by Jeff Wheeler
Someone had seen her. She heard the cautious footsteps approaching.
“Lia? Is it…is it you?”
She turned and saw Duerden, clutching a cider cup. He gaped at her, his eyes wild with astonishment. He looked older. Worse, he looked a stranger to her. There was something more serious in his eyes, an expression of a much older man and not a boy her own age. As she looked at his face, she saw it clearly through the Gift of Seering. He was infected with the plague.
“Oh, Duerden,” she murmured with a throb in her voice. “What have you done?”
“It is you!” he said, his voice plaintive yet his expression was wracked with guilt and confusion. “But look at you. Where is…Lia…the baby? Where is the baby?”
She saw it on his face with her hunter’s gaze. There was a dab of rouge on the corner of his mouth where a woman had kissed him.
“You wanted to become a maston,” Lia said, her heart breaking. “Instead, you helped destroy them. What are you talking about, Duerden? What baby?”
His face twitched with spasms, his voice choking with emotion. “You were sent away to another Abbey. To keep it secret! You were with child. The Aldermaston’s child – the baby. The child. You…you were with child. What…but…were you not with child, Lia? Like Reome?” His eyes were desperate and helpless. The cup dropped from his hand.
“No, Duerden,” she said, shaking her head violently. “That is a lie! You were deceived by the Queen Dowager. Duerden, do you not understand? The Aldermaston was murdered. He was not a traitor. It was not an execution. He was murdered. Demont was murdered!”
Duerden shook his head in a daze. “No, he fell sick. He was poisoned by Pasqua.”
“No, Duerden! He was murdered. All of the mastons have been murdered. The Abbeys are no more. When, Duerden?” She gave him a fierce look. “When did you begin listening to the Queen Dowager? You are hers. I can smell her on your clothes. Her stain is in your blood as well. When, Duerden? When did it happen to you?”
His expression was haunted, his voice quavering. “Before…Whitsunday. She spoke to me while I was walking in the gardens. She…oh, Lia, what have I done! She was so friendly to me. She did not tease me. She…Lia…she…what have I done!”
“You are infected,” Lia said, shaking her head. “The Blight. You are infected with it. She kissed you. She kissed you again tonight.” Lia’s heart broke with pain. “You cannot leave these shores. You will die, like everyone else. I am so sorry, Duerden. You will be sick. You will be very sick, very soon. Leave Muirwood while you can. A storm is coming. If you stay here, you will die tonight. Go as far away as you can, but you can never return. Go!”
Duerden began to sob like a child, overwhelmed by his despair. He was devastated. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Go!”
Lia felt the Myriad Ones surround her. Their mewling sounds and hisses filled her senses with loathing and animosity and pure hatred. They were drawn to her, wheedling at her mind with their thoughts. She turned around slowly and there was Pareigis, the Queen Dowager, in a gown as dark at the night, the silver fringe glittering. Her eyes glowed silver and the wind rustled her hair. Her fingers were curled like talons.
“He is not yours to command,” Pareigis said with an imperious voice. “You spurned him, girl. Remember? A broken heart is easily seduced.”
Lia grit her teeth but did not back away. “I broke your hold over Seth. I will break your hold over him. I do not fear you. I know who you really are.”
A gust of wind swept across the grass, bringing the scent of fire mixed with flowers. Pareigis’ hair whipped across her face. Pressure began to build in the air. Lia felt it inside her ears.
“It is your pity that you do not fear me,” Pareigis said. “You have been troublesome to me. That trouble will end tonight. You are the last maston. I have saved you for last.”
The wind began to whip more violently.
“You summon a storm?” Pareigis said with delight. “I am the Queen of storms. Water is my dominion.”
“You have no dominion,” Lia said. “You only steal. Nothing is truly yours. I know your power. I do not fear it. You cannot harm me.”
Pareigis’ eyes flashed with murder. “Harm you? I will kill you, little one. You also will be trapped on this pitiful earth. The mastons who fell before you were fortunate because they could return to Idumea. But not you. This is your reward, foolish child. This is what the Medium bestows on you for your faithfulness.” She spat the word. “Misery. That is your reward. I give you misery for bread and suffering for cider.”
