The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3) (22 page)

Justin beamed. “It would indeed. With your permission?”

“You have it.” She turned to her chancellor. “Richard, see that the order is written and affix it with the seal granting authority.” It was only then that she turned back to the Earl of Caspur. “Bring your army to Comoros to defend us. You have the largest force and the most experience in battle. Some of the vigor being used to challenge us may wane in time. It will give us more options if we force Schuyler to react to us rather than reacting to him. Do not engage his army, my lord. Bring your army here.”

His jaw quivered with disappointed rage, but though his eyes burned with enmity, he gave her a curt nod and made no comment.

“Go make your preparations,” Maia said. “Report back to the chancellor regularly. Keep him informed of your progress.”

She dismissed the council.

The rest of the day was long and wearisome. Being a queen, Maia discovered, was replete with commitments and obligations. It seemed every person in the realm wanted to see her, speak with her, implore her for a position or a favor. Thankfully, her chancellor controlled access to her during the formal times of the day. Only in rare moments could he travel back to Augustin to see his wife and assist her with her duties in the abbey, and Maia hurt for them, knowing the separation was painful.

Suzenne served the same gate-keeping function during Maia’s private hours. The two were enjoying an elaborate meal in Maia’s private chambers. Her other ladies-in-waiting, including Jayn Sexton, were also there, helping to arrange an assortment of gowns, traveling clothes, blankets, and household items that she had found herself owning without knowing how. Many of the pieces, she learned, had belonged to her mother before being usurped by Lady Deorwynn. After Suzenne, Maia was closest to Jayn and appreciated her quiet ways and thoughtfulness.

Maia’s appetite had waned with the threat of rebellion, but the soup was good, and she nibbled on the loaf of trencher bread.

“I miss the Aldermaston’s kitchen at Muirwood,” Maia said to Suzenne.

Her friend smiled and nodded in agreement. One of the other girls had picked up a lute and had begun plucking simple chords from it—the sound a lovely accompaniment to their meal.

“What did you think of the council meeting this morning?” Maia asked.

Suzenne fidgeted with her spoon. “Caspur looked quite . . . displeased, but I do not know what else you could have done. He seemed determined to get his way. I am glad you did not give in. He made it very uncomfortable, though.”

“He did,” Maia agreed. “It will take time before the council acts in harmony. I confess, it is difficult to discern the motives of every person. Caspur means well, I think, but he is very ambitious. His need for glory clouds his judgment.”

She continued to eat the soup. A dish of spiced fish was nearby, and she plucked a few flaky crumbs from it with her fingers. The cooks always insisted on bringing her a variety of dishes and had tried to learn about her favorites. She had admitted to a fondness for Pry-rian cooking, which had upset the head cook very much. She sighed aloud. It was just too difficult to attempt pleasing everyone.

There was a short knock at the door, and Suzenne sighed and pushed away from the table to answer it. Maia did not feel like seeing visitors. In truth, she yearned to don a simple disguise so she could leave the palace grounds to visit the people and learn firsthand about their troubles and the mood—much as her own husband did on occasion in his own kingdom. She did not want to rely solely on the lord mayor’s telling. Suzenne’s expression changed quickly, and she turned aside to admit Sabine and Simon Fox.

Smiling eagerly, Maia rose to greet them and rushed to embrace her grandmother. “Have you eaten yet?” Maia asked her. “We have more than enough. Come share with us.”

Sabine smiled and patted her back. “I had a meal already, but thank you. If we could speak privately?”

Suzenne nodded and quickly dismissed the ladies-in-waiting, who left the chamber from a back exit without even a murmur. Jayn Sexton paused in the doorway, looking back to see if Suzenne would join her, but Sabine gestured for her to stay. When her private chamber was private once more, Maia gave her grandmother a worried look. “What is it?”

Sabine’s expression was thoughtful, pensive. “I know about your troubles, Maia. I have heard about the rebellion. But I must leave Comoros again almost as quickly as I have arrived.”

Maia’s heart sank. “I know I should not strive to keep you here longer,” she said, taking her grandmother’s hands and squeezing them tenderly. “But it pains me to be apart from you. You are my only Family. Where must you go next?”

Sabine shook her head sadly. “I still have duties to perform, dear one. I must continue to open the Apse Veils throughout the realms. I have already opened one each in Avinion and Mon. I go to Dahomey next and then Paeiz.” She glanced at Simon. “There is troubling news, Maia. I must go to Hautland as well.”

Maia stiffened. “But they are loyal to the Dochte Mandar,” she said.

Sabine nodded. “I know. Simon received word from the Hand of the Victus. The Hand is the one who directs them. The person in that position is given his title because of the saying, ‘the hand directs the knife.’ The Victus, as you know, employs various machinations throughout the kingdoms. They are behind Paeiz’s attack on Dahomey. They seek nothing but turmoil and conflict; their aim is to pit each kingdom against the other. Obviously they want to embroil Dahomey in a war with its neighbor to prevent your husband from defending Comoros when the armada comes.”

Maia’s heart wrenched at the mention of her husband. She missed him dreadfully and had not heard from him since he had sailed from Comoros.

“What news have you received then?”

“The Hand communicates throughout the realms through waymarker Leerings they have stolen. One of the properties of Leerings is to bind two points that are distant, allowing individuals to touch minds and speak to each other.”

