The Blight of Muirwood

by Jeff Wheeler

  Lia clenched her jaw. Had Jon realized he was going to die before it happened? Had the Medium prepared him as it was preparing her? How brave he seemed. Or was it better not to know? Not to understand the Medium’s will until it was too late. That was the necessity – to surrender oneself to the Medium’s will. That was the way of invoking its greatest powers. Holding back, even her thoughts, was enough to send it flying away. She did not do that. She turned the information over in her mind. The Leerings that defended the Abbey borders were in the woods beyond the Cider Orchard. They were hidden amidst the oaks. To be protected, one had to be inside the circle of stones.

  Determination filled her. She had to get Colvin and Ellowyn inside that protective ring. She did not know how she was going to do it. But she had to. If her blood was required, then she would do it. She would not shrink from it. Something squeezed her heart with pain and she glanced back at Colvin. His face was a mask of fatigue and impatience. He looked furious as he walked. Was he hearing the Medium as well? Or was his anger blotting out the murmur?

  Seeing his face in the darkness, his scowl and expression made the pain even more intense. Ellowyn looked exhausted, her eyes nearly shut as she stumbled after, trying and failing to keep up. She remembered his confession in the mountains of Pry-Ree. It was such a relief to have heard it. To die knowing that he loved her. She would set him free at last. Did the Aldermaston of Pry-Ree know? When he read the writing on the orb, tears had come to his eyes. He had looked at her with such sympathy and compassion. He had kissed her forehead. Did he know what she was facing? The choice that would be only hers to make?

  Would she die for Colvin? Yes – it did not require thinking or reasoning. If she could save him, she would. He would not let her. Not willingly. No, he was too proud and stubborn for that. He would try and stop her if he knew.

  She could not tell him then. Glancing back, she saw the torches were even closer. Soon they would be overrun. How far was Doe Bridge? Somewhere ahead, in the blackness.

  “Keep going,” she whispered to Colvin. “They are getting too close.”

  He stopped, tugging Ellowyn with him, waking her from the dream-like walk. “We stay together.”

  She shook her head. “I am not going to fight them all, Colvin. Just need to scare them a little. Keep going ahead. I will catch up with you.”

  His jaw was like a block of stone. He looked frustrated, upset. He shook his head as if to cast away his thoughts. “We will wait for you.”

  Lia touched his arm. “You are the Earl of Forshee and she is the last heir of Demont. Your duty is to see her to safety. My duty is to help that. Now do as I say. I will not be gone long.”

  His face pinched with doubt. “Do not do anything rash,” he threatened.

  Lia watched as he took Ellowyn roughly by the arm and started off into the woods again. Soon they would reach the lake at the river’s bend. Soon. It was nearly midnight. Lia tested the pull of her bow and walked through the woods the way they had come towards the bobbing torchlight. Her mind was cool and focused. All of the training rushed back to her. She found a nice twisted oak to hide behind. She would attack from the side where they would not be expecting her. She would wait until they had passed her and strike from the rear.

  Breathing slowly, she waited until the torches became distinguished. Black tunics appeared, the arms of the Queen Dowager emblazoned on them. Dahomeyjan knights. Her heart felt like flint. Twelve men. Six with torches. Dieyre underestimated her. That was a mistake.

  They were tired from their long march. They were not paying attention. The lead was not a knight, but a hunter. He scowled and stared at the footprints often, nodding as the trail was clear to his eyes. She watched and waited, silently bringing herself around the trunk of the oak. Slipping an arrow from her hip quiver, she set it in the string. Waiting. The prey is careless. The hunter is patient.

  The man stopped, holding up his hand. He found the place where they had stopped. His head lifted up slightly, listening. Lia pulled the string back and let the arrow loose. Before he crumpled to the ground, she had another one out and dropped another one of the torch carriers.

  Gasps of alarm. Swords ringing from their scabbards. Another one went down, also carrying a torch.

  “Over there! From the trees!”

