The Scourge of Muirwood (22 page)

When she had recovered from her tears, she pulled away and looked up at him, relief shining in her wet eyes.

“You were worried I would abandon you,” he said hoarsely, collecting a tear from her chin.

She shook her head. “No. I was more worried that I had heard the whisperings of the Medium incorrectly. I am relieved that I hearkened to them. That I trusted them.”

He smiled. “Well…I will offer you what relief that I can. You have suffered the ill will and opinion of the world long enough. When you leave Leigh Abbey, you will not return to Comoros again. You will spend the rest of your days in Pry-Ree, a queen-maston. It has been several generations since our people had one.” He cocked his head to the side, drinking in her face, her expression, the light he saw emanating from her countenance. The insidious whispers that she and her mother were hetaera were almost amusing if not so insulting. He would not see any marks of tattoos on her skin, or a brand on her shoulder to know the truth. Her very countenance radiated warmth and light and liveliness.

He was thoughtful as he asked her, “Do you know how they pronounce this Abbey in Pry-rian?”

She nodded confidently. “I do – for I have studied your mother tongue since I was thirteen. It sounds similar, but there is a different inflection. They would call it ‘
Lia
.’”

The Prince smiled as he felt the barb stab even deeper. “A beautiful name.”

Lia was asleep almost before her head rested against the cushion of the pallet in the loft, and she slept deeply. The weariness had seeped into her bones and with little more than a flittering thought at Colvin, just lingering on the memory of his smile and the forcefulness of his arms wrapped around her, she slept and did not stir until Martin crept up the ladder and shook her shoulder. For a moment, everything was a blur, her mind still lost in the fog of sleep, his face foreign with the crisscross of tattoos, almost menacing. She blinked rapidly, hungering for more rest, but she noticed the slant of the light coming into the paddock and realized the day was ebbing fast.

“You should have woken me sooner,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

He shook his head sternly. “Best that you were not seen today. A retinue arrived from Vezins, bearing the tunic and badge of Dieyre. I did not see the man, but I understand that he and Forshee are enemies.”

Lia’s heart strained with worry. “Colvin,” she whispered.

Martin gazed at her sternly. “Focus on your task, lass. Not on his. Dieyre was looking for you. His men were asking if a flax-haired lass had been seen. One without tattoos and carried a blade. It was wise when you arrived as you did, before the other stablehands were here. I have waited until they all left to drink their cups of cider. Now we can go, but keep your hood up. Here – some food. You must be hungry.”

She was and she took the meat pie gratefully and devoured it. The spices were different than what she was used to, but it was still tasty and satisfied her hunger. He also produced some nuts, a wedge of cheese, and a half-eaten piece of bread.

After she finished the meal, she followed him down the paddock ladder and they left together through the rear, heading back to the hidden garden she had emerged from at dawn. The weariness was replaced by strength. They walked stiffly together, listening keenly for the rowdy sounds of onlookers and passersby.

“You know more about what will happen than you can say,” Lia said, seeing how deliberately quiet he was.

“Aye, lass.” His face was stern, his blue eyes narrowed.

“Is it because of the binding? Is that what keeps you from telling me?”

He glanced backward to see if they were being followed. “It is and it is not. I do not know everything that will happen. Or what order it will happen in. What I was told was very sharp at times, and very curious at other times. It has been a great many years which has faded my memory. I know the most important points. But some of it I expected to happen at Muirwood Abbey and it did not. Maybe it will happen here.”

That was not the answer she hoped for. What clues had her father left with Martin to act on? How much had been revealed in his tome? She was anxious to find it – to use the Cruciger orb and find where it was hidden. If she could overturn the binding sigil, she would be free to tell Colvin the truth and end his torment. But as Martin had warned her, it was best to focus on the task at hand. It was probably one of the reasons her father had given her the orb, knowing that she would one day see to find her father’s tome with it.

