The Blight of Muirwood

by Jeff Wheeler

  “Are you questioning me?” he asked, his eyebrows arching. A look of anger kindled on his face.

  “Yes,” Lia replied, moving around the other side of him to force him to twist his neck to see her. She was closer to Ellowyn now. “Your purpose for coming to the cloister? Other than to annoy the learners?”

  He looked at her. “How old are you?”

  Courage began to seep back into her bones at meeting his challenging tone. “If you will not submit to my questions, then I will not submit to yours but kindly insist that you leave. If you have no reason to be here, that is.”

  He paused, staring at her so keenly it was unnerving. But she steeled herself and met his gaze as she had always done with the Aldermaston.

  “How much would it cost me to purchase your loyalty?” he asked in a low voice. “Such a maiden as you is worth fifty squires. Maybe a hundred. I know you are a wretched, that you owe a debt of service. But I would gladly take you into my service when your debt is done.”

  For a moment, Lia was startled, but she did not let it show. She knew his measure. “If you have no business here, then kindly follow me to the door so the porter can let you out.”

  “You are not to be distracted, are you?” he said, grinning.

  “I am a hunter,” she replied simply, cocking her head and raising her eyebrow.

  “Very well. I will state my purpose before you embarrass me in front of the learners by tossing me out on my ear.” He wagged his finger at her. “Do not deny that would tempt you. My purpose then, is to persuade these young women both to leave Muirwood.”

  “Persuade us?” Marciana said, her voice brim with loathing and antipathy. “Or abduct us?”

  “As much as I would enjoy trussing you up like a piglet, Ciana, my purpose is as I stated it to be. I have given you my purpose, hunter, so sheath those glaring eyes and let me further my cause by asking several questions of great importance.” He turned his gaze on Ellowyn. “Your uncle – Demont. Does he intend you to wed the young king?”

  Ellowyn’s eyes bulged and her mouth widened with shock. Lia covered her face and sighed.

  “Try, lass, to control your face. That will never do at court. It will not do at all. Given your blatant surprise, I gather the answer is no. Is he going to hand you over to the Pry-rians then? Those dogs who are baying after you like table scraps?”

  Lia’s blood flared hot when he called them dogs, but she did not let it show on her face.

  “My…my uncle…”

  Marciana squeezed her arm. “You do not have to tell him anything, dearest. He is prodding in the dark.”

  “I swear I just may shame you with another kiss, no matter how sharp your teeth are,” he said with a growl. “Has your brother been practicing his swordsmanship much these days? A good fight would make the most of such tedious weather. This is an Abbey after all. I am sure they could spare an ossuary for his bones.”

  “You will not provoke me, Dieyre,” she replied, obviously struggling but succeeding to maintain her composure. “Why do you care to know Demont’s plans? Ask him yourself!”

  “I have, but he is midstream in a river, stuck in a tidepool and is getting spun about so quickly he cannot see his course any longer.” He looked at Ellowyn. “If you were wise, you would set your sights on the young king.”

  “They are cousins,” Marciana reminded him.

  He snorted. “How many of us are not in some way or another? A decree from Avinion can be easily obtained with enough coin. Think on it, Ellowyn. You are heir to the kingdom of Pry-Ree. A princess by birth by right of your father. The young king is titular sovereign of Pry-Ree – named its Protector as an infant. Idumea’s hand, he was born in Pry-Ree too! You would be a fool if you did not consider it. It would expand his borders and your influence. That is why you should not be here, nor Billerbeck, nor any of the many fine Abbeys in this realm. The sons and daughters of kings study at Dochte Abbey in Dahomey. It does not matter what realm you are from. Your mother could not study there, for she was a traitor’s daughter, but her mother – your grandmother – did study there because she was a king’s daughter. And so are you, Ellowyn. That is where Demont will send the young king to study, if Pareigis gets her way. And she always does. He does not deserve to be strapped to Demont’s side, obeying his whims. Let him be a king!”

  Marciana’s eyes were veiled. “She is the Queen Dowager, not the king’s mother. She has no say over his destiny.”

