by Jeff Wheeler
He snorted with laughter. “It would take the combined strength of all the kingdoms to prevent it. No one will leave their own land undefended to come help a pretty young lass new to her throne.” His voice was deadly earnest when he continued. “I will not allow them to destroy you.”
The look he gave her was suddenly . . . tortured. Clenching his jaw, he glanced away from her and hurled the rag onto the windowsill by the pestle. “You need to leave the city, Maia. The spiders are crawling everywhere now. They have been sneaking in for days.”
“Who?”
“The Dochte Mandar!” he said gruffly, giving her a scowl that softened quickly. “Hundreds. There are too many for you. They do not just wish to subvert you, Maia; they want you dead. They will kill you and lead the people to their slaughter.” He looked pained by what he said. She could see in his eyes he was utterly convinced of her danger.
She imagined her Privy Council was desperate to find her. By now, they must know about the attempted attack in the castle. “Will you let me go?”
He gave her another scowl and muttered something under his breath.
“You must let me go,” she pleaded.
“I will on one condition,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Call off your hounds. I am weary of being hunted. I know you ordered them to find me. Stop it. I am trying to help you. I am loyal to you, Maia. Only to you.”
Maia frowned at him. “You murdered my parents.”
He shrugged, looking unconcerned. Then his gaze sharpened. “Your father was going to murder you. I could not allow that. I would not allow that.”
“I will abandon the search for you,” she said. “I promise. Right now, it is more important to begin evacuating the city.”
“To where?” he grunted contemptuously. “Muirwood? That place is even more vulnerable than the palace. True, the swamp will slow Corriveaux’s army down, but the outcome is inevitable. They will bring enough drunk Naestors to do the job, my lady. They will not give you a moment’s reprieve. I have fought in a war band. That is how I got this,” he said, gesturing to his severed ear.
Maia did not want to confirm his hunch, but she sensed he already knew. “The abbey will defend us,” she said firmly.
He bit back a laugh. “As you say. Now for my second condition. You are not safe. Corriveaux is determined to butcher you. If you fall, so does the realm. Your guards could not protect you from me, let alone another kishion sent to murder you. I want Tayt by your side during the day. Do not leave his sight. I will guard you at night. We will take turns watching over you, as we used to do. No more hiding in Muirwood at night.” He leaned back against the wall by the window, folding his arms. “Those are my demands. I know you will keep your word if you promise me something.” His lip quivered with a suppressed smile.
Maia knew she did not have time to argue. Besides, what he said made sense. “You will go with us when we abandon the city?” she probed.
He nodded. “You do not always see me when I am near you, Maia.”
She felt a mix of dread and reassurance at the thought. He had been part of her life for a while now. They had shared many experiences. Despite her complete disapproval of his choices, she cared for him as a friend. Still, she was concerned about the look she saw in his eyes when he looked at her. She thought about Collier, so very far away, and wished again that she could see him.
“Very well,” she said, wondering if she would come to regret her decision.
Maia found the palace in an uproar. Every guardsman, servant, and guest was frantically searching the grounds for her. When she was discovered walking in from a remote part of the castle, there was a gush of relief. Suzenne, who had taken part in the search effort all night, burst into relieved tears upon seeing her. No one from Claredon had seen her enter the abbey the previous night, and concern for her had risen to a fever pitch when a man was found dead in the corridor connecting the palace with the abbey wall. Maia called an emergency meeting of the Privy Council and explained exactly what had happened and her new understanding with the kishion. She would not go back on her word.
The lord mayor was ordered to summon the city watch and begin a manhunt for Corriveaux. Searching both sides of the river—as well as every boat in the harbor—would be arduous, and Maia was far from certain Corriveaux was still in the city, but she did not want to make it easy for him to walk into her kingdom with impunity. After all, the Dochte Mandar had been expelled from the kingdom, which was one law of her father’s she did not plan to change. She warned Justin that Corriveaux had a habit of traveling with men who impersonated soldiers from whatever realm he was infiltrating, and requested that a watchword be created to help identify friend from foe. She also sent word to Muirwood to summon the Aldermaston’s steward to Comoros. The Privy Council would prepare to implement the evacuation plans immediately.
