The Blight of Muirwood

by Jeff Wheeler

  She paused, looking at him sternly. “I would never serve the Earl of Dieyre,” she said.

  “No. I would counsel you against that. The Fesit family is coming to celebrate Whitsunday in the hopes of procuring your release so you can marry their son. Apparently you made an impression on them last year at the dance. They will be arriving at week’s end.”

  Lia’s eyes widened with horror. “Duerden?”

  The Aldermaston nodded. “It is your decision, Lia. My only request is that when the time comes, you escort Ellowyn Demont to a safe haven. But I will not forbid your happiness. He is a good young man, will make an excellent maston . You could do much worse than him.”

  “Thank you, Aldermaston,” Lia said, trembling with shock as she left.

  * * *

  Sowe and Bryn were asleep, the door to the kitchen secured tight, so Lia slept on a pallet on the rush-matting in Pasqua’s room, but Pasqua’s snores kept her awake most of the night. Her mind raged with thoughts. Duerden wanted to marry her? They had never discussed such a thing before. He had never intimated that it was his desire. Awake before the dawn, she washed her face with water from a dish, combed some of the tangles out of her wild hair and then joined the commotion of the manor house that struck earlier than usual. The Queen Dowager was not to be deterred by the rain and snapped orders to her servants to make ready. As the sun rose, her retinue had gathered outside the gates in a light drizzle. In a black velvet riding cloak, the Queen Dowager mounted astride a white stallion with leather harness studded with silver stars. She stared at the Abbey, studying it with an expression of loathing. Lia wanted to spook her stallion and make it bolt. She walked amidst the host and servants, all barking to each other in Dahomeyjan.

  “Will the Abbey burn with so much rain?” one muttered savagely, his dark face twisted into a scowl.

  “Hush, you fool,” another snapped, glaring at Lia as she passed.

  “She is a wretched,” the man said with a snort. “She cannot understand.”

  The Earl of Dieyre was not among the riders, so she sought out Prestwich. “Where is Dieyre?” she asked him.

  “Still abed, complaining of a stomach ailment. Siara is attending to him, but he says the cramps will not let him mount. He is all but accusing the Aldermaston of poisoning him.”

  Lia smirked. “It is a pretext. He has another motive and does not wish to ride with the Queen Dowager. Tell the Aldermaston I heard one of them mutter of burning the Abbey.”

  “I should like to see them try,” Prestwich replied grimly, his eyes searing with anger.

  In due order, the retinue exited Muirwood’s gates and rode towards the Tor where Lia imagined they would meet up with the other men and possibly even the kishion. If what Dieyre said was true, he would linger after the retinue left. She wondered what sort of man he was. The bulk of the day she spent roving the grounds, looking for signs of Dieyre or any stragglers from the retinue. She missed the mid-day meal, but came to the kitchen afterwards and was grateful Pasqua had finished frying some crispels on a skillet. They were warm and sweet.

  “Where were you yesterday?” Brynn asked Lia, twirling around. “It was raining so hard, there was nothing else to do but wait inside. Edmon danced with us.”

  Lia raised her eyebrows at them both. “Did he?”

  Brynn was beaming. “He said he wanted to be sure he knew the maypole dance done in this Hundred. He asked Sowe if she would teach him. When she did, he then danced with me and then Pasqua. He is a very good dancer, Lia. He said he wished you were there so he could dance with you as well.”

  “He is a cheeky lad,” Pasqua said, sitting on a stool with a mug of cider. “He danced with us all to cover his intent, but he wanted to dance with Sowe. He is smitten with you, lass. It is as clear as the noonday sun.”

  Sowe went scarlet at the attention, but managed to keep her composure. “He is kind and tells amusing stories. But I think you exaggerate his affection.” She scrubbed her hands on a towel. “Did Duerden find you, Lia?”

  She nearly choked on the crispel. “Was he looking for me?” she stammered.

  “Yes, he came by the kitchen after studies. He looked…guilty. Did he do something wrong?”

  “I suppose it depends,” she replied, her stomach souring. “Did Edmon dance with him as well?”

