Chapter 9 Brynn
Brynn
She had been too late.
Brynn had tried to warn Gistrid and her handmaidens. She had tried to do the right thing, but Gistrid must have been poisoned again right after Brynn left. Had Tullia decided she wanted Gistrid dead after all?
Gistrid might have been a self-serving, spoiled brat for all Brynn knew. It might have been true that she had wanted to use Ovrek. Brynn still didn’t think she deserved to die.
Cenric left Brynn with the two guards standing outside. She heard him growling to them in Valdari, probably threats. But she could protect herself from them. Neither wore armor and their tunics were made of wool. It would be easy for her to use spells to fell both men.
Brynn could fight her way out of this, but then what? Down the beach, their ship had been blocked off by two others. Daven and the rest of Cenric’s thanes had been “invited” to sup at the feast being held for the jarls’ men. It seemed they were all being watched.
Even if they could escape, Ovrek was about to invade Hylden. If he thought she had murdered his concubine, he would try to kill her. According to Cenric, they needed to give their allegiance to Ovrek to save Ombra, to save their own lives.
Brynn considered killing Ovrek, but quickly dismissed the idea.
Killing Ovrek would only create a power imbalance in Valdar.
It might delay the invasion as men squabbled to carve up his kingdom.
She doubted Tolvir had the skill or maturity to keep the kingdom in a unified whole.
As for Tullia, she was too unpredictable, too unknown.
Brynn had no idea if she had the support to seize control of Valdar and even if she did, she might turn out to be worse than Ovrek.
Even in Hylden, where rules for succession had been in place for generations, the death of a king was a bloody affair.
Perhaps that discord would be isolated to Valdar, but it might not.
For all Brynn knew, it might result in more raids and invasions into Ombra as men starving in the wake of the unrest tried to feed themselves and their families.
At the same time, another king might take Ovrek’s place, one just as set on conquering Hylden but without the fondness for Cenric this one had. Brynn did not know Valdari politics well enough to know if there might be another jarl powerful enough to do that.
At the very least, Tullia had known who poisoned Gistrid the first time, but had she been responsible for Gistrid’s ultimate death? Could someone else have done that?
Unsurprisingly, Tullia’s thrall had disappeared. That did not mean that Tullia was guilty, though.
Brynn stared into the glow of the hot coals in the small pit that served as a brazier, Guin’s head resting in her lap, snoring peacefully.
Assuming someone other than Tullia had poisoned Gistrid, who could have done it?
Gistrid had been poisoned when Istra was filled with people. More people than ever, it seemed. From what Ovrek said, jarls and all their attendants as well as farmers, fishermen, and everyone in between would be here from across the country.
It could be anyone. Anyone.
From what Brynn knew, Ovrek had been king for barely a decade. That was not nearly long enough for past grudges and wounds to be forgotten.
But it also didn’t make sense. If someone wanted to hurt Ovrek, why not target his son? He only had one and from what Brynn had seen, the boy pranced about Istra unguarded. He would have been an easy mark.
Ovrek also made himself accessible to his men. He might observe the tradition of making them leave their weapons outside his hall, but he walked freely through Istra where anyone could attack him.
Even if someone had wanted one of Ovrek’s lovers dead, why not Sifma?
She was the one he had given the title of queen, the one who ran his household, and the mother of his two children.
From what Brynn had seen, Sifma would be a far greater loss to Ovrek’s rule.
At the same time, it seemed unlikely that Gistrid would have been a threat to Sifma.
Ovrek had alluded to other concubines. Could it have been one of them? One of their families?
Brynn blew a long breath out of her nose. She couldn’t even begin piecing this together.
She sensed ka headed toward her tent from outside, about the size and shape of a person.
She shifted, thinking it might be Cenric, but it had only been a couple hours and there was no sign of Snapper.
She doubted it was him just yet and Esa shouldn’t be alone, Kalen should be with her.
The two of them had gone to fetch supper for themselves and Brynn. So who?
Voices drifted through the canvas as the newcomer spoke to the guards outside. Words were exchanged for a few moments and then the tent flap opened.
Vana stepped inside, her shawl in place. “How are you?” she asked gently, sounding friendly.
“As well as I can be.” Brynn offered a wan smile.
Guin wagged her tail at Vana’s entrance, but she stayed lying in Brynn’s lap.
“How is Cenric?”
“Furious.” Vana took up a place before the hot coals beside Brynn, partially facing her. “But he’s trying to hide it.”