It was a long and difficult day, and Maia could not banish the kishion from her thoughts. She had summoned Jon Tayt after the council meeting to tell him what the kishion had demanded of her. Jon Tayt had frowned fiercely, and his anger toward the kishion had barely cooled by nightfall. He insisted on going everywhere with her, and she found his constant companionship a reminder of the voyage they had made together.
Later that day, as Maia ate in her private chambers, Suzenne arrived with Doctor Bend to report on the condition of the Prince of Hautland. The night before, Prince Oderick had come down with a mild fever. During the day, the fever had grown rapidly, and other symptoms had manifested themselves. He was isolated from all but his most loyal servants, who refused to leave his side but still pressed linen napkins to their mouths whenever they stood near him. The doctor’s report made Maia cringe, and she found she could not finish her meal. Jon Tayt happily devoured it.
As soon as the doctor had left, Suzenne came over to her and whispered in her ear.
“I know you are tired, Maia, but there is one person who came after nightfall for an audience with you. I tried to find out what she wants, but she says she will only tell you.” Suzenne pulled back and looked into Maia’s eyes. “It is Maeg Baynton. She claims it is important Cipher business.”
Maia looked at Suzenne in concern. She had not given much thought to her erstwhile enemy Maeg, who had tormented her while they were studying at Muirwood together. She was the daughter of the dead sheriff of Mendenhall. Maia had heard nothing about her since they had both left the abbey—she had been too consumed with the troubles of her kingdom to worry about a girl who could not stand her.
Maia felt an oncoming sigh. “She will not tell you?”
Suzenne shook her head. “Should I have her wait until tomorrow?”
“No,” Maia said, touching her friend’s arm. “Send her in.”
After Suzenne left, Maia shot a worried glance at Jon Tayt.
“I remember the lass,” he said candidly. “Pretty face. Mean as a cat whose tail was run over by a cart.”
Maia stifled a smile as the door to her private room opened and Suzenne ushered Maeg inside. She shut the door after the girl, leaving her alone with Maia and Jon Tayt.
The gown Maeg wore was instantly and painfully familiar. It marked her as one of the servants of Lady Shilton. Maia herself had eventually been given a gown after the same fashion. She had worn it on the Blessing of Burntisland. She had worn it while facing the lost abbey. She had worn it across Dahomey and into Mon. Seeing Maeg wear a similar gown made her draw up short.
“You serve Lady Shilton?” Maia asked in surprise.
“Yes,” Maeg said, fidgeting with her skirts. She looked uncomfortable . . . no, she looked terror-stricken. Her eyes were haunted.
“What is it?” Maia asked, rising to her feet and walking toward the other girl. “What has happened?”
“I tried to come earlier,” Maeg said, her voice low and soft. She glanced around the room surreptitiously. “We are truly alone except for the hunter?”
M
aia felt a spasm of fear. “Yes. Suzenne said you wanted to tell me something. Why could you not share the truth with her?”
The suggestion made Maeg look even more miserable, if it were possible. “Because it concerns her as well, and she was my friend once . . . before she was yours.”
“Tell me,” Maia said softly, stroking the girl’s arm. “I am not your enemy, Maeg.”
Maeg tried to laugh but could not. She sighed, mastered her emotions with apparent difficulty, and continued. “I did find a position after Muirwood,” she said. Smoothing the skirts of her gown, she continued, “with Lady Shilton. Aldermaston Joanna . . . she encouraged it discreetly, believing it would help you to have a Cipher in that household.” She paused and stared down at the ground for a moment before speaking again. “My apparent dislike of you, Your Majesty, actually helped me earn the position.”
Maia tried to listen patiently, but she could sense the news would be terrible. “Go on.”
“Just before the Hautlander ships arrived, a ship from Dahomey came.” Maia’s heart flinched, and she tried to keep her expression guarded. “Secret visitors entered Lady Shilton’s manor. One was a man, a Dochte Mandar. He bore a Dahomeyjan name . . . Corriveaux . . . and he seemed to know Lady Shilton.” Maeg swallowed, fidgeting more. “There were other men with him . . . dangerous men. Men that made me shudder. They guarded the house, and no one was allowed in or out during his visit. They gave something to Lady Murer. At first I thought it was just a necklace . . . but Maia, it was a kystrel.” Fear flashed in her eyes. “I watched her summon its power. Her eyes glowed silver. I have never been so frightened.”
