The Blight of Muirwood (26 page)

She gazed back at the Aldermaston, who nodded slowly.

“You noticed me speaking with the Earl of Forshee just now,” the Aldermaston said. “Martin brought ill tidings. Two Abbeys have fallen in the last fortnight. Burned by fire.”

Lia felt stricken. “Which?” she whispered.

“Dorset Abbey in Caspur’s domain. And Sempringfall Abbey to the east.”

“Sempringfall!” Lia gasped. “That was Ellowyn’s…”

“Indeed,” the Aldermaston said. “Garen Demont is marching northwards with an army to confront the Earl of Caspur’s forces. Which is why the Queen Dowager is combining her allies here. Martin will take Ellowyn and the others into the Bearden Muir tonight. That will give them a strong lead when Pareigis comes calling in the morning.”

Lia was confused, but she still clutched at Martin’s hands as she stared at the Aldermaston. “I want to go. You said I would be the one to take them.”

He shook his head. “I need you here, child.”

“But I have the orb,” she insisted. “Where is Martin going to take them?”

“He has not told me, nor will he. He is the only one who knows, and that is for the best right now. I can claim honestly to the Queen Dowager that I do not know where they are.”

“It is for the best, lass,” Martin said, freeing one of his hands and patting hers. “The Aldermaston needs you here.”

She bit her lip, feeling the sudden weight of hopelessness at the thought of Colvin leaving Muirwood without her. She had to see him before he went. How awkward it would be to part without bidding him goodbye. As much as it tortured her to see him ever since their moments together in the orchard, it would even more unendurable
not
to see him.

She looked at the Aldermaston again who slowly sunk into his chair, his face a mask of twisted pain. She had noticed it growing more severe. “You are sick,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes tightly, fighting against a hidden pain. “Not sick, Lia. I am dying. That is why I need you to stay.”

It was as if he had slapped her hard across the face. “But you cannot be,” she murmured.

“Oh, I am old enough to recognize the limits of my humanity. It may not happen for a while yet. But it will certainly happen. Maybe even tomorrow,” he added with a hushed voice.

Lia left Martin’s side and approached the Aldermaston. “What is it that ails you?”

“I am old, Lia,” he replied with a wincing smile. “I knew this time would come. My keenest desire is the protection of Muirwood, the records guarded in the cloister, and everyone who shelters here. While I am within the boundaries of the Abbey, the defenses will work. It takes great desire and concentration to maintain them. I need…your strength. Especially if the Queen Dowager storms the gates on the morrow. Your strength, coupled with mine, should be enough. If it is not, then I need you to lead the others to safety. Will you do that for me?”

Tears stung her eyes.

“Do not cry, Lia. I knew this day would come. It may not be tomorrow. But it is helpful to be prepared regardless. As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.”

The hot tears trickled down her cheeks. All her life, she had known the Aldermaston. She had not even known his real name until Pareigis spoke it that morning. In his gray cassock and robes, he seemed the embodiment of Muirwood itself – built from stone, permanent. His cropped beard and thinning hair were white still, but his brows had always been dark, his eyes even darker and full of strength and will. Even now as he struggled without complaining against the pain that caused him much sufferering, his eyes were fierce and determined, his mouth pressed firmly into a perpetual scowl. Much like Martin’s.

“What can I do?” Lia whispered.

He looked at her seriously. “You must pass the maston test. Tonight.”

Again it felt as if he had struck her. She looked at him in shock, almost unable to speak. “Why do you think I will be able to pass it when others more learned than me have not?”

His frown was pinched for a moment into a smile. “Because your thoughts are stronger. I know that you have long suspected your ancestry, at least on one side, is Pry-rian. I have been an Aldermaston for many years and have hosted many visitors from different kingdoms. I once met one of the rulers of Pry-Ree, back when a truce had been declared between our realms. This was before your birth. He was a king-maston and honored Muirwood with a visit during his journey to Comoros to treat with our lords. I asked him how long he had worn the chaen and he surprised me with his answer. It was a tradition of his Family, he said, to wear it by the age of fifteen. His own grandfather had passed the maston test at fourteen. His grandfather was a great leader and unified some of the warring factions within his realm and became the high king of Pry-Ree. He was exceptionally gifted in the Medium. His grandson, the one I had the pleasure of meeting, had passed the test himself at a young age.”

Lia’s heart buzzed with desire. “This king-maston that you met. Was he related to Ellowyn’s family?”

The Aldermaston nodded, his expression curiously vague. “Very much. He married Ellowyn’s mother while she was in exile in Dahomey because of a truce he had made with Sevrin Demont years before. A truce which he honored, even though Demont was murdered, his lands forfeited, and his body brutally mutilated. Those were dark days. The daughter became a woman and he honored his promise to her father, even though she brought him nothing by means of wealth and certainly nothing by reputation. Ellowyn was the result of their marriage. The mother died during the birthing. This noble prince was so bereft, though he loved the child.”

Lia had heard this story before. “Do you think...?” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “Do you think I am from that family somehow?” She was desperate to believe it.

“It is possible,” he replied. “I have wondered what signs of your heritage would emerge as you got older. It was last year when the Medium opened up in you as it never had before. Back when you left Muirwood. The old king, you remember, was the one who crushed Pry-Ree. It was no accident that you were at Winterrowd. I feel that strongly.” He flinched again, biting back his words from the pain. “It is no accident that you are here now to protect an heir of Pry-Ree.”

She looked down at her muddy shoes, exhausted but excited. “Did this high king have any close relations? Any brothers or sisters?”

“He did indeed. He was survived by a younger brother who became high king on his death. He was rebellious as a child. He never was a maston himself and so the Medium did not help him. He was captured by the old king and executed.”

