The Scourge of Muirwood (9 page)

“I said be civil,” Lia said thickly.

Marciana looked at him, surprised at his tone. “You were injured on my behalf, like it or no. I owe you every courtesy, despite how you treat me.” She looked at Lia next. “It is all arranged. We have secured room aboard a small fishing vessel which will take us upriver in the morning. There, we will hire out a carter and return to Muirwood.”

Kieran interrupted. “I do not want to
go
to Muirwood. Send me to Pry-Ree.”

Marciana shook her head. “Impossible. It is too far and you need a healer. You will convalesce at Muirwood.”

Lia set her hand on Kieran’s shoulder as she saw him ready to argue. “We all understand your desire to return to your homeland. Muirwood is the gathering point. They will better be able to care for you there.”

“I do not wish to be cared for, nursed, or in general, pitied. Who are you to control my destiny in such a way? I would rather be tossed in the cargo of a ship headed to Bridgestow and take my chances amidst the vermin.”

Marciana looked at Lia and then back at Kieran. “Men are insufferable when they are hungry. Have you eaten since this morning? You have not. Reome, my dear, can you see to some food? Thank you so very much. I will not forget your role in freeing me. I will safeguard you. Thank you.” After Reome left, Marciana folded her arms and squinted at Kieran. “Did my brother treat you any worse than this after you saved his life, Lia?”

Lia also folded her arms and glared down at Kieran. “He has not retched on you yet, Ciana, but give his stomach a moment after he is eaten, and I will hazard he just may.”

“I am doomed to never walk again and you mock me,” Kieran said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. His face contorted with pain and he writhed on the bed.

Marciana approached and grabbed his hand and squeezed it fiercely. “Then I shall be your crutch, your stay, your helper. If you cannot walk because of me, then I will walk for you. If you were not in that tower today, then I would have taken a knife in
my
back. When I saw you coming up the stairs, when I looked into your eyes, I knew the Medium had summoned you to save me.” She turned and smiled at Lia. “How many times have I heard your story, Lia. That if you trust in the Medium, if you think and believe and hope, you will be saved.” Tears brimmed in her eyes and she shook her head firmly to master them. “I will not cry. I have shed too many tears this last fortnight. If I start again, I fear I may never stop and I will die of drowning.” She swallowed and breathed deeply. “I must never see Dieyre again. Please, Lia. You must keep him from me. I was being broken by that evil man, that Dochte Mandar. I nearly surrendered to his will. I was so thirsty, and all they would offer is this sweet cider that dulls your mind. He used a kystrel. I could feel it for what it was. I knew it for what it was, but I was powerless to resist it. It changed my feelings, Lia. I hated Dieyre for kidnapping me. I hated him for taking me away from those I care for.” She shook her head again. “Now I am in love with him against my will, and these conflicting feelings are torturing me. I know they are not real. I know they were planted in my soul by a foul and evil man. But they are part of me now. I only hope that when I pass the maston test, I will be able to banish them forever.”

Marciana looked at Lia pointedly. “As you passed it. When did you, Lia? I did not know you were a maston too until you made the sign.” There was a look of awe in her face.

“After you left Muirwood in the night.” Lia felt abashed, seeing not only awe but a little hint of jealousy in her eyes. She rubbed the spot on her shirt where the kishion’s knife had ripped the fabric but could not pierce her chaen. Being a maston had saved her life.

“Does Colvin know?”

She nodded and the grin on Marciana’s face was blinding in its intensity. “You must save him, Lia. You told me that he and Ellowyn were hostages at Dochte Abbey. That is where the Dochte Mandar come from. I do not know if they move in secret or not, but they are powerful with the Medium. There are rumors that they are coming to take over the Abbeys in our kingdom, to change our customs. In Dahomey, I heard from some of the knights that were escorting me here that they open the Abbeys for all to enter. That the secret rites of the mastons are being changed and proclaimed openly. They insist all must receive these rites. They say that we are keeping knowledge from the people to hoard power. There are riots from those demanding to be let inside the Abbeys. It is beginning to happen in our kingdom as well.”

