by Jeff Wheeler
As she rounded the corner to the kitchen, there was Duerden pacing outside, his face flushed. He did not see her, so she darted back around the corner and went towards the rear doors where she could avoid him. There was a whistling sound and she paused, peering around the bend. In the shade was Colvin, lunging with his sword, swooping and twirling it as if he faced a dozen knights trying to kill him. She bit her lip, wondering if that was the moment to talk to him, but he looked so fierce and determined that she slunk away, back against the wall.
Both doors were blocked.
Muttering to herself at the unfairness of it, she decided to confront Duerden. When he saw her coming, his cheeks flushed.
“Are you going…to the maypole dance?” Duerden asked, stammering in his speech.
She stared at him as if he were ridiculous. “I do not think anyone will be dancing tonight,” she answered.
“No! Several have been outside the gates and back again with the news. The Queen Dowager wants the Aldermaston in custody and the earls. Everyone else has been given a safe conduct to come and go as they desire. She announced it at noon and opened up her coffers to pay for cider and bread. Those who approach her knights are given coins. Whitsunday is still going to happen tonight. Where have you been, Lia?”
She was dumbstruck. What was happening? “I have been sleeping, Duerden. The Aldermaston has errands for me tonight.” How exactly could she tell him that she was facing the maston test?
“Surely you are not staying here tonight,” he said warningly.
“Surely I am. Muirwood is my home,” she answered. “Jon Hunter did not murder the old king, Duerden! The Aldermaston had nothing to do with it.”
He looked crestfallen. “The other wretcheds are leaving. Reome, Trisa, they are all in the square drinking Muirwood cider! The only ones who have stayed behind are Astrid, Pasqua, and Sowe. They are in the kitchen, eating the treats because Pasqua will not leave and she will not sell them to the Queen’s men.”
“Did Bryn leave?”
“I think so…”
Lia shook her head and marched past him to the kitchen doors, but he caught her arm.
“Lia, you cannot stay here!”
She looked him in the eye. “How can you abandon him, Duerden? He is the Aldermaston. Who is the Queen Dowager but a foreigner from Dahomey? When did she earn the right to govern in this Hundred? To threaten us? Go join the others then. I will not abandon him.”
His expression was troubled, wracked with pain. “I do not want you to get hurt. I…I care about you.”
She scowled at him. “I know. The Aldermaston told me. We are only fifteen, Duerden.”
He looked desperate. “My father and mother were both fifteen when they pledged their troth to each other. They did not marry until later, of course. I was not suggesting…what I mean is that I did not want you to think…you are right, we are so young, but I wanted you to know how I felt about you.”
She looked at him with a mixture of affection and exasperation. “I care about you, Duerden, but you are a learner. You do not need to pledge your troth to me. I am only a wretched.”
“Not to me,” he answered firmly. “I have given it much thought, Lia.”
“But we see things so differently. You want to join the dancing. I have duties here.”
“My parents are out there, Lia. How can I remain in here?”
“You should go to them. Please, go to them! I do not deserve your feelings, Duerden. And we are still too young. You may feel differently…after you know me better.”
He looked pained. “We have known each other for two years. This is not a mere fancy.”
She shook her head. “There are things I cannot share with you. Things that I know…about myself. I will not make any promises to you. I owe the Aldermaston a debt that I must repay. Please, go to your family. Be sure they are safe.”
He struggled with his feelings for a moment. Then he took her hand and kissed it quickly. “My feelings will not change, Lia. But I will obey you as I always have.” With a look of despair and sadness, he walked away from the kitchen towards the outer gates.
Lia swore at herself in frustration, with the lingering sensation of his lips on her knuckles alarming her. It was a tender gesture, straight from his heart, and it worried her. She turned and opened the kitchen door and received another shock when she stepped inside.
There was Edmon standing in front of Sowe, his face so close to hers, his voice low and urgent. He was holding her hand. Pasqua dabbed at her eyes as she watched nearby, her face a mixture of emotions.