Maia knew about this phenomenon already, having experienced it in the cursed shores of Dahomey. She had touched a Leering to summon water and had found herself ensnared in a duel of wills with Corriveaux and another Dochte Mandar.

“Yes,” Maia said, revolted by the memory of wearing the kystrel, “I have used a Leering that way in the past.”

Sabine turned to Simon. “Tell her the rest.”

She had not seen Simon for several days. His dark eyes were even more brooding than usual. “The Hand of the Victus has changed. I normally would not mention something like this to you, except you know the man who now leads them. His name is Corriveaux, from Dahomey.”

Maia felt a cold shudder at the mention of his name. He had hunted her throughout the realms, conspired to make her the queen of the hetaera. The Medium had saved her from him in Naess, where she had feared her journey would end.

“You told me of him,” Suzenne said, touching Maia’s arm. She looked grave. “He was in authority with the Dochte Mandar in Dahomey. He hunted you.”

“And he leads them now?” Maia asked, new fear blossoming in her heart. In all the times she had faced him, his power of will with the kystrel had exceeded her own. And yet now she served the Medium without using some trinket to control it. Surely that would make a difference.

“Indeed,” Simon said. “I received word from my master that Corriveaux suspects him of betraying the Victus. He believed that Corriveaux would test his loyalty.” He looked so dark and serious, and every word he spoke carried a weight. “He will very likely test my own loyalty as well. Walraven would like to meet Sabine in Hautland to discuss recent events. He seeks her wisdom and input on how to proceed. It may be time for Walraven to come out openly against Corriveaux.”

Maia felt a warning throb from the Medium. “I do not like this,” she whispered.

“Nor do I,” Sabine replied. “Messages delivered through Leerings are troubling because you do not always know the identity of the sender. There are Dochte Mandar throughout each major city of the realm who transcribe and transmit these messages. So while the message Simon received claims to be from Walraven, I have my suspicions.”

“I felt a warning from the Medium,” Maia said.

Sabine touched her arm. “As have I,” she replied. Suzenne’s expression was grave as she listened.

“What will you do?” Maia asked.

“There are abbeys under construction throughout the realms,” Sabine said. “I plan to go to Hautland to open the Apse Veil in Viegg anyway. But the Cruciger orb tells me Walraven is still in Naess. I will check it every day. If he stays in Naess, then I know it is a trap from Corriveaux. But if the Cruciger orb shows him in Hautland, then I will know it is possible to meet him there. I trust the Cruciger orb will guide me to him. I will take some Evnissyen with me, of course. But I am concerned about Walraven. I have an uneasy feeling whenever I think about him.”

Maia frowned—the disquiet inside her had not abated. “I will worry about you, Grandmother,” she said. “I could not bear it if anything happened to you.”

Sabine smiled and smoothed Maia’s cheek. “We have an advantage the Victus do not share. With the Apse Veils restored, we can send mastons across the kingdoms very quickly. As I travel from realm to realm, I will ask for help to join you in Comoros. You have the support of Pry-Ree and Dahomey. We must negotiate the support of other kingdoms so we can wrench loose the yoke of the Naestors completely.” She sighed. “How I wish I had Lia’s Gift of Seering. Instead, we must stumble ahead through the fog, not knowing the way. But the Medium will guide us.”

Maia felt pain in her heart at the thought of not seeing her grandmother for a while.

“There is more,” Simon said, reaching into his tunic and withdrawing a sealed letter. “I have not read the contents.”

“From my husband?” Maia asked eagerly.

Simon smiled and handed her the letter. It bore the royal seal of Dahomey. “It came a short while ago. I am told he arrived safely.”

Maia broke the seal and opened the letter, her heart filling with giddiness at the prospect of seeing her husband’s words.

The first thing she noticed sent a stab of terror through her heart. It was the signature at the end.
Corriveaux.

Greetings, Queen Maia of Comoros

Knowing full well that you can read, I address this to you personally. If my will has been done, this note has reached you through the hand of one of my loyal supporters in your realm. I congratulate you on your coronation. You will not long wear your crown. When you betrayed us and refused to lend your support to our cause, do not suppose that I would let you claim a crown without my consent. I hereby warn you, Marciana Soliven, that I am coming for you. I will strike the heart of your realm first. Your heart, to be precise. You will suffer greatly for your arrogance and conceit. What you have been given can be ripped from you. You will watch your people be murdered. Those you have sheltered from Assinica will curse your name in the end. You will learn firsthand the consequences of defying me. Yes, I am coming for you, Maia. Be warned.

Corriveaux

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Uprising

C
orriveaux’s message served its intended purpose. Though Maia’s grandmother had warned her that the message’s intent was to cause fear and worry, the very emotions that would repel the Medium’s assistance, in the days following her receipt of the note, she often found herself ruminating over it.

It did comfort her to hear directly from Collier not long after she received her enemy’s ominous missive. Her husband had scrawled a quick note confiding his plans to bring the Paeizians to heel. She could easily imagine him in the costume of Feint Collier, dashing around the countryside on his cream-colored horse, and she secretly wished she could join him. In her darkest hours, she could not help but worry for him; Corriveaux had threatened her heart . . . could he plan on attacking her husband? She was anxious for Collier to pass the maston test, but it had taken several months of study for the Medium to permit her to take it.