The Blight of Muirwood

Home > Other > The Blight of Muirwood > Page 28
The Blight of Muirwood Page 28

by Jeff Wheeler


  Colvin touched her hand to get her attention, and she nearly flinched at his touch. She smiled and looked at him.

  “How do you speak Pry-rian and Dahomeyjan, Lia? Has Martin been teaching you?”

  She shook her head subtly. “Actually, it is the Aldermaston’s doing. He Gifted me with xenoglossia. When I need to understand something, it just happens. When I need to say something, it just comes out. It is not something I really think about.”

  Colvin nodded. “A powerful gift of the Medium.” He looked over his shoulder into the horizon. “This is your country, I think. Your parents are not alive. But I think they were from Pry-Ree. You will have an advantage there. It is probably wise if I do not speak much.”

  “I am sure that will be difficult for you,” she teased.

  He ignored the thrust and went on. “With the orb, we will not need to ask directions or track their steps. I only hope we can make good time and head them off on their escape. Have you any thoughts about outwitting Martin?”

  Lia looked out across the water. “I am sure he will be watching for us to follow. If we can get in front of him somehow, that will be a surprise. My guess is that they will not stay in towns, but sleep out of doors. He would not want too many witnesses, and bringing someone like her would cause talk. I know that he will keep a watch during the night, but that may still be the best chance to free her. I might be able to make the guards fall asleep.”

  “Like you did at the Pilgrim.”

  She nodded. “It was valerianum, of course. But I do not think it affects someone so quickly. I think it was the Medium. If that does not work, then I may try talking to Martin and explaining the situation to him.”

  Colvin shook his head. “He has already committed to this act. He will not be persuaded. But if you could lure him away from the others, I could subdue him.”

  Lia bit her lip. “I do not mean to be offensive, Colvin, but I doubt that. He…he is very good.” She could see she had offended him. She reached out and touched his leg. “I think Dieyre was right about him in one way. I do think he was soldier. I think he trained other soldiers. He taught me many ways to kill or disable a man. Though I do not think I have the heart to hurt him.” She frowned. “Please do not kill him, Colvin.”

  He snorted. “It is more likely that he would kill me, it seems.”

  “I am sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

  With a shrug, he waved her off. “Was he the one who suggested to you that it was safe strategy to charge into a mass of enemy knights with only a gladius and a bow?”

  She stopped short and looked at him quizzically. “In a way, yes. Are you criticizing me?”

  “Ah, I have offended you now. I wondered what possessed you to charge in like that. You were assuming we would rush in behind you? You communicated nothing. I saw you rise up and shoot down those hapless men then rush into the thick of them. It frightened me out of my wits. The one advantage to your action was it surprised them and drew their focus to you. The second is that it forced Dieyre to make a stand, one way or the other. I do not see how the Queen Dowager will forgive him for killing her men. So you may have committed him to our side without intending to. It was bold, Lia. But never do that again.”

  She gave him a curious expression. “You were worried about me?”

  “You should have worried more. Have a care next time.”

  Lia felt a flush of pleasure at the words. “One of the things Martin did teach me is that war is about suprising your enemy. Doing something they cannot anticipate. Throwing dust in their eyes. Stomping on their foot. A man cannot fight if you cut off his thumb. Being unpredictable is your best weapon. If you can get them to react to what you are doing, it gives you more choices than reacting to what they are doing. To be honest, my only goal was to thwart a murder. To draw the attention from inside the hovel to outside. I knew you and Dieyre were behind me. We did what had to be done.”

  His frown was not stern, just troubled. “Just warn me next time,” he insisted. “Before doing anything rash.”

  When they looked back, there was land.

  “Ah, there is Steep Holm,” Pen-Ilyn said. “We will take a short rest there.”

  * * *

  The hamlet of Enarth was smaller than the village of Muirwood. Perhaps a dozen small dwellings, a muddy road, and a single dock with fishing boats tethered there.

  “It is a humble place, but we will stay with my sister who lives a short way from here,” Pen-Ilyn said. He clasped their hands, one by one. “Per our agreement, my lord, we will wait on this side of the shore for you to return. You paid for two days, so we will wait for two days, despite other business that may be lost. If the Dahomeyjan cowards return, they will find our place desolate. If we wait any longer, our livestock may all be gone when we return. We get our milk and cheese from cowherds in Enarth anyway, so that will not trouble us. Be careful. The land is treacherous. Mind the snakes and scorpions.”

  Lia thanked him for his advice and the two headed off into the woods where she could use the Cruciger orb discreetly.As she cupped it in her hands, she thought of Ellowyn’s face, how terrified she must be, and focused her intent on where they would be and if there was a path that they could safely take to head them off and away from Pry-rians who would challenge them. The orb was cool in her hand, then it started to spin and pointed clearly. Colvin looked relieved and secured his rucksack against his shoulders. His sword dangled from his belt. Together, they followed the direction and forsook the muddy road.