  Lia shot another one, bringing him down with a single shaft. She darted away from the tree and slunk behind another one. They were panicking. Good. Someone grabbed one of the fallen torches and she dropped him too. Moving to the other side of the trunk, she sighted another one and let loose another arrow. He went down without a sound. There were six left.

  “No, it came from that way!”

  “No, I saw it! Over there! There!”

  Lia waited two heartbeats and came around again, sighting another torch carrier. She did not miss. The last man with a torch was wiser than his friends. He dropped it and scampered into the woods. As the torches hit the wet marshgrass, they hissed and smoked and quickly burned out. A final one still was aflame, crackling and hissing. No one tried to fetch it. Lia stared at the dark, seeing several cowering behind trees.

  She stepped away from the oak and started off the way she had come. Her heart was heavy for having killed so many. As she walked, she raised her voice and spoke in Dahomeyjan. “If you follow me, you will die too. Go back to your masters.”

  For a moment, she wondered if she should go back and shoot the rest. It would be more difficult in the dark. They were afraid. Their hunter was dead. They could run to the shore and cry for help. But she knew she needed to save her strength. The greater battle was still ahead.

  * * *

  “The soul attracts that which it secretly harbors; that which it loves, and also that which it fears. So often we bring into our lives that which would ruin us merely by thinking and fearing it.”

  - Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey

  * * *

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO:

  Firetaming

  Doe Bridge was tall, built of stone and bricks and a double arch. One of the arches was round and narrow and a little higher than the other, to guide the overspill of the river through it when the flood season came rather than eating away at the banks of the shore. The other arch was thicker and peaked in the middle and straddled the main body of the river. Scraggly oak trees grew along the thick mossy banks. Despite the recent rains, the secondary run beneath the shorter arch was dry. An outcropping of mossy stone was revealed in the moonlight, where the column of brick and stone met to form the middle of the river and supported it. That junction formed a little bend in the bridge and connected both sides of land. Lia, Colvin, and Ellowyn were grateful for the mossy rock, for it muffled their steps as they crept towards the base of the bridge.

  Dahomeyjan knights were posted at each end, their horses tethered. There were easily twenty men, guarding both approaches of the bridge. Lia knew that dawn was coming and they would probably need to fight their way through the Queen Dowager’s army to reach the safety of Muirwood. Getting past the soldiers without a fight was her first choice.

  Lia led the way, her bow ready, an arrow nipped in the string. She moved slowly, carefully, trying to reach the shadow of the bridge that their torchlight could not expose. She heard them speaking in Dahomeyjan as she advanced, complaining of the cold and wondering when they would abandon the bridge and join their fellows in the woods surrounding the Abbey.

  “We will be warming our hands soon enough,” one of them said. “Over the burning stones of the Abbey. This land is cursed with cold and mist.”

  Lia reached the block of stone at the base of the bridge, mid-stream. She could hear the soldiers above her, but no one had heard her approach. Ellowyn, watching the bridge, nearly stumbled off the rock into the water, but Colvin caught her and kept her near him. She trembled and shivered. Lia sighed in relief and listened. There was the loud rumble of horses approaching from the north in the darkness. She motioned for Colvin and Ellowyn to hurry.

  Looking dow
n at the black waters, Lia shuddered. How deep was the river? She could not tell. It looked absolutely frigid. The far end was not near enough to jump. She wished that the bridge was not guarded. She was not counting on having to cross two rivers. How would they cross quietly enough? They had to cross directly under the bridge or the knights might see them and then it would all be over. She rubbed her eyes, trying to think.

  Colvin dragged Ellowyn up to the hiding place, clutching her hand as she shook, her teeth chattering. The girl was too cold. A dunk in the river might kill her. It was looking like they would need to fight their way across.

  “It is Dieyre,” came a muttering voice. “He looks vexed.”

  Another chill swept down Lia’s spine but not because of the water or the breeze. How she wanted to reward him with the arrow for his treachery. The sound of advancing horses closed in and the soldiers clustered along the banks. There were probably a dozen riders in all, the mounts panting and snorting. Hooves dashed in the dirt.

  Dieyre’s voice was unmistakable. “Any sign of them?”

  “Of who, my lord?”