Edmon’s face jerked as she entered, but he looked relieved. “Lia! Thank the Medium. I thought it was the Aldermaston.” He looked back at Sowe. “If you are forced to flee the Abbey, you will find a safe haven in Norris-York. My groomsman’s name is Jon Orchard. He will offer you shelter until I return. If you can, hire a wagon or cart to take you. Here,” he said, fumbling at his belt untying his purse. He seized several coins from it and plopped them into her hand. “This will be plenty for clothes and shelter. Disguises. Only if it comes to that.” He looked over at Lia. “For you, as well, if Colvin will not shelter you. But I think he will.”
Sowe bit her lip. “You do not have to give me anything. Pasqua and I will be fine. If the Abbey falls, Lia will protect us.”
His face looked pained. “I do not doubt it. But Dieyre’s threats are haunting me. If they force the gates open, I want you to run. Hide where you can. Wait until it is safe and then slip away. I will look for you on my estate. Can I trust you to do that, Sowe? Pasqua?”
Sowe nodded, unable to meet his pleading eyes.
Lia stood, staring at them quietly, unable to mistake the pain in Edmon’s eyes.
“This may be the only chance I get to say goodbye,” Edmon said. “The Aldermaston wants us in his manor house before sunset so that we can be seen entering.”
“I know,” Sowe whispered, still unable to look up. “Goodbye then.” She clutched the coins and fidgeted with her hands. Tears dangled from her lashes.
Sowe looked so beautiful in the fading light that Lia could only stare, her back to the door to prevent anyone from intruding on the moment. She held the crossbar brackets behind her.
“Sowe.” His voice was just a whisper.
She glanced up at him, her eyes deep with fear and brimming with longing. He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. Watching from the doorway, Lia was stricken by its simplicity, its tenderness, and with the crushing sickness of jealousy that Colvin would never do that to her.
When their lips parted, he grasped her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “I can only leave knowing that you will do everything to safeguard yourself.” He reached down and took her trembling hands and brought them up to his mouth for another kiss, like Duerden had. “I hope these coins will aid your departure. If not, and nothing happens, then they are a small token of the pleasure you have brought me on my stay at Muirwood. Or you can take them as payment for a kiss, which I did not ask your leave to take.” With one finger, he traced the bottom of her chin. “For that, I beg your pardon.”
She nodded mutely, struggling to find her voice. Then said softly, “I forgive you.”
Edmon enfolded her in his arms, rested his chin against her hair and then broke away and started for the door.
Lia felt the door tug behind her, but she was gripping the crossbar brace so tight that it did not open. Coughing in warning to Edmon, she turned and opened the door and found Colvin standing there, sweat glistening on his forehead, his blade sheathed in its scabbard. He looked startled to see her, his face showing the surprise before hardening into impassivity again.
“Edmon,” he beckoned, but the other earl was on his way. He looked at Sowe who trembled like a leaf and said nothing until after he had exited the kitchen.
“What were you doing?” Colvin asked as they started away, without a single word to Lia.
“Bid the girl goodbye,” Edmon said in a tight whisper.
The whisper was louder, frustrated. “No, I said bid the girl goodbye! Lia! Do not just walk away from her.”
Colvin scratched an itch at his neck. “I will do that in my own…”
“When?” Edmon said with a surge of anger. “You are so hard-hearted, I swear. Your way then. Insufferable…”
Lia felt the tiny pleasure of vindication and shut the door so she could no longer hear them. But a moment later, there was a knock behind her and she turned and found Colvin standing there. He glanced at Sowe and Pasqua within, but then back at Lia again. His jaw was clenched with fury. She knew the look well and gave him raised eyebrows only, saying nothing.
“Can I speak with you?” he asked.
She shrugged and left the kitchen behind, shutting the door slowly. Her heart pounded inside her chest, but she tried to look calm and self-assured. It was a lie, but she tried her best to make it seem natural. They had not really spoken since that day in the grove of apple trees. The fading sunlight turned the gray walls of the Abbey a rich golden hue. Again she had the feeling of it calling to her, summoning her.
“Walk with me,” Colvin said and started back to the manor house. “Even though I cannot tell you where we are going, that would not stop you from finding us.”
She said nothing. He knew she had the Cruciger orb and could find him anywhere.
“Marciana told me this afternoon that she wished you were going with us, instead of Martin. He is a stranger to her, but I know that you trust him. You owe your skills to him. He has trained you well.”