“There,” Lia directed towards the shallow alcove that led to the garden. They advanced cautiously, listening to the din and laughter that came over the rooftops from another street which was more crowded and blustering. She pushed the gate inward and walked to the hidden spot in the wall where the Leering waited. This time, instead of warning her away, it greeted her with an intoxicating smell. There was no feeling of danger at all, only a thrilling sense of excitement.

She paused, staring at it, confused. She touched the Leering and felt at its powers, trying to understand why it had changed. In a moment, the Medium supplied the answer. Once it had admitted her presence with the proper password, she would be allowed to pass it without barrier. In a word, it thought she was a hetaera because only a hetaera would have known the password. Within the stone, she could sense its formidable defenses. Much like the portals at the Abbey which prevented intruders from entering, the Leerings at Dochte were equally powerful. She questioned the stone with her thoughts, probing to see if another hetaera had passed it since she left that morning. She had the strong impression that none had.

“What is it?” Martin asked, studying the expression on her thoughtful face.

“The prey is careless,” she answered. “It is safe to pass.”

They crossed the maze and emerged into the garden beyond. In this case, they were not so lucky as before. There was one person in the garden, which forced them to halt and remain hidden. They observed her from behind the hedgerows and trees, meandering down the walkway, lost in thought. The sunlight was fading still, but there was enough light to see her face when she turned and came towards where they were hiding. Her long dark hair and supple walk was mesmerizing – until her face lifted and Lia nearly gasped with shock. It was a beautiful girl, probably her own age with dark eyes and raven black hair. She looked so similar to Pareigis that Lia almost darted from her hiding place and ran as fast as she could. That moment of panic soon passed when she realized that though the features were similar, she was staring at the Queen Dowager’s sister. She followed the path and then started when a voice reached them from the far end. Lia recognized the voice immediately.

“There you are,” Dieyre said. “I was told I would find you here.”

“This is a private garden,” the girl said, her voice sly and sultry. “Which of the girls let you in?”

“I hardly remember her name. You are all alike to me.”

“Is that so? Even my sister?”

“She is…unique. There is no woman like her in the world.”

“Is she still in bondage at Muirwood?” the girl asked with a grin in her voice.

“You know as well as I that no Abbey can hold her. She will seduce them all before Twelfth Night. I am certain of it. How fares the little lark from Sempringfall? When do I get to see her? I hear she is much changed.”

“You will see her tonight at the fete, of course. You have not forgotten our quaint ways, have you?”

He took her hand and kissed her open palm. “I have nearly died of boredom in my kingdom. Dahomey suits me better. I understand your brother the king arrives on the morrow. I will get the princedom he promised me?”

“You will get everything you were promised,” she replied with emphasis. “Including the earl’s sister as your wife. Our spies have seen her. She is being followed.”

“Where?” Dieyre demanded, his voice betraying a hint of anxiety.

“In due time. All in due time. Come – I must change before the fete. I have a new gown I have had tailored. You will like it.”

Still holding her hand, he escorted her back towards the Abbey walls. “I look forward to seeing Forshee’s face when you arrive wearing it. Dahomeyjan customs suit me quite well. I enjoy watching a maston squirm.”

Their voices trailed off, leaving Lia smoldering with anger. Martin appeared at her elbow. “Use the orb,” he whispered. “You must find the girl and the serpent’s mark. It is somewhere here in the garden.”

“The mark is everywhere,” Lia said, untying the pouch strings and pulling out the orb.

In her mind, she pictured the image she had seen in her visions. The coiling double-snakes – the image that burned with fire. The orb swung sluggishly, as if the very air around them was too thick for it to move freely. A dread filled her heart, a deep poignant dread. They followed the trail through the garden, listening for even the smallest scuff of a boot, a sigh or whisper that did not belong to the wind or the leaves. The garden was sprawling, weaving itself around the entire rear of the Abbey proper. Nestled within a maze of hedges, a maze that would have made her hopelessly lost, she found it. The hedge opened and revealed a sunken pit of stone, with a single stone lid as a shield to the opening. Night had fallen fully and she summoned just a little hint of light to observe the area. The feeling was utter blackness. The strength of the Medium in the place startled her – but it was not the familiar essence of Muirwood. It was raw, raging power – a force that made her feel insignificant and loathsome. The power was chained there, like a mighty beast sulking with fury at its captivity. She sensed it brooding beneath the stone.