In the distance, there was thunder.
Lia stared at Pareigis, unconcerned. “You will go. Depart from Muirwood and never return.” She took a step towards her.
“You cannot command me!” Pareigis shrieked in fury. “I command the oceans and the waves and they obey me. The winds come at my calling. Fire burns at my will. You cannot command me!”
“By the Medium, I command you to leave,” Lia said, holding up her hand in the maston sign.
Lightning lashed in the sky. The wind began to keen and howl like wolves. Lia’s hair was also whipped about her face. Her clothes thrashed with the fury of the gale. She took another step closer.
Pareigis’s raven hair spun wildly around her. She was hunched, as if under a huge weight. “This is my world. You are my daughter. I have destroyed all of the mastons and I will destroy you! Do you think you can defy an army led by the Dochte Mandar? I allowed this Abbey’s defenses to destroy my army. It was part of my plan to ruin you. This is my dominion!”
Lia took another step. The air felt like it would burn. “You have taken everything from me. My true family. My real home. The one I love. There is nothing else you can take from me. I surrender all that I am and all that I have to the Medium’s will. I speak your true name. You are Ereshkigal, the Unborn. You will depart.”
“No! You cannot command me! You are a child! Nothing but a child!”
The sky lit up with jagged shards of lightning. The trees swayed wildly. Plump drops of rain began to splatter against the walls and against Lia’s face.
“You are Ereshkigal, the Unborn. You will depart.”
The look in Pareigis’ eyes was wild with frustration and fury. She screamed then, a sound so loud and startling and unearthly that it made Lia shrink inside. The scream grew louder and louder, drowning out the booms of thunder. Pareigis’ fingers, hooked into claws, swept forward as she rushed to rake Lia with them.
Lia grabbed her wrists, holding her back with all her strength as the storm cracked open and torrents of rain began to dash from the skies. Lia clenched Pareigis’ wrists tightly, digging her heels into the ground to help her balance.
“You are Ereshkigal, the Unborn!” Lia shouted. “You will depart!”
It was as if all the strength gushed out of Pareigis’ body. Lia found herself holding the frail girl up by her wrists as she sagged and collapsed. Lightning seared the air, revealing onlooking Dahomeyjan knights who stared at Lia and the Queen Dowager with awe and terror.
On her knees in front of Lia, the Queen Dowager’s eyes fluttered open.
“Where am I?” she whispered, her voice a tiny frail wheeze. She spoke in Dahomeyjan. “What Abbey is this that burns?” she said, gazing at the fires raging within Muirwood. The rain began to quench the flames.
The Queen Dowager’s hair was soon drenched with rain and she stared up at Lia in confusion and terror. “What land is this?”
Lia helped her to stand. “This is a foreign land. You must return to your country. You are sick, my lady. You will make others sick if you kiss them.” She stared into her eyes. “Please, do not make others sick.”
Pareigis blinked with the rain, confused.
“Duerden,” Lia said, turning around. He was on the ground, huddled against the downpour. “Help her to get away. Take her far away. The storm will get worse until she is gone. Go or it will kill you both.”
He nodded mutely and came forward, helpi
ng Pareigis to stand. He supported her and guided her in the rain towards the broken outer gates.
Chunks of ice began to thud against the grass and trees. Lia knew the storm was still building its strength. It was far from spent. It would be the greatest storm that Muirwood had ever known. And somehow, in her heart, she knew that it would last for three days and three nights.
Hugging herself and her dripping clothes, Lia walked slowly to the Aldermaston’s kitchen seeking shelter.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX:
The Battle of Forshee
The penultimate force of the storm did not strike Muirwood until just before dawn. The noise came as the sound of a rushing wind so mighty it was as if ten thousand wagons were hurtling by at the same moment. Lia watched from the windows of the loft, but could see nothing but raindrops and ice lashing against the panes. The wind was a ghostly sound, shrieking and roaring. Hunkering within the kitchen, Lia felt no fear. She knew the Medium would protect her. But even still, she clutched her childhood blanket and listened to the chaos and havoc whipping and whirling outside.