“Thank you,” she replied, wondering what he would say next.
He did not say anything, and they reached the rear door to the manor house. He stood facing the door as if struggling with the act of extending his hand and opening it. “I do not fear for your safety, like Edmon does. He still has much to learn about controlling his feelings. I trust you to the Medium. If you follow it, you cannot do better.” He turned and looked at her. “We are leaving Muirwood tonight. I will not be coming back.”
Lia managed to keep her composure, but inside she anguished. “I will worry about you, wherever you are.”
He shut his eyes and then looked at her. “You have enough worries here to occupy your thoughts at present. I must go.”
She stopped him as he reached for the door. “There is a question I never asked you.”
He paused, his jaw clenching but he kept his temper in check. “Yes?”
She moistened her lips. “Were you afraid to take the maston test? Is it something to be feared?”
His eyes glinted. The shadows around them thickened as the sun went down beyond the distant hills. For a moment, he paused, thinking of his response. “It is something to fear in its own way. There is a weight and risks to the obligation, not the least of which is being asked to sacrifice your life as happened to Edmon’s brother.”
She looked at him hard. “The risk of being murdered?”
He nodded subtly, his expression stern. “There are fates worse than murder.”
She crinkled her eyebrows. “I cannot imagine that.”
“Well, it is clear from studying the tomes,” he went on, “that those who do not fight the Myriad Ones may end up becoming like them.”
She shrank within herself. The thought was as repulsive as she could imagine. “Are you saying that the Myriad Ones are the souls of the dead?”
He looked her in the eye. “No. The Myriad Ones go by many names. One of those names is the Unborn. They are souls too evil to be born.”
She shivered in the twilight.
“They surround us constantly, Lia. In the air we breathe. They worry us and nag at us with their thoughts. They deceive and seduce. If Muirwood falls it will be because of them and those who heed their whispers. Rather than allowing us to be overrun by them, sometimes Idumea sends the Blight. Even death would be a better fate than to live in a world ruled by the Unborn.” He pressed his lips closed. “Perhaps I have said more than I should have. The knowledge is a maston’s burden to carry. I am sorry if I disturbed you. Why did you ask?”
Lia looked at his face, tried to hold it in her mind in case she never saw him again. But she did not reveal why. “I always have questions. You know that. Be well on your journey.” She turned away towards the kitchen, not wanting him to see the tears that swelled in her eyes at the thought she would never see him again.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX:
The Essaios
When Lia had crept inside Muirwood Abbey to seek Colvin at the Pilgrim, she had been amazed at the Leerings inside, how they had lent life to flowers and plants that never enjoyed the sun’s warmth. On that day, she had stolen inside as a wretched. Now she was invited. Instead of her wretched gown and cloak, she wore the learner robes she had seen others wear and a veil to cover her face and hair and hide her identity. Prestwich walked alongside her the short distance from the manor house to the Abbey door she had entered before. The Aldermaston would be waiting for her within, she was told. She was nervous as she approached.
Prestwich halted before reaching the final steps leading up to the doors. His face flushed with emotion. He was as old as the Aldermaston. How long had he served him? “You will go on alone,” he said. “The gates are shut on the Aldermaston’s orders. No one will be allowed in or out of the grounds until he emerges. Good luck, Lia.”
“Thank you,” she replied and turned back to the final steps. As she approached, she experienced the warning feelings of the Leerings inset into the archway, filling her with doubt and dread. But she expected them and their warnings were but a murmur in her thoughts, easily silenced. She pulled at the thick handles and opened the pewter doors. She left the world under the blanket of twilight. Inside the Abbey, it was as bright as noonday.
At the threshold, she removed her shoes as she had been instructed to do and covered her feet with velvet slippers. Slowly, she lifted the veil so she could gaze at the inner structure, afire with brightness and radiance. Each Leering seemed to be rejoicing to see her and the feelings of warmth and happiness banished any dread the outer world had threatened her with. It was the essence of Muirwood and it flooded her. She waited a moment and then the Aldermaston appeared from the deep end of the Abbey proper, his gray cassock exchanged for one that was buttery in color and threaded with gold. There was no pain in his gait as he approached, as if the Abbey lent him its own strength for the task. He motioned for her to follow him and then took her down the corridor a short distance to the staircase leading down. It was the place where she had found the tunnel leading to the Pilgrim.