“This is a fell place,” Martin whispered hoarsely. She looked back at him and saw his teeth clenched, his face twitching with concern as the tide of emotion surged around them. “Great evil lurks here. Do what you must, girl.”

Lia reached out and touched the surface of the Leering, closing her eyes and preparing herself for the battle of wills that would follow. The impression struck her like a pillar of pure stone, nearly crushing her with its weight. She lost all sense of herself for a moment, all sense of who she was. The blackness solidified around her and she recognized she had no power to speak, to move, or even blink. It was nothing but blackness, so thick she could see nothing, nothing at all. Her heartbeat’s frantic wail was the only sound that she heard. Not even a breath escaped her.

Then the smothering sense was gone and she could move again. The Leering had accepted her. She could almost feel a smug smile emanating from it.
Tame me, child?
it seemed to be saying.
I am without beginning of days or end of years. Open my chasm and be acquainted with our ways. We are older than the stars. You will join us or you will die. We welcome you here, child of fallen Pry-Ree.

Lia’s skin crawled as the sniffing, mewling, hissing of the Myriad Ones dashed around her gleefully. They swarmed her, nudging and writhing around her as she knelt next to the stone. It made the small hairs on the her skin pucker. What was she to do?

The pull and tug of the Myriad Ones shrouded her, wrapping them in their folds so tightly she almost did not hear the Medium when it spoke. It was more of a gasp. A faint hint in deepest part of her soul.

Seek Hillel Lavender.

She heard it. She understood it. Rising, she shrugged away from the twisted beings lurking within the hedge maze. She walked quickly, following the orb through the maze until they emerged. Martin was chalk-white, his face haunted as he walked.

“What did you see?” Lia asked him.

He shook his head.

“Tell me,” she pressed.

“It was not what I saw but what I felt,” he answered. “The most vile thoughts came into my head. I dare not utter them. By Cheshu, a wicked place this is.” He looked at her fiercely. “You must end this, child. You must end this taint.”

She nodded. “That is why I came, I think.” Looking down at the orb, she asked it to find Hillel.

* * *

Without the Cruciger orb, she never would have found it. It was not a door hidden within the stone past a maze of secret tunnels that led her to Hillel’s room. The way was from the garden itself. A series of stone steps, hidden by the trees and the shrubbery, snaked their way up a single tower that rose like a great white torch into the star-spattered sky. The steps were narrow, the width more for the gait and size of a girl than a man. The stair coiled around the tower, ascending steeply round after round, going higher and higher. Lia motioned for Martin to wait below and with the orb in hand, she ascended. There was no railing to prevent a fall, only the wall itself to flatten herself against as she climbed higher and higher. The wind chilled her and made her shiver. Her legs burned as she continued to climb, coming around the tower again and again as she went up the neck of it towards a balcony she spotted high above her. Her heart thundered with the exertion. She knew she would find Hillel’s room at the top. There was no doubt of it.

Each step weighed against her, causing her to rest and gasp as she continued up and around, over and over. From the vantage of the tower, she could see the whole of the garden and realized some had lamps lit, which revealed little domes of light. She coughed against her arm to muffle the sound, and pressed upward, grateful her leg had healed so well. Another mountain to climb. One wrong step and she would plunge to her death. Best to keep focus on each step as she went. Another and another sweep around the tower wall. The breeze tugged at her cloak, giving her a sense of nausea. She licked her lips, trying to focus her courage. She was almost there.