When dawn arrived, the storm had abated somewhat, but the light revealed the damage. Lia stared in shock.
All that remained of Muirwood Abbey were trusses and struts, tall lonely chunks of stone that had once formed the mighty walls.
“It is gone,” she said to herself, amazed at the devastation. What sort of wind had come which would hurl away stone?
After pulling on a cloak, Lia wandered out in the rain and stared in astonishment at the skeletal remains of the Abbey. A few segments of wall still stood, but they were like broken clay fragments giving only the shade of resemblance to the original.
In the midst of the Abbey, a gaping hole exposed the dungeon room where the maston rights were instructed. Oddly, the benches and altar were still there. It was now open to be seen and even the stairwell leading there was still intact. It was while Lia wandered the wet grounds around it that she saw the floor stone raise up and curious heads began to poke out. Kieran Ven and the others emerged from the tunnels below ground. Lia watched their faces as they emerged into open air where once an Abbey had stood.
* * *
The traveling supplies had been gathered. Sacks and blankets, sturdy boots and thick cloaks adorned everyone, even the little children. Pasqua had tears in her eyes as she tried to determine which of the five ladles she would bring to Pry-Ree and then beyond. Lia bit her lip and hugged Pasqua tenderly, helping her to choose her favorite.
The door of the kitchen opened and Kieran strode in, spraying beads of water. He reminded her of Jon Hunter with his unshaven face and unruly hair. He wore a gladius at his side. “It is the third day. The storm has broken, just as you said it would.” He gazed at Lia and then reached for Marciana’s hand. Their fingers entangled. That had been a surprise to Lia upon hearing of the news. The two had been married by irrevocare sigil by the Aldermaston days before the fall of Muirwood. Marciana had passed the maston test. Sowe clung to Edmon’s arm and stared at Lia with worried eyes.
Kieran glanced at those assembled. “We must go.”
Marciana looked hard at Lia. “I wish you could come with us.” Her voice caught. “But since you must stay, as Maderos bid you, you may hear what became of my brother. I still hold him in my thoughts. I have not given up hope.”
Lia experienced the deep ache of pain that happened whenever she thought of Colvin. “It was not my choice to stay behind. But it is certainly my duty. There may be others seeking to escape the Blight when they realize what form it has taken. I will send them to Tintern, after you. Unless they are infected – I will not send on any who may bring the sickness among you.”
Sowe came and gave Lia a hug. “Will you be safe here? All alone?”
Lia smiled and wiped her eyes. “If that wind did not kill me, I doubt loneliness will. This kitchen has always been my home. It brings me comfort knowing that it still stands. Please take good care of my sister,” she said to Edmon, giving him a hug farewell. “Make her laugh. Every day.”
A crooked smile contorted his mouth. “I will. If we by chance have any daughters, we will name the first after you. That way, we can be assured of a mischievous child!”
Lia laughed through her tears, hugging them both again. It was painful, saying goodbye. But the roles had changed, for it was her family that was leaving her behind. Pasqua was next and then Prestwich, who was holding one of Siler’s children by the hand. A kiss to each, a firm hug.
Reome lingered in the back, uncertain about what to do. She had transformed since they had last seen each other. The haugtiness was gone. The swell of the babe was visible, but still just barely. Lia approached her and took her hands.
“I was always a little afraid of you,” Lia said softly.
“Were you?” Reome asked, looking baffled. “I am sorry, Lia. I am sorry for all of the dreadful things I said and did to you. Teasing you and mocking you.” Her eyes squinted thoughtfully. “I suffered greatly from my guilt and shame until I spoke with the Aldermaston. We really spoke, Lia, as I am sure you often did with him. He was so gentle and kind to me. He helped me see that punishing myself accomplished nothing. He taught me to be grateful for what I have instead of what I lost or never had.” There were tears in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “If I have a boy, I will name him Gideon.” She bit her lip. “I will never forget what you did for me, Lia Hunter. May the Medium comfort you and keep you. I believe in it now as I have never believed anything in my life. You gave me the first spark of it.” She squeezed Lia’s hands and then gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Bless you, sister.”