  Dieyre smirked. “She will get her way. I promise you that. I have said what I came here to say. Just do not linger at Muirwood. Either of you.”

  “Why?” Marciana asked, her voice betraying a hint of desperation. Lia swallowed.

  “I would tell you, but the Aldermaston’s hunter is standing too near.” He pitched his voice lower, his voice full of intrigue. “Come see me in my room tonight and I will tell you. I will leave the door unlocked for you.”

  “You need not bother, for I will not come.”

  “You almost sound sure, Ciana.”

  “I am sure, Dieyre. Go back to your mistress.”

  “There are so many, which do you refer to?” he asked, smiling broadly. Then rising languidly, he looked at Lia. “Would you escort me to the porter door then? It is warmer out in the storm than in here.” He gave a gallant bow to Marciana and Ellowyn and then marched back to the door. Lia rang the bell and Guerney arrived and unlocked it.

  The rain fell in heavy sheets. The fountain basin was nearly overflowing, the surface pock-marked as the raindrops shuddered into it.

  Guerney started shuffling back to the porter door, but Dieyre siezed Lia’s arm and stopped her.

  “A warning for you as well,” he said in a low voice. “Pareigis has brought a kishion as part of her retinue.”

  “A what?” Lia asked.

  He lowered his head, smirking in disgust. “A kishion. Ask the Aldermaston what one is. Be on your guard. He is on the grounds. I have seen him already. He will be left behind when we leave.”

  With that, he caught up with Guerney without giving her a second glance. She stood still, folding her arms, and tried not to shiver.

  * * *

  The Aldermaston’s kitchen was warm and smelled heavenly of soup and baked bread. The guests had been served and all were drinking cider back in the manor, except for Colvin, Marciana, Edmon, and Ellowyn – who lingered with Lia and Pasqua in the kitchen. The other two girls were serving the guests their meal. Lia took another nibble of cheese, pondering the strange tidings she had learned that day. Marciana was pacing, deep inside her thoughts, glancing occasionally at her brother. Lia rose from the bench and joined her.

  “I know what you are thinking,” Lia said in a soft voice. She noticed Colvin at the other table, next to Ellowyn, was observing them.

  “I am brooding.” Marciana said with a sigh.

  “Let me see if I can arrange the hints. You did not touch your meal. You have not told Colvin about your run-in with his enemy and you keep looking at the door as if you expect Dieyre to arrive any moment.”

  Marciana smiled softly. “You are good hunter, Lia. The Aldermaston was wise in choosing you.”

  Lia shrugged. “You are wondering if you should see him tonight. To pry into his secrets.”

  Marciana stared at the floor, her face darkening. “You do see through me.”

  “You are not worried about yourself. You worry about your brother. If you can gain information that will help him, you would do it. But that means putting yourself in danger. You should not go. Colvin would not want that.”

  “He would be furious if he knew what Dieyre said.”

  “Which is why he said it,” Lia pointed out.

  “What do you mean?”

  Lia stopped and shook her head in puzzlement. “It is as if he uses the Medium somehow, but in a twisted kind of way. I did not recognize it at first when I met him at the laundry, but he is strong with the Medium. Not in the way you were taught.”

  Marciana’s eyes w
idened. “Do you think he has a kystrel?”

  Shaking her head, Lia replied with a frown, “No. When someone uses one, their eyes glow silver. What I meant by the Medium is he pushes his thoughts at you. He says things to provoke you deliberately, as if he is planting seeds he hopes will sprout. Colvin taught me so much about the Medium, about how it was passed on to him by the Aldermaston of Billerbeck. Dieyre is using the same principles, but towards selfish ends. That is why he asked you to come tonight. He planted a thought in your mind which will fester and fester until you pluck it out or until you act on it.” She squeezed Marciana’s arm. “It happened to me when Colvin was hiding. The sheriff put thoughts in my head to influence what I did. He hinted that I was a Demont, that he knew who my father was. He told me what I most wanted to hear, not what was true. Dieyre is doing to same to you. Do not trust him.”

