The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3) (33 page)

Maia tried to listen patiently, but she could sense the news would be terrible. “Go on.”

“Just before the Hautlander ships arrived, a ship from Dahomey came.” Maia’s heart flinched, and she tried to keep her expression guarded. “Secret visitors entered Lady Shilton’s manor. One was a man, a Dochte Mandar. He bore a Dahomeyjan name . . . Corriveaux . . . and he seemed to know Lady Shilton.” Maeg swallowed, fidgeting more. “There were other men with him . . . dangerous men. Men that made me shudder. They guarded the house, and no one was allowed in or out during his visit. They gave something to Lady Murer. At first I thought it was just a necklace . . . but Maia, it was a
kystrel
.” Fear flashed in her eyes. “I watched her summon its power. Her eyes glowed silver. I have never been so frightened.”

“By Idumea,” Maia whispered in horror.

Corriveaux had taken from her the kystrel that Chancellor Walraven had given her. It was full of Maia’s memories and fears and emotions. She knew, without being told, that this was the same kystrel he had given to Murer.

“That was before they took Lady Murer,” Maeg added.

“What? They took her?”

Maeg’s fidgeting worsened. “I know where they went. Lady Murer . . . you should have heard her boast of it. As soon as she put on the kystrel, she changed. She had been miserable since losing her position. She would mourn and then rage about it often. Once she had the kystrel, she became imbued with power. She wants revenge against you and anyone close to you.” Maeg gave Maia an imploring look and took her hand. “Murer went
north
. She is going to destroy Dodd’s army and burn Billerbeck Abbey. And she plans to ruin your relationship . . . with the King of Dahomey. She left two days ago. I tried to escape, but the house has been guarded until today. Corriveaux returned this morning, alone, and took the others with him and fled the city. I cannot go back there, Maia. They will know I betrayed them. They will kill me.”

Maia stared into the other girl’s eyes, into the well of conviction and despair she saw there, and then looked over at Jon Tayt. “Your strongest army is in the north,” he said, his own gaze full of wrath. “He will hold his own, by Cheshu. He better.”

But Maia could not bear to tell him what she knew about the powers of a kystrel. And if Murer’s goal was to travel to Dahomey, it meant only one thing.

Her stepsister Murer was turning into a hetaera.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Burning

I
t was nearing midnight when Lady Shilton and her household arrived at the palace under guard. Maia was weary, but she dared not sleep. Guards roamed the corridors and the city was restive and uneasy. Some families had abandoned their homes during the day, and more were beginning to trickle out.

Maia waited impatiently in the solar with Jon Tayt as her silent companion. It was the room where she had met her father the night he had sent her to seek the lost abbey. It was full of memories. She was heartsick from the knowledge that her impulsive, selfish stepsister was on the loose . . . and that she was likely wearing Maia’s former kystrel. The power the kystrel contained was enormous, and she had no doubt that Murer would not exercise the restraint Chancellor Walraven had always encouraged in her. After Maeg left, Maia had shared her news with Suzenne. The look on her friend’s face would haunt her nights for weeks to come. Suzenne trusted Dodd’s integrity, but she did not trust him completely against the power of a kystrel wielded by a jealous woman. While Lady Shilton had never implied Dodd would be a target for revenge, Maia and Suzenne knew the ways of the hetaera. With a face chalk white with dread, Suzenne had begged to go to Claredon Abbey to travel by Apse Veil to Billerbeck to warn Dodd about the invasion. She had left hours before, and there was still no sign of her.

The guards at the door announced the arrival of Lady Shilton. Richard had already interrogated her in his tower, and he accompanied her now. The woman looked frightened, her nerves frayed. Dark smudges marked the flesh under her eyes, and there was a guilty look about her.