Brynn should have known. She loved Cenric’s straightforwardness. He saw no point in lying. That made him bad at politics, but good at being trustworthy. “Did Ovrek send you?” Brynn watched the puppy as Guin stretched, adjusting her rump and settling back down.
Vana hesitated.
“It’s alright.” Brynn pushed aside her feelings of betrayal and frustration. She locked them deep down in her chest, to be taken out when she had the time and the space for them. “Ask your questions.”
Vana grimaced. She probably didn’t like this situation any more than Brynn did, whether she thought Brynn was guilty or not. “What happened?”
“Shall I start with this morning when I first met Gistrid?” It was the only time Brynn would ever meet Gistrid, she realized. That girl’s body was even now growing cold.
“Please do.” Vana adjusted her shawl.
Brynn told Vana everything she remembered, from the time they had been summoned, to the time they had found the girl’s body. She left out the part where Tullia had confessed knowing, though she mentioned walking with the woman.
“We found that thrall,” Vana said. “She denies you ever saying that Gistrid had been poisoned.”
Brynn quashed her frustration at that. Had Tullia told Lena to lie?
Vana continued. “Is it possible that your healing somehow made her worse?”
“No,” Brynn answered quickly. “No. Gistrid’s illness was caused by poison. The only way it would have worsened was if she was poisoned again.” It was possible for infections to be made worse by giving a person ka, but poisons were different.
Vana deflated. Maybe she had been hoping that this could be explained away as an accident—an honest mistake on Brynn’s part.
“Magic does not kill slowly. It…” Brynn took a breath to calm herself. “Spells are not living things. They require active participation of the weaver.”
Vana nodded, but that meant nothing. This was Brynn’s word against everything else. Against everyone else.
Brynn blew out a frustrated breath. “What will happen if Ovrek thinks I did it?”
Vana hesitated. “I am not sure. He may demand a blood price, or he may want to avenge her.”
Brynn had assumed as much. “I see.” Was this a scheme to put the blame on Brynn? But why? “What will happen to Cenric?”
“If he complies, nothing,” Vana said.
Brynn petted Guin’s head, thinking. It would be best for Cenric to stand by and do nothing, but he wouldn’t. From the way he had drawn his sword to defend her, even in front of Ovrek, he would never let them hurt her while he was alive.
That thought filled her with a sick sense of dread, but she couldn’t quite wish it was otherwise. No one had been willing to die for her in a long time.
“It looks like you did it, Brynn.” Vana’s words came out slowly, as if she didn’t want to speak them. “Intentionally or not.”
Brynn ground her teeth in frustration. She should have known better than to try to help Gistrid. It was all being used against her now, turning her into the proxy for murder.
Brynn had killed dozens, maybe even hundreds of people on the battlefield, but she had never been accused of murder before.
“Gistrid’s handmaidens said she had been sick for several days,” Brynn protested. “Stomach pains and tiredness.”
“She was with child.” Vana blinked. “That is hardly suspicious.”
Brynn didn’t expect Vana to be convinced, not really, but thinking out loud was useful. “She was almost dead.”
“We have only your word for that,” Vana pointed out. “Sifma and the handmaidens said she was getting better.”
They were lying. Either they were also trying to pile the blame on Brynn or they feared Ovrek’s wrath if he learned just how much they had hidden from him. Maybe both.
Brynn fought to think past her hurt and sense of injustice. “I healed her, and then it looks like she was given a much larger dose.” Brynn considered that. “I don’t think killing her was the goal, just the baby.”
“Why would anyone kill a baby?” Vana protested.
Brynn grimaced. Her own son had been a baby, murdered a year ago. The pain of that loss lingered, but though the boulder of her grief still took up space in her heart, it no longer crushed her beneath its weight.
“The child might not have survived birth, or its first year.” Vana shook her head. “It could have been a girl for all we know.”
Brynn studied the sleeping puppy in her lap. Vana was right. It made no sense. Brynn was still missing something.
Tullia might well have wanted to make Gistrid miscarry out of spite, but it wouldn’t explain changing her mind to want the girl dead. Tullia did not seem the sort to change her mind easily.
Vana exhaled a long breath.
“Why do you think I did it?”
“I did not say that.”
“But you do.” Brynn watched the glow of the hot coals falter. Esa would need to stir them when she returned. “Don’t you?” She tried not to sound defensive, tried to quash all sense of betrayal deep, deep down.