  Brynn giggled, Pasqua poshed, and Sowe just smiled. “Do you know why Duerden was seeking you out? He has never come asking for you at the kitchen before.”

  “He is a respectful lad, as learners go,” Pasqua said. “I was tempted to drive him off with a broom, but I did not.”

  “I think I know why,” Lia replied, twisting another piece of crispel. She brushed crumbs from her skirt. “The Aldermaston told me that his parents sought to purchase my freedom.”

  Everything went quiet. Sowe and Bryn looked at each other and then at her. Pasqua’s mug was part-way to her mouth and hung frozen.

  “Do you mean…?” Brynn suggested.

  “Lia?” Sowe asked, coming over.

  “The Aldermaston said he wants to marry me,” Lia said, blurting it out.

  It was quiet, awkwardly quiet.

  “Has he asked you?” Sowe asked, sidling up next to her on the bench.

  “No, I have not seen him in several days.” Not since she had shamed him in front of Colvin. The thought made her wince. Had he been working up the courage to ask her then? To tell her his thoughts? She had never considered it.

  Brynn’s face was still contorted with confusion. “But you do not love him, Lia,” she said softly.

  Lia laughed at the absurdity. “I did not say I was going to marry him. Only that I heard he would ask me. His parents sought the Aldermaston’s permission and he gave it.”

  “He…he gave it?” Pasqua demanded, her expression bewildered.

  Sowe and Brynn glanced at each other, their faces betraying them.

  “What is it?” Lia asked, squeezing Sowe’s leg.

  “You cannot marry him,” Brynn insisted.

  “Why?” Lia demanded. Pasqua’s expression was paler than milk.

  “It is secret,” Sowe admitted. “Something Edmon told me.”

  Lia was on her feet, her heart beating faster and faster. It was one thing to be told that Duerden sought her, but the look in Sowe’s eyes was of much greater importance. “What is it? If you know something, say it!”

  Sowe bit her lip. “It was a few nights ago. Pasqua was asleep. Colvin left to escort Marciana and Ellowyn back to their chamber. Edmon said he was not supposed to know, but he had overheard Colvin and Marciana talking about it. That he was going to ask you soon.”

  Lia stared at her hard. “Talking about what?”

  It was Pasqua who finally said it. “Colvin wants to marry you, Lia. It is the reason he and his sister came to Muirwood.”

  * * *

  “A new idea is delicate. It can be killed by a sneer or a yawn; it can be stabbed to death by a quip and worried to death by a frown on the right man's brow.”

  - Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey

  * * *

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

  Intentions

  Lia needed to think, but the wild pounding of her heart made it impossible. Thinking? What was she supposed to think? How could she stop herself from thinking? Fleeing the Aldermaston’s kitchen, she was engulfed by the storm breaking over Muirwood. The wet grass was spongy with mud, but she did not care. She tugged up her hood and walked, trying to fix a destination where she could go and be alone. Away from the manor or the old cemetery grounds, for Colvin might be in either place. Not the laundry, not where Reome would torment her. She needed to sort through her surging feelings, to control her face, her voice. Colvin wanted to marry her? Her? She wanted desperately to believe it, but did not dare summon the hope for fear it would be dashed. He had come to Muirwood to ask her. Colvin Price – the Earl of Forshee. Marry her, a wretched from Muirwood?

  She glanced over her shoulder at the cloisters, knowing Ellowyn was
there struggling to read and hating every moment of it – hating every moment that Lia craved for. To be able to learn. To have her own tome. But not just that. To spend time with Colvin. To be with him, to study with him. To share ideas and interpretations. To share their hearts with each other. The thought of it – the amazement of it was more than she could cope with. Tears stung her eyes. Had he shown by his actions that he cared for her? That he valued her opinions? That he was comforted by her presence?

  Her boot splashed in a muddy puddle and she realized she was walking towards the Cider Orchard. A good place to hide in a rainstorm. To hide beneath the boughs, to think about what she suspected and reason it out so she knew what to do and how to react if he asked her. Rain gushed around her, making her shiver, but not with cold. Her emotions could not be controlled.