“By Idumea,” Maia whispered in horror.
Corriveaux had taken from her the kystrel that Chancellor Walraven had given her. It was full of Maia’s memories and fears and emotions. She knew, without being told, that this was the same kystrel he had given to Murer.
“That was before they took Lady Murer,” Maeg added.
“What? They took her?”
Maeg’s fidgeting worsened. “I know where they went. Lady Murer . . . you should have heard her boast of it. As soon as she put on the kystrel, she changed. She had been miserable since losing her position. She would mourn and then rage about it often. Once she had the kystrel, she became imbued with power. She wants revenge against you and anyone close to you.” Maeg gave Maia an imploring look and took her hand. “Murer went north. She is going to destroy Dodd’s army and burn Billerbeck Abbey. And she plans to ruin your relationship . . . with the King of Dahomey. She left two days ago. I tried to escape, but the house has been guarded until today. Corriveaux returned this morning, alone, and took the others with him and fled the city. I cannot go back there, Maia. They will know I betrayed them. They will kill me.”
Maia stared into the other girl’s eyes, into the well of conviction and despair she saw there, and then looked over at Jon Tayt. “Your strongest army is in the north,” he said, his own gaze full of wrath. “He will hold his own, by Cheshu. He better.”
But Maia could not bear to tell him what she knew about the powers of a kystrel. And if Murer’s goal was to travel to Dahomey, it meant only one thing.
Her stepsister Murer was turning into a hetaera.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Burning
It was nearing midnight when Lady Shilton and her household arrived at the palace under guard. Maia was weary, but she dared not sleep. Guards roamed the corridors and the city was restive and uneasy. Some families had abandoned their homes during the day, and more were beginning to trickle out.
Maia waited impatiently in the solar with Jon Tayt as her silent companion. It was the room where she had met her father the night he had sent her to seek the lost abbey. It was full of memories. She was heartsick from the knowledge that her impulsive, selfish stepsister was on the loose . . . and that she was likely wearing Maia’s former kystrel. The power the kystrel contained was enormous, and she had no doubt that Murer would not exercise the restraint Chancellor Walraven had always encouraged in her. After Maeg left, Maia had shared her news with Suzenne. The look on her friend’s face would haunt her nights for weeks to come. Suzenne trusted Dodd’s integrity, but she did not trust him completely against the power of a kystrel wielded by a jealous woman. While Lady Shilton had never implied Dodd would be a target for revenge, Maia and Suzenne knew the ways of the hetaera. With a face chalk white with dread, Suzenne had begged to go to Claredon Abbey to travel by Apse Veil to Billerbeck to warn Dodd about the invasion. She had left hours before, and there was still no sign of her.
The guards at the door announced the arrival of Lady Shilton. Richard had already interrogated her in his tower, and he accompanied her now. The woman looked frightened, her nerves frayed. Dark smudges marked the flesh under her eyes, and there was a guilty look about her.
Maia’s mind swarmed with memories of the hostility and abuse she had received from this woman. It nearly overwhelmed her, and she could not keep a disapproving frown from her mouth. She reined in her feelings, knowing that the dark memories would only foster more ill will between them. Instead, she forced herself to remember the night Lady Shilton had at last showed her compassion by giving her a new gown and trying to help ease her pain. Of course, Maia had been poisoned that same night, but she had survived that ordeal. She reminded herself that this woman’s daughter had been executed. The fall from grace must have been painful.
“Your Maj . . . esty summoned me,” Lady Shilton said in a tremulous voice.
Maia had been fidgeting all night and could not bear to sit down. Anxious to keep herself moving so fatigue would not drag her down, she approached her one-time jailer. “Lady Shilton,” she said with a nod. The woman looked haunted . . . fearful.
“I wish to plead for a life,” Lady Shilton said, coming forward and dropping to her knees. “You may do what you will with me, but I beg you to spare my granddaughter.”
Richard stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. “Before you beg for mercy, Lady Shilton, it would be best if you shared with the queen what you confessed to me this evening.”
Lady Shilton trembled and looked at the hand on her shoulder with abhorrence. She twisted her neck to gaze up at Richard Syon.