  Pry-Ree was a wild and untamed land. The trees were different than the ones that grew in the Bearden Muir. They were taller, thicker, more ancient. The ground was rugged and mottled with boulders and stones. The greenery was sickly with weeds, and Pen-Ilyn’s warning about snakes was soon justified. There were snakes and voles everywhere. The serpents feared their passing and slithered away as they tromped through the brush, but their very presence made Lia shiver with revulsion. They crossed a wild lowload valley but on the other side rose an imposing crag of mountains with giant trees. There was a haunting familiarity about the land, like a song that had once been sung, its echo dying on the breeze.

  About mid-day, they came across a small cabin in the midst of the valley. There was no smoke from the chimney and the fence was in tatters. They approached cautiously, but there was no sign of anyone living there. The garden was spoiled, there were no animals in the pens. All life had been scrubbed clean. After passing the property, they found other similar dwellings, abandoned or forsaken with no trace of fire or harm. As if the owners had simply abandoned them and walked off.

  “It is strange,” Colvin muttered, looking at another abandoned dwelling. “Not a soul.”

  Lia nodded. She searched for any sign of what had happened, but the homes had been abandoned for several months. Each step brought them closer to the shadow of the mountains. The ground became more rugged and the size of the boulders were enormous, as if huge slabs of rock had broken off above and tumbled down the mountainside to rest on the valley slope. The ground became steeper, the journey more difficult as they ascended into the region. The sky was clear of any cloud, but it did not make the mood cheerful as sunlight usually did. Lia felt oppressed by the stones around her. Their massive, jagged cliff-faces seemed to mock her with her insignificance.

  The look of Pry-Ree began to alter before their eyes. The brush was thinner higher up, more verdant than down below in the valley. The trees were enormous, taller than a castle wall, tall enough to rival the stars. The mountains were thick with huge pine and redwood trees. The wind became more fierce. It was not like climbing the Tor. This was a mountain, not a shallow hill. Each step burned as they walked and pushed themselves higher into the crown of trees. The day began to wane, but they ate as they walked, trying to crest the mountain before the sunlight gave way. It was colder and Lia was glad to have brought a blanket.

  “Do you see that one?” Colvin asked, his voice hushed in wonder. “I have never seen a tree so thick.
It would take ten men to clasp around the trunk.”

  Lia saw it and marveled. The redwood was enormous, so thick around the base it would take an axeman a year to cut through it. There were no branches lower down, but high near the top the brances grew as thick as trees she had seen. It was enormous – greater even than the Sentinel oak in the woods near her home. They approached the wonder and as they did, discovered that it was not the only giant living in the forest. More trees could be seen further off, some even bigger.

  “I have never seen the like,” she whispered in awe. She rubbed the bark with her hand, wondering how ancient the tree was. Ferns grew thick in the area, but nearly all the other growth was stunted compared to the formidable trees.

  Higher into the mountains they went, and the trees got bigger and bigger. One was so wide at the base it would have taken thirty men to encircle it. They also discovered the skeletons of trees that had been struck by lightning and eventually collapsed. She could only imagine the crashing noise they would have made when they fell. Surely the earth would have shaken with the impact. After falling, the roots were splayed and wide open, revealing black tunnels made of soot and charcoal. It smelled familiar, like the kitchen ovens after a heavy day of baking. That same smell of ash she had grown up with. The roots of the giants were wide enough to fit them both and then add more. At last they reached the peak and the ground began descending the other way. The peaks of the mountains extended on both sides still, but the orb had led them to a hollow in between a rugged pair and then led them down the other side, where numerous fallen giants littered the woods, along with boulders and a stream.

  There was one giant where the exposed roots were so deep, it was like a cave. Using the orb for light, she explored the depth and discovered that it was not the den of any animal. The burnt insides of the tree was probably not a place animals cared to dwell, but it was tall enough to stand in until the very end.

  “It will be twilight soon,” Lia said, rubbing her hand against the charcoal interior. “If we go down the mountain at night, we will need the orb for light. We will probably be seen by anyone lower down. To be honest, I am tired. We covered a lot of ground today, most of it uphill.” The little den was about as comfortable a shelter as she could have hoped for.

  “I am tired as well.” he said, unslinging the rucksack and setting it down. He stared at the tangle of exposed roots, his expression curious. “This is truly an ancient land. I have never seen the like and probably never will again.” He looked at her. “I have never slept inside a dead tree before. I suppose they would make good shelter.”

  Lia agreed and withdew the orb and summoned its power again. Sometimes lettering appeared when it was trying to warn her. None appeared now. The orb had not changed directions for a while. “Weather in the mountains can be treacherous. Even though it is summer, it can snow or rain up in the highlands. At least we have this as shelter if that happens.”

  Colvin agreed and they set about making a small camp in the hollow of the roots. They did not want to risk a fire, but just in case the temperature fell severely during the night, it would be smart to have dry wood ready and nearby. With the fallen segments, it was easy to gather enough kindling and logs, so they were gathered in before the darkness swallowed them. Sitting in the pit of the tree, they shared their meal. The wind was cool, but the giant tree carcass still clinged to the sun’s warmth.

