do. He would too.
“Well, she heard us out, for one.” The old man laughed. “Though for a bit there I didn’t think she would. Don’t be so hard on yerself, lad. We did what we went to do. We warned her about the danger she’s in, we let her know who was behind it, and we offered her more help. Just ‘cause she don’t want our help today don’t mean she won’t want it tomorrow. Besides, you don’t know her like I do. Brenna’s smart as they come. She’s real good at staying out of trouble.”
“I hope you’re right,” Kane said. With the kind of trouble that was following her she could end up dead.
Brenna peered out the window and watched Kane stride off down the street. Pater was back at his cart and when he looked up at her window, she let the curtain drop back into place. Slowly she paced her small room. She was angry - angry with Kane and Pater for trying to get her to give up her whole life and fall in with the Brotherhood - angry at the situation she found herself in - but most of all she was angry that Kane’s offer of safety tempted her.
Last night, when she was followed from the library, she’d been afraid. Now that Kane had confirmed that the church was looking for her, she was even more afraid. She shuddered. She knew what the church of the One-God did with those they had grievances against.
Last summer she’d seen the body of a woman who had disappeared after the church had come to question her. Brenna had been on a roof across from the church waiting for the occupants of a nearby house to settle for the night when the church doors had opened. Two men had been carrying something between them and a strong gust of wind had lifted the cloth cover. In the light from the street lamps Brenna had seen an arm, limp and pale and streaked with blood, or so she’d first thought. But as one of the men fought to pull the cloth back over the arm she’d realized in horror what she was actually looking at. It wasn’t a streak of blood - it was raw flesh where a strip of skin had been peeled away. When the men had deposited their burden in the bed of a waiting cart, a third man had come from the church, a bundle of cloth in his arms.
“Burn this too,” she’d heard him say as he shoved the bundle into the cart. And at the top of the bundle was a scrap of material with a blue and yellow checked pattern. A perfect match for the scarf the missing woman was last seen wearing.
Brenna paced her room. She’d just be extra careful. She couldn’t let her fear get the better of her. She stopped at her work table. She needed a distraction, needed to do something. She selected some herbs and quickly measured them into her mortar. She ground them into a powder then dug her hand into a jar and scooped out some beeswax. The familiar actions of mixing the salve for Mistress Dudding’s arthritis calmed her, and after a few moments Brenna felt her breathing slow and her shoulders relax. She would stay out of sight, even if it meant locking herself in her rooms for a few weeks. The church would not find her so there was no reason to accept Kane’s offer of protection. Besides she didn’t believe she was the prophesied one. How could she be? She was a healer and a common thief. And that suited her just fine.
six
Duke Thorold glared at the lad who had brought the message. Fridrick, his most learned scholar, had sent him with word that he’d not made any progress in his search to understand the ancient weapons Thorold had been collecting.
The youngster was literally shaking, head down and afraid to look up at him.
“Boy,” Thorold said. “Tell Master Fridrick that I will see him at once. And tell him I will accept no excuse for delay.” When the boy hesitated Thorold bellowed. “Go!” He watched in satisfaction as the boy hastily backed away, then turned and ran from the room. Fridrick should know better than to send a servant with his
“Well, she heard us out, for one.” The old man laughed. “Though for a bit there I didn’t think she would. Don’t be so hard on yerself, lad. We did what we went to do. We warned her about the danger she’s in, we let her know who was behind it, and we offered her more help. Just ‘cause she don’t want our help today don’t mean she won’t want it tomorrow. Besides, you don’t know her like I do. Brenna’s smart as they come. She’s real good at staying out of trouble.”
“I hope you’re right,” Kane said. With the kind of trouble that was following her she could end up dead.
Brenna peered out the window and watched Kane stride off down the street. Pater was back at his cart and when he looked up at her window, she let the curtain drop back into place. Slowly she paced her small room. She was angry - angry with Kane and Pater for trying to get her to give up her whole life and fall in with the Brotherhood - angry at the situation she found herself in - but most of all she was angry that Kane’s offer of safety tempted her.
Last night, when she was followed from the library, she’d been afraid. Now that Kane had confirmed that the church was looking for her, she was even more afraid. She shuddered. She knew what the church of the One-God did with those they had grievances against.
Last summer she’d seen the body of a woman who had disappeared after the church had come to question her. Brenna had been on a roof across from the church waiting for the occupants of a nearby house to settle for the night when the church doors had opened. Two men had been carrying something between them and a strong gust of wind had lifted the cloth cover. In the light from the street lamps Brenna had seen an arm, limp and pale and streaked with blood, or so she’d first thought. But as one of the men fought to pull the cloth back over the arm she’d realized in horror what she was actually looking at. It wasn’t a streak of blood - it was raw flesh where a strip of skin had been peeled away. When the men had deposited their burden in the bed of a waiting cart, a third man had come from the church, a bundle of cloth in his arms.
“Burn this too,” she’d heard him say as he shoved the bundle into the cart. And at the top of the bundle was a scrap of material with a blue and yellow checked pattern. A perfect match for the scarf the missing woman was last seen wearing.
Brenna paced her room. She’d just be extra careful. She couldn’t let her fear get the better of her. She stopped at her work table. She needed a distraction, needed to do something. She selected some herbs and quickly measured them into her mortar. She ground them into a powder then dug her hand into a jar and scooped out some beeswax. The familiar actions of mixing the salve for Mistress Dudding’s arthritis calmed her, and after a few moments Brenna felt her breathing slow and her shoulders relax. She would stay out of sight, even if it meant locking herself in her rooms for a few weeks. The church would not find her so there was no reason to accept Kane’s offer of protection. Besides she didn’t believe she was the prophesied one. How could she be? She was a healer and a common thief. And that suited her just fine.
six
Duke Thorold glared at the lad who had brought the message. Fridrick, his most learned scholar, had sent him with word that he’d not made any progress in his search to understand the ancient weapons Thorold had been collecting.
The youngster was literally shaking, head down and afraid to look up at him.
“Boy,” Thorold said. “Tell Master Fridrick that I will see him at once. And tell him I will accept no excuse for delay.” When the boy hesitated Thorold bellowed. “Go!” He watched in satisfaction as the boy hastily backed away, then turned and ran from the room. Fridrick should know better than to send a servant with his
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