  “Of anyone, you idiot. I had men coming down the river this way. They should have reached you by now. No sign of Forshee or the girls?”

  “Believe us,” said a tired voice, “If there were women folk wandering about tonight, we would have noticed. Some warm flesh would be appreciated on a such an accursed night as this. Would you agree, my lord? I do not see your prisoner with you. Where is she?”

  Lia and Colvin faced each other, their eyes mirroring the same thought. Marciana.

  “Safe and quite warm, I assure you. I left her on a fur coverlet with cider and meat. You can pay for your pleasures when the work is finished. Some of the lasses at the Abbey are pretty. Stay here until the next watch, then ride hard. I want you at Muirwood by dawn.”

  “We will not be late, my lord.”

  The clop of hooves started across the stones above them, each one thundering. With a dozen or so knights, riding one at a time, it would be a noisy crossing. She whispered that in Colvin’s ear. He understood. Dieyre’s arrival would help them cross undetected.

  “How deep is the water?” Colvin whispered to her. She shrugged. Nodding, he held her shoulders and ventured into the river first. He scowled with the shock of cold water but he was tall enough he could stand. It was up to his waist. Motioning for Ellowyn, he reached out to her. She looked confused, but Lia helped lead her into his arms. He turned, adjusting her weight and then looked back at Lia. “I will come back for you,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “No, I will follow. I am not that cold.”

  He shook his head violently. “Wait for me.” Then he stepped deeper into the river. The clatter and clash of hooves overhead was like thunder. Ellowyn squeezed around his neck, burying her face against his cheek. He struggled with her weight and his footing. Lia clenched her teeth, willing his feet to find safety. The water was deeper in the middle, rising up to his chest. He hoisted Ellowyn higher, teeth set, and then the worst was over and they were in the shallows on the other side. He deposited her on the mossy rock in the shadows and then came back swiftly, crossing the river again to the midway point where Lia crouched, shivering with cold and terrified by the proximity of the soldiers above.

  He beckoned for her to come to him. Stepping off the rock, she lowered herself into his arms. As he clutched her tightly to him and braved the tug of the river again, she held her bow with one hand and wrapped her other arm around his neck, her mouth near his ear. He stepped deeper into the cold depths, his entire body shuddering with the cold. His teeth rattled, despite his tight clenching. With his face so near, she could almost see the puckered scar along his eyebrow, though all was deep with shadow. He nearly stumbled but managed to hoist her higher, to keep her away from the grasp of the current.

  She whispered in his ear. “I am worried about Ciana too. She is a brave girl. I know she has resisted him. Dieyre’s words…so much chaff. He does not believe half of what he says. Neither should we.”

  He nodded, but said nothing. As they emerged up the other side, he looked into her eyes with cold rage. “I wanted to kill him. But it passed.”

  She squeezed his neck with her free arm and whispered her thanks as he deposited her on the mossy stone bank on the other side. Reaching out to him, she grabbed his hand and helped pull him out of the icy waters. He was cold. So very cold. The thunder of hooves retreated off the bridge and into the gloom. How many soldiers were between them and Muirwood?

  They still had one more river to cross.

  * * *

  Lia gazed into the stars with despair. Many had already passed the horizon and the eastern sky was starting to blush a faint violet – the advent of dawn. She knew there was a bridge somewhere to the east, but Muirwood lay directly to the south and the orb had led her to the easiest ford. She was also certain that the other bridge would be guarded as well. These waters were much more swollen than the previous river, churning with foam. However, stones in the midst jutted out in intervals. With relief, Lia crossed from rock to rock, followed by Ellowyn and then Colvin, each taking a turn. Some steps were treacherous and slick. Each hop, a danger. Lia wanted to summon light from the orb, but that would attract the eyes of anyone in the moors beyond who happened to look their way.

