Chapter 11 Brynn
Brynn
Brynn found a shelter in a leaning tree and hunkered down for the night. She shivered, not daring to make a fire. Even in summer, the nights were cold.
Guin curled against her, making a comfortable nest under Brynn’s arms. At least Brynn had been wearing her shawl when Tolvir had attacked. Perhaps she should have grabbed her cloak, but she’d had other things on her mind.
The forest chirped and popped around her. Brynn stared into the darkness, her heart racing.
She reached out with ka, trying to sense every living thing within any reasonable distance. There were shapes she took for squirrels and perhaps a few deer.
There could be wolves in this forest for all she knew. Though she doubted they would be this close to Istra.
Brynn sensed nothing that might be a farm or settlement, so that was a good sign. She would rather not deal with the Valdari locals just now.
Guin slept soundly in her lap. The puppy probably thought they were out for an adventure.
Brynn drew in ka, but while that worked to stave off frostbite, it could do nothing for this seeping, clawing cold.
She had nothing to hand that could safely hold heat without burning her.
Brynn wrapped her shawl tighter around herself as she shivered.
She needed to rest to have the strength come daylight, but she was too cold and uneasy to fall asleep.
During the war, she had sometimes slept on tree roots and in the shelter of wagon wheels, but Aelfwynn had always been there to watch over her. Brynn had been able to sleep knowing her elder sister was protecting her.
Now Brynn was alone. Cenric was back in Istra, though he had probably learned of what happened by now. Overhead, the gibbous moon shone through the branches of the trees, Eponine’s face watching from afar.
Brynn exhaled prayers through her chattering teeth with nothing better to do.
“Mother Eponine, watch over Cenric. Keep him from being a fool.” Brynn squeezed her eyes shut, not sure how else to say it.
“I love him and if he loves me like he says he does…” Brynn hesitated.
Cenric might truly love her, but he was an alderman, and aldermen had to do what they had to do for the sake of their shires.
Loving a powerful man was to accept that his power would always come first—that was what Brynn’s mother had said about her father.
Brynn sat leaning against the damp earth, shivering, and she wondered if Cenric might realize he was better off without her.
They had been married less than a year. She had brought no lands that he would lose by putting her aside. She hadn’t given him children yet. It would be easy to put her aside. So easy.
Guin stirred in Brynn’s lap, shifting as she settled down again.
If anyone hurts you, I kill them.
The words of an infatuated boy or a man in love?
Speaking of infatuated boys…Tolvir.
He’d been in love with Gistrid. Even though she had been with his father, Tolvir still cared about her.
Had Gistrid’s child been Tolvir’s?
Somehow, Brynn didn’t think so. Nothing was ever private, not really.
Brynn had learned that the hard way when tales had started flying that she was still untouched four years into her first marriage.
Rumors that he was impotent had been what finally pushed Paega into bedding Brynn, but as soon as she was pregnant and his virility was proven, he never touched her again.
If Tolvir had been bedding his father’s concubine, all of Gistrid’s servants would have needed to keep the secret. Not only that, but Brynn could not see Tolvir outright defying his father like that. If he had all the thrall girls as Tullia had implied, why risk death?
Back in Hylden, if a king was cuckholded, he could be declared unfit to rule. After all, if he could not defend his own women, what kind of king could he be?
Raping the wives and concubines of defeated foes was still practiced in parts of Hylden. Brynn assumed the Valdari had something similar. The tradition went back to the days of the wild chieftains when androcide against enemy tribes had been the norm.
But what if someone thought Tolvir’s affection for his father’s concubine had gone beyond unrequited love? It didn’t necessarily have to be true, but what if someone assumed?
Someone close enough to Tolvir and Gistrid to want to protect them and prevent Ovrek from finding out.
Sifma seemed the most likely person if Tullia told the truth, but if Brynn was right and pennyroyal had been used, the poisoner had likely intended to induce a miscarriage, not Gistrid’s death.
That Gistrid had been overdosed and nearly killed the first time implied some inexperienced with use of herbs and their remedies.
My mother could have used the help, I think.
Brynn’s stomach clenched to recall Tullia’s words about buying a thrall with better skills in herbalism. She must have known from the start. Sifma must confide in her daughter or Tullia had excellent spies. Both were equally possible.
Guin snuffled in her arms, but it was a long time before Brynn fell asleep.