  “They might be riding around the mountain,” Lia guessed, acutely aware of how quiet Colvin was. “I do not know how wide this range is, but if they are traveling around it, we may catch them tomorrow. I wonder where they are camping tonight. Or if they stopped for shelter at an inn.”

  Colvin said nothing and she wondered if he was asleep. It was strange being in Pry-Ree, even stranger being with him. The land was more wild and untamed than she expected. Not as savage as the Bearden Muir, but harsh and alien. There were plants she did not recognize and the air had a different smell to it, a musk from the redwoods that was different from the oaks she was used to. She settled on top of her blanket and pulled her cloak over her shoulders, sitting up and leaning back against the ridged inside of the trunk, not sure how she should feel about her homeland. It was not familiar but it was part of her still. She was a daughter of the land, even though she had no memories of it. She glanced down at the shadow of Colvin’s body and decided she would take the first watch while he slept. The wind rustled the air and the towering limbs of the giant trees creaked as they swayed.

  “Lia?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

  “Yes?”

  Another silence.

  “There is something I must tell you. A confession I must make.”

  * * *

  “We often want one thing and pray for another, not telling the truth even to ourselves.”

  - Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX:

  Fallen Giants

  “What is it?” Lia asked, turning around to face him. She could not see his face, it was so dark.

  “Light the orb please.”

  She withdrew it from her pouch and it shone, enclosing them both in a sheath of light. She set it on the ground in front of her. The air was musty with charcoal, getting colder with each moment. Her breath came out as a fog as she breathed. She moved closer to him, studying his serious face. His expression was restless and eager to say something, but his eyes were dark, reflecting one of his somber moods. He struggled with the words, looking down at the orb and then at her. She noticed a slight tremble in his hands.

  “I was laying here,” he began, “trying to escape my thoughts in the dark. But I cannot escape them. Not any more. I have been in misery since we spoke in the orchard when it was raining. Up to that moment, I had persuaded myself that you were fond of that boy Duerden, that only my feelings were at risk. I was determined to master them. To control them.” He looked down at his hands and then up at her. “For the life of me, I cannot. I have wrestled against them. I have fought them. I have tried to burn them out with fury. To scald them out with regrets. Every verse in every tome I have ever read is flat and meaningless against what I am feeling. Ovidius comes the nearest, but his words only torture me. They do not comfort. I have lied to myself, and I have lied to you. I cannot do that any longer. I must tell you the truth.”

  Lia’s heart was hammering so wildly, she did not know what to think. She hugged herself, but it was not the cold that made her shiver. It was giddiness, hope, fear, and longing all boiling and seizing inside her at once. She could only nod for him to go on, unable to trust herself with words.

  Colvin looked down at his hands again, as if ashamed to meet her gaze. “I am not afraid of succumbing to a blind fit of passion. As a maston, I have made oaths that I will not break. I value the presence of the Medium, though I cannot hear it right now. Should I even be telling you this? My head says I should trust you. My heart is nearly bursting with the words.” He looked up at her again, his look more desperate. “My biggest fear was hurting you. Disappointing you. Now I must risk that though it pains me. It is so difficult…finding the words. The poets always could. But that is not my way.” He looked away, she could see the frustration by the clenched jaw muscles. She wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him, but she did not move. She waited until he was ready.

  “You have a strange power over me, Lia. No one else has ever impressed me so deeply. In your presence, I have been my worst self as well as my best self. I have retched all over you. I have shouted at you, scolded you. I have wanted to clamp my hand over your mouth more than once. But I dare not touch you, because when it happens, it makes me feel things so intensely. It makes me forget who I am and what I want to be. When I was a learner at Billerbeck, there was a girl who tried to win me, despite my efforts to shun her. I am sure she was a worthy prize – from a good family. She knew languages and had the patience for engraving. But I did not care for her. My heart was secretly longing after Demont’s missing niece,
even though I did not know who she was.” He chuckled darkly. “But now that I do know her, I cannot love her. She is too simple. Too biddable.”

  Colvin looked her in the eye, his mood shifting again. His voice was grave. “When I care for someone, it runs deep. It becomes a firm part of me, like a stone. When I awoke in Muirwood in your kitchen, when I saw you peering at me with worry and concern, it brought out feelings that I had never experienced before. They were so powerful and so overwhelming to me that I thought it must be a kystrel…that you were some het…some girl who had found one and was using it to control my emotions. When the Medium obeyed you and you lit the fire, I believed violently that I was right. How could a wretched be so strong in the Medium? Especially as young as you. But the thread around your neck only concealed a ring, not a kystrel. I wanted to be away from you as quickly as possible, because the feelings were so impossibly strong. The way you savored life…even mocked its unfairness by taking such pleasure in simple things.” He laughed at himself. “I cannot hold an apple without thinking of you. In my mind, I see you smelling it before taking that first bite.” He leaned closer, his hand resting near the orb…near her fingers. “I do that myself now. Every time. The flavor of apples reminds me of you. The smell of purple mint. So many little things in my life remind me of the time we have shared together. The memories are cutting me apart like knives.”

 

‹ Prev