  After crossing an especially slippery boulder, she turned to warn Ellowyn just as the girl lost her balance and pitched into the river. She knew Colvin would try and save her, but he was still shivering from his last crossing. Lia tossed her bow the rest of the way to the far bank and lunged into the shocking grip of the river. The current was dragging Ellowyn swiftly, but Lia caught up with her and seized the hem of her gown and yanked hard. The girl spluttered and choked and grasped at Lia, her face contorted with panic, unable to scream from swallowing so much water. Lia hooked her arm around Ellowyn’s neck and struggled to reach the shore. Each pull sapped her already fading strength. The cold made her mind foggy. Which way was the bank? Had the current turned her around? Then she saw Colvin running after them on the far side and she kicked and struggled until the river slammed them both into a boulder and she could not see for several moments. She heard Colvin’s hiss of breath and clutched Ellowyn tightly, feeling her body limp. Lia struggled against the darkness and groped her way around the water of the boulder and kicked against it.

  Again the current started to tug her away and she opened her eyes and saw a shaft of wood reaching out to her. Colvin extended the ash bow to her and she grabbed at the end and he hauled on it with his strength. Climbing into the river himself, he helped drag Ellowyn to the bank and away from the river’s icy grip. Lia was soaked through and hugged herself.

  “Put her down, on her stomach,” she said through chattering teeth. “Quickly! She’s swallowed too much water.”

  Colvin obeyed and Lia knelt beside the girl and pushed her lower back hard. She repeated the motion, pushing and pushing, trying to force her to breathe. Ellowyn hiccupped and then started to splutter and choke. After struggling for her air, she started to sob violently, curled up in a ball and trembled.

  Lia stripped away her own leather girdle, which was soaked and wrung out her shirt. Her mind was still fogging and her fingers did not feel like her own.

  “Fire,” she whispered. “We are too cold. Without warmth, we will die. Help me with her cloak. Wring the water out.”

  “We cannot build a fire, Lia,” he warned. “They are near. They will see it.”

  “If we do not do something, it will not matter. She is freezing to death, Colvin. So am I. If we do not warm ourselves soon, we will start wandering aimlessly. It is…so cold. So cold. We need fire.”

  “I will gather some wood,” he said, but she knew there was not enough time.

  “We need it now,” she said, pulling out the orb. She stared at its smooth surface, cold from the plunge in the river. She had summoned light with it. She had summoned directions with it. Opening her eyes, she stared at its face, pl
eading with it for warmth.

  The orb began to glow. Not with light but with warmth. She opened herself to the Medium, drawing in fire as she had with the Leering at the laundry. Firetaming, it was called. The orb glowed red hot in her hands, but it did not burn her. Ellowyn rose from her swoon,staring at her. It gave off some light, like staring into a bed of hot coals. Waves of heat wafted in the air. Colvin and Ellowyn both gathered around her, trying to block its light with their bodies. Each held out their numb hands and rubbed them, bathing them in the warmth. Warmth prickled through Lia’s body. The cold was driven out of her completely. Their clothes gave off steam.

  “How are you…doing this?” Ellowyn whispered, her eyes searching Lia’s face. “How is it that you can use the Medium?”

  “I will answer your questions later, Ellowyn. Warm yourself. Both of you.”

  Colvin stared at the burning orb, at Lia’s hands, then into her eyes. He looked relieved and grateful. She could almost see his thoughts on his face. Using the Medium in a way that was not normally permitted. He looked bemused.

  “Do not complain,” she told him with a half-smile.

  “I am not,” he replied.

  In silence, they enjoyed the heat from the orb until their shivers subsided. Lia felt warm throughout. The plunge into the river had shredded her weariness. She felt rested, ready to face what lay ahead. To face her death without flinching.

  She felt their presence, drawn to the power of the Cruciger orb in some malignant hateful way. Drawn to the power of the Essaios. The smoke-shapes sniffed around them, mewling and hissing. Lia started to tremble again when she felt them. Their thoughts crammed against her mind, trying to daze her. Fear, despair, hopelessness.

  The first pink of dawn appeared in the east.

  “It is time,” Lia whispered, opening herself fully to the Medium’s power and its will. Do with me as you may. I will sacrifice whatever I must to see him safe from here. Guide me. Then as she looked down at the cooling orb, the spindles began to whirl.