The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3) (8 page)

The King’s Daughter

W
hen Maia pushed open the door to the trading shop on Flax Street, she was surprised to see so many people bustling about frantically. She spotted Simon Fox quickly. He had seemed solemn and almost detached in Muirwood, but now he looked agitated and unkempt. His velvet cap was gone, his brown hair was mussed, and his eyes were bleary from lack of sleep. He was talking to three men at once, but when he noticed her, his eyes blazed wide and he nearly shoved the men aside.

“Lady Maia!” he said, choking. He rushed to her side, staring at her in utter amazement. “But how? You are here? Truly? Or do my eyes deceive me?” He reached out and touched her arm, as if to assure himself that she was not a phantom.

“I am safe,” she answered, searching the room. “But where is my husband?”

“In the front lines of the crowd attempting to force entry into the castle. Tanner and Brent—quickly! Tell him that she is here.”

“At once,” one of the men replied. Needing no further instruction, both of them rushed out the door.

Simon went to the window, looked out quickly, and then steered her into a comfortable, furnished back room. He gestured for her to take a seat in what had to be his chair—a thick, padded leather chair behind a broad desk. She chose a small couch instead and sat down, trying to calm her trembling hands.

“How are you even here?” he asked in utter astonishment.

“I was rescued,” she answered.

“By?”

She stared at him. “The kishion whom my father hired to kill me.”

Looking even more bewildered in face of her explanation, he went and sat down on the edge of his desk, tugging at the strands of his forked beard. He was young, only a few years older than she was, but he was wiser than most, and his mind worked quickly.

“It is known to the Victus that the new headsman is a kishion. But he had orders to kill you . . .” He looked at her gravely. “I have tried all night to find a way into the castle to free you. They locked every gate, sealed every porter door. No traffic was allowed in for any reason unless the visitor bore the chancellor’s seal. Crabwell is clinging to power by his fingernails. And so the king and I suggested a riot.”

Maia nodded. “There was talk of it in the tower during the night.” She stifled a yawn. “I have not slept at all. They were moving us around on the hour. My friend Suzenne was also on the platform with me, but I could not save her. Her husband, Dodd, is also imprisoned in Pent Tower. Can you—?”

“I will send someone at once,” he said, rising swiftly from the desk and disappearing into the other room.

When he returned, he found her in the midst of another yawn. Before either of them said anything, he quickly went to a side cabinet and withdrew a small blanket. “You are exhausted. Here, lie on the couch awhile and rest. My men are searching for the king and your friends. I am sorry for this ordeal, Lady Maia. That your father would stoop to this . . . well, those are the only words available to me. I am truly sorry.”

She gratefully accepted the blanket. “My father is dead,” she said. “The kishion is going after Crabwell next.”

Simon blanched. “Then the government has been toppled, and the country is at risk of invasion. A new ruler needs to be chosen immediately. It will not take long for Hautland or Paeiz to press a claim.”

“Or Dahomey?” Maia asked with an arch look. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

“He would not do that to you,” Simon replied, smiling benignly. “You have changed him, my lady. He is a different man since coming to Muirwood. You have humbled his pride. I had not even believed it possible.”

Maia smiled and then stretched out on the cushions.

A hand jostled her shoulder what felt like moments later. She must have fallen asleep, though she had no memory of it. Simon was bent over her, and as soon as she processed what was happening, she allowed him to help her sit.

“He is coming,” he whispered. “Anxious to be sure. I still await word on your friends.”

Maia brushed some hair behind her ear and sat up, feeling at once dizzy and lethargic. She heard the authoritative sound of boots marching down the hall, and suddenly Collier was in the room. She was so relieved to see him, it must have shown on her face. He rushed up to her and hugged her so tight it almost hurt. His hand stroked her hair, and she could feel a slight tremor in his touch.

“By the Blood,” he gasped, pulling away slightly to look at her, his hands cupping her face. Through his relief, she could see the marks of a long night spent in dread and agony. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were smudges of stubble across his tense jaw. His body trembled with pent-up energy. “You are safe. I almost could not believe it when they told me. It was too much. It was too good. I
begged
the Medium to save you, for I could not,” he said hoarsely.

She smiled, so grateful to be here with him after despairing of ever seeing him again, so warmed by his concern and affection. He brought her back down to the couch and sat beside her, holding her close. “Would that I had an army. Would that I had wings to fly over that wall. I could not get to you, Maia, and it nearly killed me. How did you escape?”

“The kishion freed me,” she answered, squeezing him hard. She felt grateful for what her protector had done, but it caused her deep concern that he was acting on his own. What would he do next? Who else would he kill? She suspected he had done it because of his feelings about her, which troubled her even more. Worry could come later, though, and she shoved the thought from her mind so she could savor her reunion with Collier.

She pulled back and grazed his cheek with her fingers. “But I believe the Medium was what truly saved me.”

“So do I,” he answered. He shook his head in amazement. “Poor Simon, I have not been patient. The castle was completely secured, and they were letting no one enter. The streets are rioting, Maia. People are demanding you. They are shouting for the king’s daughter to be their queen. Yes! They are chanting for you. They were going to depose your father, but word has gotten out that he died last night.”

Maia could hardly contain the feelings cascading through her—there was a sense of loss for her father, though that was tempered with relief, gratitude for her people’s support, and the solace of at last being in Collier’s arms. Tears pricked her eyes.

“When you were banished and your titles were stripped away, that was all they were allowed to call you. The king’s daughter. The people have watched your suffering, Maia. They have resented your father’s treatment of you. The mayor is even now rallying the citizens to rescue you and proclaim you queen throughout the land.”