It did not escape Maia’s notice that Jon Tayt seemed about ready to spit on the hem of the woman’s dress. He sat by the window seat, holding a mug, and sipped from it slowly. He remained quiet and unobtrusive.
Lady Shilton wrung her hands.
“Please,” Maia said, reaching down and helping the older woman stand. “Sit at the table. Would you like something to drink?” The main table had plenty of empty chairs. Jon Tayt sat by the window overlooking the black night sky.
The woman allowed Maia to help her rise, and she cringed at the compassion being shown to her by the girl she had so mistreated. “Nothing,” she answered, shaking her head curtly. She retreated to the offered chair and sat, tucking some stray wisps of hair behind her ear. Her face was lined from age, but she still tried to maintain the illusion of youth through the fashion of her hair and the rouge on her cheeks.
Maia sat adjacent to her and then took her hand and patted it comfortingly. Richard sat in a chair opposite her and folded his hands on the table before him. He watched her sternly.
Lady Shilton trembled. A few fat tears pooled in her eyes. They quivered and hung on her lashes, and only did not fall because of the great force of her will. “I am guilty,” she whispered hoarsely. “I have always . . . hated you. Because you were so good. I thought you would succumb. Even a dog flinches from its master if it is beaten enough.”
Jon Tayt stifled a grunt, earning a look of misery from Lady Shilton.
“And yet you persisted despite my efforts to humiliate and destroy you. I . . . I am a traitor to Comoros. I deserve to die. But I am still a grandmother, and I love my own family.” She looked down at the table, trying to master the courage to speak. “I was a maston, you know. I studied at Billerbeck, but was not allowe
d to read. I was always so tempted by the forbidden knowledge. I did everything I could to steal glances at tomes. I was ambitious, so I resented the Aldermaston who prevented me from learning. I knew that the Medium brings you your thoughts. If you want it enough. If you demand it.” She hung her head. “I was a fool.”
Richard cleared his throat. “The hour is late, Lady Shilton. Tell her.”
Maia stared at the older woman curiously, wondering what dreadful secrets were finally releasing from her scabbed heart.
“I began to befriend some of the Dochte Mandar,” Lady Shilton said. “I wanted to know why women were forbidden to read. They toyed with me. Toyed with my emotions, I think. They told me I would be taught if I gave up my child to learn as well. I was married by that time, joined to a man I did not love. Deorwynn was our only child. When she came of age, I was told to send her to Dahomey for her maston training. They promised me that one day she would become queen. I thought perhaps they meant she would be Queen of Dahomey, but I realized later that it was Comoros she was fated to rule. She was taken in by a strong-willed man, a man whom I later realized was a Victus. His name was Corriveaux Tenir. They became lovers. He inspired her with ambition. He corrupted her heart as the Dochte Mandar had corrupted mine. She ruined your father, who was a faithful maston at the time.”
Maia’s heart burned with anger. She thought of Collier and found it difficult to keep the look of fury from her face.
“Your daughter was loyal to the Victus,” Maia said. “That I know. What of Murer?”
“She was to become a hetaera if you failed to become,” Lady Shilton said, her voice low. “They were grooming you, you see. There is power gained in suffering, and after a time, I realized the Victus were using my family to shape you and make you strong. I feared what you would do to us when you came to power. But I was too compromised. And you failed to accept the fate they had fashioned for you. That left me with the hope that the Victus would choose my granddaughter to fulfill your destiny. Not just to become Queen of Comoros, but to become empress of all the kingdoms. You see, Murer is Corriveaux’s daughter. She is strong willed and subtle, like her father. She is wiser than her own mother, always playing the innocent. In truth, she knew Deorwynn was losing her station, and she did not want to lose her own in the rubble. Murer came to me after your coronation. She has been secretly communing with her father through a Leering in my manor house.” Lady Shilton started to wring her hands again. “He arrived and gave her your kystrel. For a hetaera to achieve her greatest power, she must first betray someone she loves. She was interested in the King of Dahomey and he spurned her. For you. Murer will seek your lover in Dahomey, but first she will burn Billerbeck Abbey. That will be the signal for the armada to land in the north and begin the invasion. As you send your troops there to fight, the second wave of ships will strike in the west, in Caspur’s Hundred. Their goal is to trap you in Comoros before you can flee to Muirwood with your people.”