“Did he have any children?” Lia asked.

“It was common knowledge that he fathered many children, within and without of wedlock.”

Lia bit her lip, struggling with her surging feelings. “Why did you not tell me this before?”

“When Almaguer first visited?” he asked, wincing as new stabs of pain afflicted him. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “You showed a penchant for the Medium, but nothing more than that. It was after you returned from the Bearden Muir that you told me the orb spoke to you in Pry-rian. When you aided me healing Astrid, the Medium spoke to me very clearly. It was time for you to take the test.”

Lia nodded dumbly, amazed at what she had learned.

The Aldermaston’s eyes flashed. “There is a mystery here, Lia. You see, there are no wretcheds in Pry-Ree.”

She looked at him sharply then glanced at Martin, who nodded. “It is true, lass, what the Aldermaston tells you. If a child is born out of wedlock, they have the same rights of inheritance as a natural born child. We feel it a great cruelty to abandon any child.” His voice choked for a moment with strong emotions. He clenched his teeth again, grimacing, then continued. “If one is abandoned, there is always a family willing to claim the babe. Always. Even total strangers. There is no practice of abandoning a child in the gutters of an Abbey. It does not happen.”

A surge of feelings went through her. She looked at the Aldermaston seriously. “So you are saying it is a rare thing for me to be here. A wretched from Pry-Ree?”

He nodded slowly. “Indeed, it is rare but not impossible. You were born when Pry-Ree fell. The children of the ruling Family were gathered up, Ellowyn for example. Get some rest now, Lia. You must be fresh if you are to face the test tonight. It will not be easy. Martin will slip away with the others while we are inside the Abbey. Before dawn, you will be a maston.”

Lia swallowed and thought about what she had learned. “Do you truly think so?”

The Aldermaston winced again, but he did not gasp or quail. His knuckles were white as he gripped the table. “Passing the test requires a good memory. You must be prepared to remember what you learn inside. I cannot help. I can only teach you. You may ask no questions once we are inside. But if I know anything about you, Lia – you do have a good memory. You always have.”

She smiled at him and then started for the door. As she touched the handle, she stopped and glanced back. “Is the Blight coming, Aldermaston?”

His face was grave. “Only the Abbeys hold it at bay, child.”

“If Muirwood falls, it will come?”

He nodded slowly. “When you become a maston, you will be hunted. Those like the Queen Dowager will seek your blood.”

She gave him a small smile. “I think you suspected that happening when you called
me
to be a hunter.”

“Wise…for one so young,” he whispered hoarsely.

She gave the Aldermaston a look of sympathy. “I am glad to be taking the test at Muirwood. It is my Abbey. I will defend her.”

* * *

“Perseverance is more prevailing than violence; and many things which cannot be overcome when they are together, yield themselves up when taken little by little. Many tyrants have sat on a throne, and those whom no man would think on, have worn crowns.”

- Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey

* * *

It was a fitful sleep full of strange whimsical dreams. Lia awoke gradually, feeling more rested than she deserved considering the punishment she had given her body in recent days. As she left Pasqua’s bedchamber and exited the manor house, there was the feeling of fog in the air, though nothing obstructed her vision. The sunlight came down at an angle, indicating the approaching dusk. The air was thick and humid, each breath heavier than normal. From the corner of her eye, she saw the majestic Abbey and it seemed to whisper to her, to beckon her inside to learn its secrets. For a moment, it seemed alive, staring at her.

As she rounded the corner to the kitchen, there was Duerden pacing outside, his face flushed. He did not see her, so she darted back around the corner and went towards the rear doors where she could avoid him. There was a whistling sound and she paused, peering around the bend. In the shade was Colvin, lunging with his sword, swooping and twirling it as if he faced a dozen knights trying to kill him. She bit her lip, wondering if that was the moment to talk to him, but he looked so fierce and determined that she slunk away, back against the wall.

Both doors were blocked.

Muttering to herself at the unfairness of it, she decided to confront Duerden. When he saw her coming, his cheeks flushed.

“Are you going…to the maypole dance?” Duerden asked, stammering in his speech.

She stared at him as if he were ridiculous. “I do not think anyone will be dancing tonight,” she answered.

“No! Several have been outside the gates and back again with the news. The Queen Dowager wants the Aldermaston in custody and the earls. Everyone else has been given a safe conduct to come and go as they desire. She announced it at noon and opened up her coffers to pay for cider and bread. Those who approach her knights are given coins. Whitsunday is still going to happen tonight. Where have you been, Lia?”

She was dumbstruck. What was happening? “I have been sleeping, Duerden. The Aldermaston has errands for me tonight.” How exactly could she tell him that she was facing the maston test?

“Surely you are not staying here tonight,” he said warningly.

“Surely I am. Muirwood is my home,” she answered. “Jon Hunter did not murder the old king, Duerden! The Aldermaston had nothing to do with it.”

He looked crestfallen. “The other wretcheds are leaving. Reome, Trisa, they are all in the square drinking Muirwood cider! The only ones who have stayed behind are Astrid, Pasqua, and Sowe. They are in the kitchen, eating the treats because Pasqua will not leave and she will not sell them to the Queen’s men.”

“Did Bryn leave?”

“I think so…”

Lia shook her head and marched past him to the kitchen doors, but he caught her arm.

“Lia, you cannot stay here!”

She looked him in the eye. “How can you abandon him, Duerden? He is the Aldermaston. Who is the Queen Dowager but a foreigner from Dahomey? When did she earn the right to govern in this Hundred? To threaten us? Go join the others then. I will not abandon him.”

His expression was troubled, wracked with pain. “I do not want you to get hurt. I…I care about you.”