of course.” Thorold kept the contempt he felt from his voice and his face. That was one the many things that he despised about the High Bishop. His hold on his church was admirable, but the man’s faith in the existence of both heavenly and magical powers was at times far too literal.

Oh, there certainly was magic, but it was not as widespread as people thought, at least outside of Aruntun. Thorold had spent a good part of his life investigating witches and he’d only ever come across one. Even then she hadn’t used her powers for the sixteen years that she’d been in his household and even his bed. But in the end she’d used it to help her brat, his bastard daughter, escape her fate. He’d killed her before she could do him any serious harm, thank the One-God. Perhaps
that
had been divine intervention.

If Thorold ever found the girl he’d kill her too, as he should have when he’d had the chance. It was a pity he’d not known about the magic earlier though, when the girl was younger. It would have been easy to make a small girl, his bastard daughter, grateful to him for being generous and kind to her and her mother. He could think of dozens of uses for a pet witch - but it was too late now.

“While I do understand your request for caution,” High Bishop Valden said. “I still feel we should …”

“Thank you High Bishop,” Thorold cut him off with a wave. “I do know your position. You’ve been quite clear on that, but you’ll have to excuse me. I must attend to some other duties and no doubt you have your own affairs to conduct.”

The High Bishop nodded. Then he picked up his wine glass and drained it.

Thorold smiled when the High Bishop shut the door as he left. He was well pleased with how he was managing the king’s advisors. High Bishop Valden was well in hand. Duchess Avery of Aruntun, who rarely came to Kingsreach, seemed content with the reports he sent her way. Young Duke Ewart of Fallad was acclimating himself to his new roles of duke and husband and Thorold doubted Ewart would be in Kingsreach before the fall.

That left Kane Rowse. The captain was proving to be more trouble than Thorold had expected. He had hoped that when Feiren Rowse stepped down as captain he’d be able to suggest someone more to his liking, but King Mattias had not listened to reason. There had been a Rowse as Captain of the Kingsguard for generations and Mattias would not be swayed from his choice. The only good thing was that, like his uncle, Kane was careful to limit his influence to issues that concerned the guard and the protection of the king and country. The Duke of Comack smiled to himself. The king’s health was failing more rapidly and when he finally succumbed to his illness there would be a new Captain of the Kingsguard.

Kane moved to his place near the front of the hall, looked across at his Uncle Feiren and nodded. He’d just let the last of the expected Brothers in and had made sure all exits were sealed and guarded.

The hall was in fact a cavern. It sat directly beneath the Rowse property and had been used as the meeting place for the Brotherhood of the Throne for centuries. Long ago, fast-flowing river waters had scoured out the large cave and the various tunnels that fed into it. Water had smoothed and rounded the rock walls and in the time since then, the floors had been polished by generations of Brotherhood feet. To this day some of the tunnels spilled out along the banks of the Seven River which, in early spring, flowed angrily through the center of Kingsreach, filled with runoff from the Seven Sisters mountain range.

Tonight, as head of the council, Feiren Rowse had gathered as many of the Brotherhood as possible on such short notice. Besides the council of five, who stood behind the high wooden table facing the room, there were some thirty Brothers gathered in clumps, voices low as they exchanged theories of why the meet had been called. Feiren and the council had already discussed the recent events and now they were going to explain it to their membership.

It was time. Kane stepped over and took a place beside a solemn and serious Andel. They’d be called upon to swear witness soon enough.

“My Brothers.” Feiren Rowse’s deep voice brought silence to the low murmurs that had been echoing around the large room. “The Brotherhood of the Throne has at last been Called. The prophesy is in motion!”

The room erupted in chaos - shouts and cheers echoing in the large cavern. Feiren slammed a palm onto the table and the crowd fell silent.

“If we can have silence we will hear from those who are here to swear witness.” Feiren gestured to Kane and Andel. “My own nephew, Captain Kane Rowse of the Kingsguard, whose lineage in the Brotherhood can be traced back to the reign of Wolde, and Guard Andel, also of the Kingsguard, whose family has belonged to the Brotherhood since the reign of Marto. Kane if you would give us a full report? I ask you all to hold your questions until the end.”

Kane stepped in front of the table and began his account, starting with the revelation that the High Bishop was collecting old steel. As he described the events he’d witnessed he looked out over the faces of those assembled, seeing the same mix of emotions he’d felt over the past few hours - surprise, fear, excitement, disbelief. He finished by recounting when the thief, Brenna, had spoken the Call, the old passage that had been handed down through the Brotherhood for generations, the words they had been waiting two millennia for. Kane stepped aside and Andel reported what he’d seen.

“And where is this thief at present?” The scorn in Marcus Brunger’s voice was a counterpoint to the awed whisperings that had started once Andel’s report was complete. “Still in jail I assume. Are we to believe that the Brotherhood of the Throne has been waiting in secret for two thousand years to save a common thief? Where is the proof of her royal bloodline?”

“My apologies, Guild Master Brunger.” Kane’s voice rang out in the cavern. “I fear I wasn’t clear enough in my testimony. She obviously is not a
common
thief or old steel would not react to her, nor would she know the Call. And what exactly would you expect of the one who raises the Call? Clearly someone of low birth or questionable background would be the most likely to need the Brotherhood. A rightful heir to the throne would have no need of us.”

“I agree.” Feiren Rowse once again took center stage. “Whether or not the proof witnessed here satisfies every one of us, I am convinced, and the council agrees with me, that the prophesy is in motion. The reason for the Brotherhood’s existence has come and we must respond.” The rest of the council, three men and one woman all nodded their agreement.

“I trust my nephew’s testimony completely,” Feiren said. “As well, I’ve been expecting that our time to act would be soon.” Feiren held his hand up once again to quiet the sounds of surprise that followed his statement. “We have on the throne a king who has been ill for a very long time. A king who is now heading into his middle years with no heir of his blood, and no inclination to marry and sire one. His advisors, with the exception of my nephew, seem to have no desire for the king to marry.”

“Why would they, when he’s named the Duke of Comack’s son his heir?” The shout came from the back of the room.

“Precisely,” continued Feiren. “Why would they? But Beldyn of Comack has but one of the four bloodlines. If he becomes king then Soule may be in peril. So the Call was not unexpected, at least by this council. We still need more information about this thief, Brenna Lightfingers. How is it she has the bloodlines of Wolde’s children running through her veins? We don’t know and truthfully, we may never know. But as the head of the council of the Brotherhood of the Throne I declare that the Call is true. We will send word to all chapters of the Brotherhood at once, as well as arrange for a full meet.”

Kane and Andel were quickly surrounded by Brothers eager for more information about the Caller. Marcus Brunger and a few of the older men hung back and Uncle Feiren headed towards them. Kane turned to answer a question from Laclan Galloway. Uncle Feiren would be able to convince any doubters, Kane thought, because it
was
the prophecy - all members of the Brotherhood must embrace their destiny. He looked at Andel’s grinning face; of all the youngsters who dreamed of being the one to receive the call, it was they who had heard it.