  She remembered holding Colvin’s hands in the tunnel. He had not pulled away, had not rejected her as he usually did. She bit her lip, unable to rein in her thoughts. What else could it be? Sowe and Brynn had their account from Edmon, his close friend – close as a brother. There were no words to describe how she felt, how her heart tumbled inside her, bringing quivering feelings of heat and chills at the same time.

  The Cider Orchard loomed in front of her and she slipped inside, moving through the rain and mist to hide herself and calm her emotions. She was soaked and muddy. She did not care. She just needed a moment alone, a moment before she would have to face him. If only her heart would not burst open at the thought. Was there anyone else she cared about more than him? Their shared secrets had forged something wonderful between them.

  She found a sturdy apple tree and fell against its trunk, heaving with the effort of walking so fast. She leaned her head back against the firm wood, pulling off her hood to listen to the rain. Think, Lia. Just think. A wretched could marry into Family. It had happened before, had it not? The Medium was strong enough.

  With her hood down, she realized that someone was calling her name. At first she dreaded it was Duerden, but her heart shuddered in recognition of the voice. It was too soon. How could she face Colvin without crying? Without fainting? It was happening too fast. It was too soon. She was not ready.

  “Lia!” his voiced called again and she heard him trudge through the mud.

  She hurried to her feet and had taken only a few steps when he discovered her. Rain ran down his face, his hair a wet mass, dripping from the ends. His breathing was hard, he had obviously labored to catch up with her.

  “You walk…so quickly…I was calling after you…”

  She shook her head a moment, trying to make her tongue work. “I did not hear you. The rain. I turned around when I did.”

  “I am glad you stopped. Why are you out here?”

  “The Aldermaston…well, he said…well, it does not really matter. Did you stop at the kitchen first?”

  “No, I saw you crossing the grounds.”

  “It is warmer in the kitchen.” She felt like an idiot. Her mind was not working.

  “Of course it is warmer in the kitchen. Why are you out here in the rain? Is something wrong?”

  “No. It does not matter. I can do my errand later. Did you…is there something you needed me for? You usually do not go hunting after me like this.” She looked around, seeing how alone they were and her heart burned so much she thought she would never be able to swallow. She noticed his hand and hungrily wanted to grasp it.

  “Lia, I wanted to tell you something. I have tried, but so much has interfered. I wanted to share something with you from my tome, which I left in my chamber. I had to tell you before we must leave Muirwood.” He looked down at the mashed grass. “I wanted to tell you since I came, but I could not. Not until now.”

  “Tell me what?” she asked, trembling. She could not stop herself from shaking.

  “You are cold.”

  “I am all right.”

  “I should take you back.”

  “Just tell me, Colvin.” She looked at him pleadingly.

  “Here, away from the rain.” He moved beneath the canopy of trees, bringing her with him. “I spoke to my sister. She is the one who suggested it, actually, after I told her about you.”

  Lia nearly fainted. She swallowed, her thoughts blazing. She could not speak. She could only lean back against the trunk of the apple tree and gaze at his face, watching his mouth as he spoke. Her fingertips bit into the bark as she waited breathlessly for him to say it.

  Colvin gazed down, then into her eyes. Rainwater trickled down his cheek. “There is a power that the Aldermastons have – a power only they can use. Through the Medium, they can adopt you into a Family. As if you were born into that Family. They do not agree to do this very often. But it does happen.” He swallowed, steadying himself. “Lia, my sister and I…we would like you to be part of our Family. To be a Price. To share our Family name.”

  For a moment, Lia did not understand. Then her thoughts came crashing down around her like stones. “You want…you want me to be your…your sister?” she whispered in disbelief.

  Colvin looked at her in confusion. “Yes. Through the Medium, that can happen. That is what I wanted to show you in my tome. The reference to it. Lia, what is wrong? You look ill.”

  “Nothing,” she lied, staring at the ground. The truth stung her as if she grasped for a rose stem without realizing there would be so many thorns.