  Marciana stared at Lia for a moment, pondering. Lia could tell she was wrestling with it. “You are right, Lia. He is using the Medium that way. He has always been a very selfish man. He can be so charming when he wants to be, or angry when thwarted or petty and jealous. He had no desire to become a maston. He mocked the very ideal from the first moment he arrived. He never wanted to become one, and I will only marry a maston. There was a time when I believed…that Dieyre loved me. His attentions are flattering. At first I did not heed Colvin’s warning. But Colvin was right. And so are you. You are much alike. You have a way of seeing things clearly.”

  Lia blushed, glancing over at her brother, who was scrutinizing them with such an intense look that she winked at him for prying on their conversation with his attention.

  “Do you really think he wants Ellowyn to marry the young king?” Marciana asked her.

  “I do not pretend to understand his motives, other than that he accomplished his desire. He is trying to convince Ellowyn to grasp at that possibility, whether or not it is possible. And he gave you the impression that Muirwood is not safe and that you would be safer in Dahomey, the Queen Dowager’s country. I doubt that for some reason.”

  “Well, he was not lying that it is a famous Abbey. Dochte is the Muirwood of Dahomey. The princes and princesses of every realm study there. It is a high honor to be invited. It is said that it was founded by Idumeans, that the Leerings left behind can do magnificent things.”

  Lia was curious. “Like what?”

  “You would have to ask Colvin. He is the one who told me. I am not sure I even believe it.”

  “Give me an example,” Lia pressed.

  “What he said was that king-mastons who study there become so powerful with the Medium that they…that they can command in Idumea’s name and that trees obey them. They can bring fruit out of season, for example. Or the mountains obey them or even the sea. Such power…”

  Her words brought thoughts to Lia’s mind, thoughts so dazzling she could barely understand it. It had happened to her before as Colvin explained the Medium’s power. Ideas and thoughts so huge and full of possibilities that her mind quivered with their weight.

  Marciana continued, “There have not been many king-mastons in our generation. Most never finish the training because of the responsibilities of state. The regents they leave behind to rule tend to be selfish and disinclined to relinquish power. Long ago, the kingdoms helped each other. Now, they squabble over territory, over privileges and honors, over coin and trading agreements.”

  “I have one more question for you, Marciana. Perhaps you can help me answer it. What is a kishion? Do you know that name?”

  She knew at once that Marciana was familiar with the word. She scowled, her face losing its shine and sparkle. “They are dangerous, Lia. A kishion is a hired killer. A man who murders for coin and guards the secret. They are the opposite of mastons in every possible way. Thank Idumea their kind are not allowed in this realm.”

  “Thank you,” Lia answered, gazing at the door with a spasm of worry. “I need to see the Aldermaston.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

  Xenoglossia

  The Aldermaston eased into the chair, wincing as he sat. A stifled breath of pain hissed from his lips, but he straightened himself and then motioned for Prestwich, who looked at him in alarm. “Leave us, but wait outside. I do not want us to be disturbed again. Thank you, my friend.”

  “Is it still troubling you?” Prestwich asked softly, his brows agitated.

  “More so at night. Do not worry. All will be well in the morning. Thank you.”

  The snow-haired steward did not look convinced, but he obeyed the Aldermaston and gently shut the door. A pent-up breath passed in the hush of the evening. Only the desk lamp offered light. Lia nestled at the window seat, where Martin usually did, and watched the Aldermaston’s face, so tired and in obvious pain.

  “I am sorry to add to your burdens,” Lia whispered.

  “You did as you should. Thank you, Lia.” He looked at her solemnly. “You do not realize how much I rely on you. Or how much I trust you. Let me see if I can arrange the facts as I understand them. If I miss any, do correct me. The Queen Dowager seeks to lay blame for her husband’s death on Muirwood and specifically, myself.”

  Lia’s blood sizzled with anger. “How can she accuse you when it was I?”