Lia’s heart shuddered with emotion and she clenched Reome tightly, amazed at her surging feelings. The two had never shared a hug in their entire lives together at Muirwood. It truly was the end of all things.
As they left the kitchen into the chilled morning air, Marciana and Kieran halted while the rest gathered outside.
“Do you think Pen-Ilyn will still be by the shore?” Marciana asked. “With his boat to ferry us across to Pry-Ree?”
Lia pursed her lips. “I believe…someone will be waiting for you. The Medium responds to our needs. I cannot see who, but I sense it. Someone will take you to the ships.”
Marciana swallowed. “Do you think…that Colvin…? Do you have any sense, Lia?”
She frowned. “I cannot see his future. Any more than I can see mine or yours. There is nothing but fog, like the mists that often settle over these grounds. My Gift only works when I benefit others, not myself.”
“But in your heart,” she pressed in a low voice, her eyes desperate for assurance. “You said Hillel…that she was a hetaera. Do you think he resisted her?”
Lia’s heart twisted with pain. “I do not know. I cannot think on it without getting ill. They were to be married at Billerbeck. He believes I am dead. I had hoped to find him here at Muirwood.” She clenched her jaw and stifled her feelings. “We can hope, Ciana. That is all that we can do for him now.”
Tears trickled down Marciana’s cheeks. She nodded and Kieran put his arm around her shoulder, hugging her. She leaned against him, trying to master her feelings.
“Goodbye, Lia,” she whispered. “Would we were sisters. Thank you for saving me from Dieyre. Thank you for saving me from what you suffered at Dochte Abbey.” She put her hand on Lia’s arm. “I would not have been as strong as you.”
They hugged each other one last time and then Lia watched the group begin the slow walk towards the ring of oaks surrounding the grounds and then towards the Bearden Muir. The lake that had surrounded the Abbey had long since receded. The Abbey defenses were broken.
As she watched them go, she turned her gaze to the Tor and the dark duty that awaited her there.
* * *
As Lia climbed the Tor, her heart grew more and more heavy as she neared the charred stumps of the twin maypoles at the peak. Her stomach clenched with agony at seeing the blackened shells, the stick-like figures still chained there. The
last time she had climbed the Tor, she was with Colvin on a stormy day hunting Seth’s footprints with the Cruciger orb. The wind whipped about her, moaning softly against her ears.
The evidence of death lay ahead of her, but the memories of hearing what had happened tortured her soul.
She had woven together the threads of story in strands from everyone in the kitchen while the storm had raged over the Hundred. Marciana and Kieran had been escorted from Comoros but ambushed. Since Lia had Gifted him, his recovery had been startlingly dramatic. As Dieyre’s men attacked and began killing the knights who escsorted them, he had fended the attackers off, killing them all and stealing their tunics and horses to disguise their movements as they rode back to Muirwood. Upon reaching the Abbey, they had hidden as wretcheds, wearing simple clothes and helping with simple tasks to aid in their disguise. Edmon had finally summoned the courage to face the maston test and when he learned it was more about oaths and promises than knowledge learned from tomes, he had encouraged Sowe to face it as well. It was Marciana’s wish that she be adopted into her Family when she learned of Colvin’s promise. The Aldermaston permitted it, knowing they were approaching the end of his authority at the Abbey.
The day after they had passed it, the Aldermaston of Augustin arrived, claiming to be the new Aldermaston. He presented his charge and then summarily dismissed Demont and his mastons from the Abbey under his new authority. With the new Aldermaston against him, Demont had left and they had heard he was murdered by poison as he journeyed to Comoros to take control of the city and prepare for an invasion.
With a new Aldermaston, the Queen Dowager was finally released from her captivity and she summoned her vassals to Muirwood to bring her safely away. But the entourage did not leave immediately as they had promised. Each day brought another delay. Her power and influence continued to grow, much to the surprise of the new Aldermaston who found her to be intractable and unwilling to simply walk away. He also began to discover that the wealth he had suspected to exist at Muirwood was as elusive as the wind. There was no treasury, no hoarded funds supporting Demont’s army. He realized at the end that he had given up a wealthier Abbey for a lesser one.