Maia’s mind swarmed with memories of the hostility and abuse she had received from this woman. It nearly overwhelmed her, and she could not keep a disapproving frown from her mouth. She reined in her feelings, knowing that the dark memories would only foster more ill will between them. Instead, she forced herself to remember the night Lady Shilton had at last showed her compassion by giving her a new gown and trying to help ease her pain. Of course, Maia had been poisoned that same night, but she had survived that ordeal. She reminded herself that this woman’s daughter had been executed. The fall from grace must have been painful.

“Your Maj . . . esty summoned me,” Lady Shilton said in a tremulous voice.

Maia had been fidgeting all night and could not bear to sit down. Anxious to keep herself moving so fatigue would not drag her down, she approached her one-time jailer. “Lady Shilton,” she said with a nod. The woman looked haunted . . . fearful.

“I wish to plead for a life,” Lady Shilton said, coming forward and dropping to her knees. “You may do what you will with me, but I
beg
you to spare my granddaughter.”

Richard stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. “Before you beg for mercy, Lady Shilton, it would be best if you shared with the queen what you confessed to me this evening.”

Lady Shilton trembled and looked at the hand on her shoulder with abhorrence. She twisted her neck to gaze up at Richard Syon.

It did not escape Maia’s notice that Jon Tayt seemed about ready to spit on the hem of the woman’s dress. He sat by the window seat, holding a mug, and sipped from it slowly. He remained quiet and unobtrusive.

Lady Shilton wrung her hands.

“Please,” Maia said, reaching down and helping the older woman stand. “Sit at the table. Would you like something to drink?” The main table had plenty of empty chairs. Jon Tayt sat by the window overlooking the black night sky.

The woman allowed Maia to help her rise, and she cringed at the compassion being shown to her by the girl she had so mistreated. “Nothing,” she answered, shaking her head curtly. She retreated to the offered chair and sat, tucking some stray wisps of hair behind her ear. Her face was lined from age, but she still tried to maintain the illusion of youth through the fashion of her hair and the rouge on her cheeks.

Maia sat adjacent to her and then took her hand and patted it comfortingly. Richard sat in a chair opposite her and folded his hands on the table before him. He watched her sternly.

Lady Shilton trembled. A few fat tears pooled in her eyes. They quivered and hung on her lashes, and only did not fall because of the great force of her will. “I am guilty,” she whispered hoarsely. “I have always . . . hated you. Because you were so good. I thought you would succumb. Even a dog flinches from its master if it is beaten enough.”

Jon Tayt stifled a grunt, earning a look of misery from Lady Shilton.

“And yet you persisted despite my efforts to humiliate and destroy you. I . . . I am a traitor to Comoros. I deserve to die. But I am still a grandmother, and I love my own family.” She looked down at the table, trying to master the courage to speak. “I was a maston, you know. I studied at Billerbeck, but was not allowed to read. I was always so tempted by the forbidden knowledge. I did everything I could to steal glances at tomes. I was ambitious, so I resented the Aldermaston who prevented me from learning. I knew that the Medium brings you your thoughts. If you want it enough. If you demand it.” She hung her head. “I was a fool.”

Richard cleared his throat. “The hour is late, Lady Shilton. Tell her.”

Maia stared at the older woman curiously, wondering what dreadful secrets were finally releasing from her scabbed heart.

“I began to befriend some of the Dochte Mandar,” Lady Shilton said. “I wanted to know why women were forbidden to read. They toyed with me. Toyed with my emotions, I think. They told me I would be taught if I gave up my child to learn as well. I was married by that time, joined to a man I did not love. Deorwynn was our only child. When she came of age, I was told to send her to Dahomey for her maston training. They promised me that one day she would become queen. I thought perhaps they meant she would be Queen of Dahomey, but I realized later that it was Comoros she was fated to rule. She was taken in by a strong-willed man, a man whom I later realized was a Victus. His name was Corriveaux Tenir. They became lovers. He inspired her with ambition. He corrupted her heart as the Dochte Mandar had corrupted mine. She ruined your father, who was a faithful maston at the time.”