The chamber was beautifully carved out of marble and tiles, and polished wooden benches set in rows. The Aldermaston directed her to sit on the bench and he approached the large stone table at the head of the chamber. The Medium was so thick in the air, she could hardly breathe. It thrummed inside of her with its power, filling every crevice. Tears stung her eyes at the feelings surging through her. She remembered the stone table she had seen before. There was something familiar about it. Instinctively, she knew that both of her parents had been mastons. She clung to the hope that gave her.
The Aldermaston stood behind the stone table, his eyes warm and affectionate. “Do you have any Gifts?” he asked her.
She was not sure what to say, but the Medium whispered to her. She nodded her head. “I have the Gift of Xenoglossia and the Gift of Courage. I also have…the Gift of Wisdom, I believe.”
The Aldermaston nodded proudly. “You have other Gifts you did not name. The Gift of Firetaming and the Gift of Recollection. These are powerful Gifts. If you pass the maston test, you will earn more. Where much is given, much is required. Do you seek the rights of the mastons?”
She was about to answer more elaborately, but the Medium whispered for her to simply say, “Yes.” So she did.
“Before you pass the maston test, you will be given a Gift of Knowledge. It will help you to understand the
test, for you must pass it alone. No one else will be with you. This is the lower dungeon of the Abbey. It represents the world where we live, not the world we came from. Deeper in the Abbey, behind a latticework called the Rood Screen, you will find the Apse Veil. The room beyond is a representation of the world of Idumea. To pass the maston test, you must do everything required to enter the Apse. Before you pass the Rood Screen, you will be given the chance to turn back. If you quit, you will lose your chance to become a maston. If you fail the test, you may try again in one year’s time. If you succeed, you will receive a shirt of chaen and another Gift.”
Lia waited patiently.
“Let me begin with the Gift of Knowledge. I will only speak it this once. You will not be allowed to ask questions, but you will be given the chance to ponder what you have heard after passing the Rood Screen. Listen carefully and let the Medium impress upon your thoughts the words that I will say. It is truth not to be engraved into tomes. You must engrave it in your feelings and in your thoughts.”
Lia listened with anticipation to every word. She was not expecting the truths the Aldermaston taught her. Some she already knew. Most of it was new and filled her with amazement. As the Aldermaston spoke, the power of the Medium surged, filling her mind with thoughts and images. She knew he was standing in front of her, but there was opened to her thoughts a new world that went beyond anything she imagined. As he spoke, she could see in her mind the events he described. Not just words, but she could see their representation.
The vision dazzled her.
All her life she had heard Idumea described as a world, as a person, as a benevolence in the aether that blessed everything with life and health and joy through the intervening power of the Medium. Now she learned that Idumea was a place, not a person. It was a world filled with a race called the Essaios. They were beautiful and graceful beings, perfect in delicacy and strength. They looked like men and women that surrounded her, only taller, more graceful and beautiful than anyone she had ever seen. Even more, their skin glowed with the power of the Medium, for it obeyed them. She saw their beautiful cities, their enormous gardened cities and wept with joy and wonder. To her, the Abbey grounds were the most beautiful place in the world, but the city-gardens of Idumea were a thousand times more beautiful, a hundred thousand times more grand. The enormity of them defied comparison. She realized that the finely sculpted grounds of Muirwood were merely a pathetic attempt to mimic the wonders of Idumea. The Essaios were wise and powerful and they could never die. From the world of Idumea, they reined as king-mastons and queen-mastons over millions of millions of worlds spread throughout a skein of interlocking worlds that was beyond Lia’s comprehension, vast beyond anything she could imagine. Millions of little worlds, like hers, spread throughout the infinite expanse. The Essaios used the Medium to craft worlds, to command the forces of fire and ice and sea and storm to create and to tame the wild elements into obedience. As she watched, she hungered to be like them, to wield the Medium in such a powerful way. Then she realized that she could, someday – that she was already a part of them, and that they had created her as well as their worlds.