  The Aldermaston held up his hand. “Let us understand the facts before we discern motives. She arrived at Muirwood earlier than her message indicated. She departs on the morrow for Winterrowd with her retinue but claims she will return to celebrate Whitsunday which is next week. Martin has not returned. You tracked Scarseth to the Tor where you were ambushed by riders, likely part of the Queen Dowager’s retinue. Those riders are probably still in the woods searching for Martin or perhaps waiting for you to wander out. It is clear they had a description of my hunter before they arrived. The Earl of Dieyre travels with the Queen Dowager and offers a warning to Ellowyn Demont to leave Muirwood, hinting that it is dangerous to be here. He discloses to you that a kishion is part of the retinue, and you have rightly learned that they are hired killers.” He stared at his desk. “Did I neglect anything?”

  Lia leapt out of the window seat. “How can you sit there so calmly?” She started pacing. “My head is so full! I do not know what to think or what we should do with so many threats. I am at a loss, Aldermaston. Should I take Ellowyn now and flee in the storm? Is there a safe haven that would welcome her?”

  He shook his head and gently held up one hand in a calming gesture. “The time is soon, Lia. But not yet. It is brooding with me right now. My feelings tell me we should wait.”

  “Wait for what?”

  “What indeed? For the right moment to act. The Medium will tell us when that is.”

  Lia folded her arms. “The way the Earl of Dieyre said it, it makes me fear that Muirwood will be destroyed.” Just the thought made her furious. It was her Abbey, her home.

  He smiled sardonically. “Which is why he said it, Lia. Do not trust him, as I warned you not to trust Almaguer. He told you about the kishion precisely because he wanted to put you on your guard. To make you worry. It is his purpose for being here.”

  “Should I not worry, Aldermaston?” Lia said, pacing again. “Who am I against the best swordsman in the realm? Against a kishion? I am barely fifteen.”

  “You are who you have always been. I told you that yesterday. In this Abbey, you are the strongest in the Medium. You have powers of influence, powers of insight and wisdom, and protection that your enemies do not have. You are under my protection as well as the protection of the Abbey. And not just this one, but every Abbey in the realm who stays true to the oaths and covenants that are made here. The Blight has not struck us yet. So remember, child, that there are more with us than with them. Even hosts you cannot see.”

  “If anything were to happen to the Abbey…to you…” Lia muttered, feeling a surge of protectiveness.

  His eyes crinkled. “My fate rests with the Medium’s will, Lia. Not a kishion’s. Not even the Queen Dowager’s, though she would believe otherwise. And so does
yours. Remember that. Always remember that.”

  “What would you have me do?” she asked, looking at him with respect. He had always been so stern. Rarely had she heard such softness in his voice.

  “Prepare ourselves to act as the Medium will soon direct us at the right moment. But it would help us to be wise. The rain will delay the Queen Dowager’s departure until later in the day. Many of her servants only speak Dahomeyjan, so they converse with each other in that language, which is foreign to our helpers. Let us change that.”

  Lia stepped closer. “How?”

  “Come here, child. Kneel before me so I do not have to stand. I intend to Gift you.”

  A thrill went through her heart. Eagerly, she approached and knelt before him. She could feel the power of the Medium radiating from him. His eyes, though red with fatigue, were strong and choked with emotion. She bowed her head and closed her eyes so he could make the maston sign without her seeing. His heavy hand pressed against her head and a shiver went through her skin.

  “Lia Cook,” he said in his deep, raspy voice. “By Idumea’s hand, I gift you to hear and understand languages. I gift you with the ability to speak in any foreign tongue. To be understood and to speak freely. I give unto you the Gift of xenoglossia. May it serve you well in your purpose in life. I also gift you peace and protection that you will live to fulfill the Medium’s will.”

  As he spoke, the Medium surged within her. She felt it singing in her blood, filling every nook within her. Tears stung her eyes at its familiar, tender presence. The peace of Muirwood descended on her. He finished the benediction and lifted his hand.

  Gratefully, she stood and looked at him, feeling a sharp pang in her heart. “Thank you, Aldermaston. I have a feeling that…we will be parted soon.”

  He smiled. “I feel it as well. Long have I been preparing you for that moment.” His voice thickened with repressed emotions. Glancing down, he coughed to clear his throat. “I pray you will forgive me, but I nearly refused another attempt to purchase your freedom. That was selfish of me. I should give you the opportunity to choose for yourself, and so I have.”