Maia’s heart burned with anger. She thought of Collier and found it difficult to keep the look of fury from her face.

“Your daughter was loyal to the Victus,” Maia said. “That I know. What of Murer?”

“She was to become a hetaera if you failed to
become
,” Lady Shilton said, her voice low. “They were grooming you, you see. There is power gained in suffering, and after a time, I realized the Victus were using my family to shape you and make you strong. I feared what you would do to us when you came to power. But I was too compromised. And you failed to accept the fate they had fashioned for you. That left me with the hope that the Victus would choose my granddaughter to fulfill your destiny. Not just to become Queen of Comoros, but to become
empress
of all the kingdoms. You see, Murer is Corriveaux’s daughter. She is strong willed and subtle, like her father. She is wiser than her own mother, always playing the innocent. In truth, she knew Deorwynn was losing her station, and she did not want to lose her own in the rubble. Murer came to me after your coronation. She has been secretly communing with her father through a Leering in my manor house.” Lady Shilton started to wring her hands again. “He arrived and gave her your kystrel. For a hetaera to achieve her greatest power, she must first betray someone she loves. She was interested in the King of Dahomey and he spurned her. For
you.
Murer will seek your lover in Dahomey, but first she will burn Billerbeck Abbey. That will be the signal for the armada to land in the north and begin the invasion. As you send your troops there to fight, the second wave of ships will strike in the west, in Caspur’s Hundred. Their goal is to trap you in Comoros before you can flee to Muirwood with your people.”

Lady Shilton seized Maia’s wrist, her look desperate. “I have confessed all of this without torture. I deserve to perish and will gladly face the headsman’s axe. I
implore
you to spare my granddaughter. She was corrupted and twisted as a youth. She was never even given the chance to study at an abbey or become a maston. She has not been hardened by suffering as you have. Please spare her life, Your Highness. I beg of you!”

Maia felt the strain on her wrist from the old woman’s fingers. She glanced up at Richard and saw the displeasure rife in his face.

“There is a saying from Ovidius,” Maia said, wresting her hand away from Lady Shilton’s grip. “What is allowed us is disagreeable, what is denied us creates intense desire. You were a maston and you knew you sought a forbidden path.” Maia slowly rose from her chair. “Your daughter was executed because of what she learned from your example. And now your granddaughter seeks to destroy the kingdom—nay, the realm—because of her ambition.” Maia tried to feel compassion, but it had withered away. “What did Corriveaux promise, I wonder? That he would spare the kingdom if you succeeded in killing me?”

Lady Shilton’s tears trickled down her cheeks. She shook her head. “He will not spare Comoros,” she said, grieving. “Only the lives of my Family. Everyone else will be destroyed. Including you.”

“I am sorry for the choices you have made,” Maia said, folding her arms. “But you made them willingly. You knew exactly what you were doing. Richard, have her sent to the dungeon. Her servants must be questioned as well. If any knew and did not tell, they will share her fate.” Maia stared down at the woman, her enemy. The door opened and in walked Suzenne, her face gray with pallor. She looked on the verge of despair.

“Take her away,” Maia whispered.

“Your Majesty, I beg you!” Lady Shilton shrieked.

Maia shook her head. “You could have come to me sooner, Lady Shilton. You could have exposed this threat to my kingdom, and I would have pardoned you. An earlier confession would have saved you, and it would have saved your granddaughter.” She repressed a shudder. “Do you know what Corriveaux has done to
my
grandmother?”

Lady Shilton’s face crumbled. “They have brought her in chains to Naess. She will be executed.”

At that, Maia nodded to Richard to have the woman removed. Lady Shilton began choking down sobs as the guardsmen took her away.

From the expression on Suzenne’s face, Maia feared the worst. She closed the distance and hugged her friend fiercely, smoothing back her golden tresses and feeling her repressed sobs in the movement of her back.

“Billerbeck Abbey has burned,” Suzenne whispered in a quavering voice.