“But what about the Leerings protecting them?” Lia said, angered.

Marciana looked sad. “They are failing. Many learners have returned home and said the Leerings are not working any more. Lia, the Blight is coming quickly. I can feel it. We do not have much time to stop it.”

Lia saw the nervous look in her eyes, the wild fear. She hugged her tight, grateful that she could face Colvin with the knowledge that his sister was safe. It was a burden she no longer had to carry.

It was Kieran who spoke next. “You cannot stop it. The Blight comes by Twelfth Night. I was alive when the Blight came to Pry-Ree. I do not wish to be here when it comes again. We leave in ships for another shore. It is less than a fortnight from now.”

Marciana straightened and looked him firmly in the eye. “If that is where the mastons go, then so will I.” She squeezed Lia’s arms. “Fetch my brother, Lia. Bring Colvin and Ellowyn back to Muirwood.”

Lia wished she could tell Marciana the truth about herself. She opened her mouth to try, but the Medium forced her not to speak the words. Truly, she had not really expected it would let her. “I will use the orb to find a ship to Dahomey. I will leave in the morning.”

“I do not know how many ships will be sailing in the morning,” Marciana said. “There is so much damage by the fire. But consider this. There is another port eastward. Doviur is the major port on our eastern shore. The straits there are the nearest point to Dahomey. I could send a mounted escort. If you rode hard, you could be there in the morning.”

“Does Doviur have any Abbeys?”

“There is one Abbey in that hundred. It is called Augustin Abbey.”

A feeling of peace came through her. “Then that is my road to Doviur. I will leave tonight.”

“Let me send an escort with you,” Marciana pleaded.

“They are needed here, Ciana. Those who will flee must go. They must warn others before the Blight comes. This is our last chance to warn them.”

She looked over at Kieran and took his hand in hers, gripping it firmly. “There is something about the Leerings in Muirwood. They will heal you faster than you think. And you will walk, Kieran Ven.” She squeezed his hand. “I know it.”

“You are not what you seem,” he answered softly, his face enigmatic.

She looked him in the eye, wishing she could tell him. Something passed between them, a spark of recognition. “Do I remind you of someone?” she asked simply.

He studied her face, her eyes. He looked as if he would speak, but his jaw clenched shut. Then he opened his mouth and said, “Yes.”

She patted his hand, thanking him with her eyes.
You did me service this day, Kieran Ven. I will not forget it.
She was about to withdraw her hand, but he clenched it tightly, making her wince.

“I was trained in the city. You were trained in the woods. Let me teach you what I know. Maybe some of it will help you.” He shifted slowly, wincing. “Dahomey is a land of great wealth. It sits in the center of many kingdoms. Just as Muirwood is the oldest in your realm, Dochte is the oldest Abbey in Dahomey. It is the richest Abbey in Dahomey. It is situated on an island, off the northwestern shore. When the tide leaves, it opens a land bridge to the island. It is dangerous to time it, for if the tide comes in during the journey, you will drown in quicksand. The orb will help you. When the tide comes in, sometimes there are fishing boats that will row you to the Abbey. Where there is great wealth, you will find corruption. The Abbey is built on top of the island. It is surrounded by the village of Dochte. There are huge walls separating the village from the Abbey proper on the dome of the hill. The walls are enormous. It is actually a giant castle, five or six stories high, that surrounds the sanctuary. The Abbey itself rises like a spike in the center of the island. It must have required two hundred years to build it, stone by stone. It is impressive. The village houses are lower down and are not as imposing. The only way in or out of the Abbey is through the main gate in the wall. I was able to enter because I was a maston, but I recall the disdain with which I was treated because of my clothing. Even though I was an ambassador from Pry-Ree, I was treated with contempt because I did not look like one. This is important, Lia. You may be allowed in because you know the maston signs, but you will stand out because of the way you dress. The women of Dahomey are very particular in their appearance.”