  “I thought you would be…we thought you would be pleased. If you were Family, you could study at an Abbey. You could finally become a learner.” His voice was concerned. “I thought that is what you wanted.” He stood in front of her, perplexed by her reaction apparently. “You were not expecting this.”

  Lia shook her head, unable to meet his eyes, unable to free herself from a rising surge of humiliation. Tears betrayed her again, and she squeezed the trunk so hard her fingers ached. She could not stop the tears and turned her face away.

  “Do you…do you understand what I am offering you?” he mumbled and she could hear the anger starting to surge in his voice. “Lia? Were you expecting something else from me? You thought I was going to…to what? Tell me what you are thinking!”

  She bit her lip, too ashamed to say the words. She gazed up at him, her eyes blurred with tears and saw the wild look of distress in his face. He was confused, angry, concerned.

  He stared at her, his hands slowly clenching. “This is not what you were thinking I would offer. You thought…I wanted to marry you?”

  He said it, confirming her worst fears and plunging her into darkness. He said it out loud. There was no going back. There was no way to pretend their conversation had not happened. No way to disguise how she felt about him.

  “Is that what you thought, Lia?” he asked in a flat voice.

  She looked at him desperately, begging him to leave with her mind.

  “Is it?” he said fiercely, his eyes blazing.

  Weakly, she nodded. It was the only admission she could make, for not even her tongue would obey her. She had desperately wanted to believe it. Marciana’s words haunted her: we are slow to believe that which if believed would hurt our feelings.

  It unleashed a new kind of storm. As thunder boomed over Muirwood, Colvin stood back from her, his eyes blazing with shock and anger. A sharp wind whistled through the grove as he stared at her, understanding for the first time. “I cannot believe this. What do you think would happen if I were to pledge myself to a wretched? I am from a noble Family. My mother was from a noble Family. I have a duty, a sworn duty, an obligation and covenant that has lasted for hundreds of years that binds my family to the Medium forever. I have a duty to marry someone of the noble blood. I know you are strong in the Medium, Lia, but I cannot give you that. I could never give you that.” He shook his head, as if someone had slapped him. “I am the Earl of Forshee. Do you have any idea what would happen if I were to choose someone of your station to be my wife? Forgetting my duty, forgetting the oaths my forbearers have sworn and that I swore myself. Do you have any idea the mockery,
the ridicule, the contempt that would bring to me and to my Family?” His face showed outrage, his lips quivering as he spoke.

  Lia could hardly breathe. Each word, each glimpse at his eyes was a dagger thrust in her heart. “I am sorry, Colvin. I am sorry I…I just thought…I hoped…”

  “I would lose my earldoms,” he went on. “I would lose all my lands save perhaps a small cottage or freehold. Is that what you want? A marriage must be a marriage of equals, Lia. You are my superior with the Medium. I know that and accept it. But you are not my equal in rank. You are a wretched – someone who does not know her ancestors. You grasp at something you just cannot have!”

  Lia choked on her tears. “You think that of me?” she said, blinded by her shame as well as the tears and unprepared for the hot surge of anger that followed. “That I was trying to snare you? To snare you?”

  Colvin’s face twisted with anger. “I have never tried to pretend anything with you.”

  “Nor have I!”

  “Then how could you think that I would ever marry you? You know me, Lia! You know me more fully than anyone else. It is my duty to protect Demont’s niece, it is not what I desire to do. It is my duty to carry on my family name honorably. Duty is greater than a wish. It is the motive that compels me. That goads me.” His voice fell, but his face showed all the fiery emotion still raging inside of him, a look of pure contempt and loathing. “I must go. We cannot be seen like this.”

  “Please!” Lia said, grasping his arm, but he shook her grip off. “Please, Colvin. I am sorry. I misunderstood.”

  “How could you misunderstand?” Colvin said, nearly shouting. “Because I did not reject you in the tunnel? I interpreted your gesture very differently than you intended it, I can see that now.”

  “No, it is a misunderstanding. I was wrong.”