Maia wrinkled her brow. “I do not even know him. Why is he so eager to help me?”

Collier smirked. “Because Simon and I told him that the king had abandoned the city to be destroyed by the armada. And then we told him of what had transpired in Muirwood. Believe me, people here have heard nothing of what happened on Whitsunday. Much of court is corrupt, but not all. They resented the king’s treatment of you and were ready to depose him even before they knew the truth.”

She shook her head, dazed. “They were truly ready to depose him?”

He nodded and grinned. “I told you before. The people cannot abide him. They resented his treatment of your mother, not to mention his attitude toward you. While there were no tears shed over Deorwynn’s execution, once word got out about your impending death, the people went mad with rage.”

“I told the king about your father’s fate and Crabwell’s grab for power,” Simon said. “There is chaos in the streets. I have reports that the Earl of Forshee has fled the city. Many of the other earls have left too. The army was divided and sent to different parts of the country to prepare for the invasion, leaving the heart of the kingdom unprotected.”

Maia nodded somberly. “What of my friends? I am worried about Suzenne and Dodd. Have they escaped? Were they harmed?”

Simon shrugged apologetically. “The outer wall has been breached, but the inner one is still under siege. We have no word from them or about them, but do not be hasty in your concern. Anyone seeking to win your favor would know to protect them. Do not give up hope.”

She was restless to hear news of her friends, but she realized it was inevitable for word to travel slowly amidst such tumult. Gathering Collier’s hands in hers, she entwined their fingers and gazed into his eyes. “What would you advise?” She looked at both men. “I confess, part of me longs to return to Muirwood and seek the Aldermaston’s counsel.”

Collier shook his head firmly. “This is not a moment to flinch, Maia. How can I put this gently? The Medium has delivered this kingdom into your hands. It is yours by right. It is yours by grace. It is
yours
.” He squeezed her hands. “And your people
need
you!”

Maia was shaking all over. It felt as if a great door was closing in her life and another even larger one was opening. The path ahead was vast and unpredictable. But her husband spoke true; she had been born for this. She understood the need to create calm immediately, to give her people hope.

How quickly her situation had changed. She had gone out into the greenyard expecting to be executed—she had even knelt before the block and bared her neck. Now, before the day was even done, the people in the streets were hailing her as their queen.

She felt a gentle murmur in her heart and realized that her destiny was just about to unfold.

To help protect Simon’s identity, Maia and Collier left his shop and met the lord mayor in a private room at a nearby inn.

The mayor of Comoros was a worldly man and a cunning one. He had dark hair with a speckling of gray and a small little stripe of beard just beneath his bottom lip. Neither tall nor short, neither heavy nor slight, he was swathed in costly court attire, jeweled doublets, and a fur-lined cape.

“Your Majesty,” he said with studied formality, bowing gracefully. “I have taken the liberty of sending for several gowns. The sheriff of Kellinge was only too quick to supply them, as well as jewels to match. I thought you might like a variety of colors and styles to choose from. If you are to ride through the city, you must look the part.”

He bowed once more with a flourish.

Moments later, several servants streamed into the room, carrying the costly gowns for her to see. Each one was sumptuous and clearly befitting someone of her station. Collier frowned at the majority of them and subtly gestured toward a green-and-gold Dahomeyjan style.

Maia shook her head. “No, my Lord Mayor. Justin,” she said more informally. “This was not planned or anticipated. I will ride without changing my attire.”

“But it is a
servant’s
gown,” he objected. “They will not even know who you are. My lady, I appreciate the gesture of humility—in fact, I honor you for it—but the people need to see you as their queen.”

“Thank you for the trouble you took in bringing these to me,” Maia said sincerely. “It was thoughtful of you to try to anticipate my needs. Thank you. But this you must understand.” She swallowed, trying to compose herself. In her mind, she could practically hear Corriveaux’s voice as he promised her gowns and jewels and courtiers and the envy of all. “I am not my father. I am his daughter. My mother spent her final years as queen living as a wretched in Muirwood. I myself have just passed the maston test at that abbey. Our kingdom is on the brink of civil war, but that is far from the only threat we face. We are also on the brink of an invasion by men who care nothing for the sanctity of lives—men who want only to crush us. This is not a time for pageantry or show. A queen
serves
her people. So it is best if I come in that guise. I have come to serve Comoros, not to rule it.”

The mayor stared at her as if she had uttered speech in a foreign language. When he glanced at Collier, she did too, and what she saw there was heartening—could his look be
approving
?
Of course, if anyone would understand, her husband would. He knew all too well the benefit of a servant’s garb.

“Now, Justin,” she continued. “Thank you for providing a horse. I do need that. If I ride next to you, I think the people will understand who I am. You mentioned it would be best if we rode through town so that we could rally more supporters.”

“It is dangerous,” the mayor said, “but also unexpected. Your enemies will not have time to retaliate. The inner grounds of the castle are still locked down, but we now control the outer gates. As I suggested earlier, once we have ridden through town, we should assemble a host of citizens to follow you to Pent Tower. There you can command the castellan to open the gates to you. If he refuses, we lay siege. There are not enough provisions there to last more than a fortnight. But I know the castellan. If you come, I trust he will do his duty and open the gates. The people believe you are the rightful heir, despite the acts.”

“Very well,” Maia said. “Prepare the escort. We ride at once. I would like to make sure the castle is ours before sunset, if possible. Two of my dear friends are trapped inside, along with any number of other innocent victims. The chaos and looting must end swiftly. We face too many threats from the outside to be this divided within.”