Lia understood and looked down at the soot stains on her shirt. “Are you afraid I will barge into Dochte the way I did at Lambeth?”

“It had crossed my mind,” Kieran said pointedly.

“I would give you this gown I am wearing,” Marciana offered. “Except I have no other gowns. They were all burned in the fire.”

“I cannot wear it,” Lia said, shaking her head. “I appreciate the warning, but the orb will show me another way. I think…perhaps…it is the reason I have had it all these years.”

Another pulse of warmth in her heart confirmed it.

Lia patted Kieran’s hand again. “I will see you again in Muirwood. Thank you. I am…proud of you, Kieran Ven.”

There was a voice, a whisper in her mind so faint she barely heard it.
I wish I could serve you in Dahomey, my lady. Daughter of my Prince.

You will serve me again
, she answered in her mind, pushing the thought at him.
In a far country where there is no Blight.

A small smile crept on his mouth and he nodded at her.

It was the first spark of hope Lia had since learning of the binding sigil. If she could not tell Colvin the truth with her words, perhaps she could tell him with her thoughts.

It was the first time Lia had tried to cross the Apse Veil on her own. Summoning her courage, she focused her thoughts on Augustin Abbey, repeating it over and over in her mind. The Medium swirled around her, sending a pricking feeling of dread deep inside her heart. There was something terrifying about the possibility of going so far with one footstep. It was even more terrifying to think that if she focused hard enough, she could step over to Idumea itself where the power of the Medium would probably devour her. Reining in those thoughts, she took several deep breaths and then walked forward through the shimmering curtain. The wrench of time and distance made her dizzy and nauseous. For a moment, she tottered, nearly falling. Her balance returned gradually, so she leaned against the side of the pillar and struggled to calm her heart.

As she opened her eyes, Lia noticed the surroundings had changed. The construction was beautiful but different. This Abbey was bigger than Muirwood, more impressive in its design and craftsmanship. Glancing around as she walked, she noticed the lush furnishings, the ribboned ironwork, the white tassels and gauzy curtains. Walking deliberately, she approached the Rood Screen, separating the chambers and promptly met several cassocked mastons, wearing white with golden trim.

“Where do you hail from?” one of them asked her, his face curious. “How old are you, child? You cannot be eighteen years, if that.”

“I am Lia from Muirwood,” she replied. “This is Augustin?”

“Muirwood.” There was something in the way he said it, the sudden wrinkle in his forehead that alarmed her. “The Aldermaston will wish to speak with you.”

“Have there been others?” she asked, watching their three faces for signs of a reaction. They all looked uneasy, wary, and a little disgusted by her sudden appearance.

“Knight-mastons,” another answered gravely. “Come, child. The Aldermaston will speak with you.”

“I am on urgent business,” Lia answered, approaching them cautiously.

“We will not delay you long,” replied the third.

Lia felt a shiver of apprehension. She followed the three mastons to the exterior door where there were several porters on duty holding lanterns. There was a strange smell in the air, the odor of incense. The floor tiles had been scrubbed and waxed until they shone like glass.

“Bring her to the Aldermaston straightaway,” one of the mastons said. “She is from Muirwood.”

The porter nodded and started down the path away from the huge Abbey. Lia followed, suspicious, but the porter did not deviate from his path and brought her immediately to a large and spacious manor, festooned with flags surrounded with gardens sculpted into the maston symbol of two offset squares. Every shrub had been painstakingly cut and molded, creating intricate shapes and hedgerows. The air carried the strong scent of a fishpond, through she could not see it through the blackness. Even at night, there were gardeners at work, pruning and tending and cleaning the grounds. Some glanced up at her as she passed, but most focused on their duties. The porter escorted her to the doors of the manor house, which were guarded by servants holding long polished black staves. The doors were opened for them as they ascended the steps and Lia entered the voluminous main corridor.