The Blight of Muirwood (37 page)

Dieyre muttered under his breath. “The last thing Pry-Ree needs is another war. This makes no sense.”

“Perhaps not to us,” Colvin agreed, “but their motives are different than ours.”

“They are a rash and faithless people. They got what they wanted without Demont’s help. The heir of Pry-Ree has returned. Now the entire country will burn for it.”

“Why do you say that?” Edmon asked from the doorway, still watching the woods.

“Do not be stupid, York. I know that is difficult for you, but try and keep up.”

Lia bristled at the condescending attitude, but Colvin’s voice was patient. “She is a prize that many will fight over. I am sure a reward will be offered for her return. One large enough to tempt even Pry-rians to betray her. No matter where they keep her, someone will tell. Or someone will try and kill her.” He shook his head and sighed.

Lia felt a twinge of pity for him, but she had already decided on the best course of action. “That is our advantage,” she offered quietly. “They are not far ahead of us.” She rose and folded her arms. “I will bring her back. I speak Pry-rian. I can cross tomorrow morning after the boatman has rested and find her.”

Dieyre looked at her, startled. “There are eight soldiers. I know you are clever and brave, but you are still but a girl. Their leader is the master who trained you, if I remember it right. You will be caught.”

“I have to try,” Lia said.

Colvin looked up at her, eyes wide with amazement. “You would go?”

She looked him in the eye and nodded curtly.

“I was not going to ask that of you. I had already made up my mind to go.”

“What?” Dieyre said with a choking laugh. “You cannot be serious, Forshee!”

“Colvin, no!” Marciana said, her face suddenly flaming with worry. “It is a wild country. The Blight is there. I have heard stories. Serpents and other poisonous things. The land cannot be tamed.”

“Ciana is right,” Dieyre went on. “Brave, yes, but also the height of foolishness. Our kingdom subjugated theirs. They have not forgotten it, you know. When any of our knights fall into their hands, they are murdered cruelly. They
hate
us, Forshee. I am not sure that word is strong enough to describe their feelings. Even with your personal allegiance to Demont, they would see you as less than a dog in their home country.”

Lia was not aware of the hatred, but she agreed with Dieyre. “I will go. If there is any way I can bring her back, I will. Catching her now will be easier than it will be later. I can find her with the orb. I can do this alone.”

Colvin looked at her. “Yes, you can do it. I have no doubt. But I will go with you.”

She shook her head. “I cannot accept that.”

Dieyre watched them with fascination. “He is considering it. I cannot believe it! You are daft! This is as close to Pry-Ree as I would ever dare go without ten thousand soldiers at my back.”

Colvin rose to his feet, his face flushed with anger. “I know it means little to you, but I swore an oath to protect her. To guard her life with my own. It is my obligation. How can I go back and face Demont? I must do everything in my power to save her, use any means available to me. That is what loyalty means, Dieyre. Loyalty binds me. I must go after her. If Lia can find her, I can help free her.”

“Colvin,” Marciana said in a pleading voice. “I do not want you to go. Think of the danger. I know you feel your duty here, but please. You are an Earl of the realm. You have duties to Demont. He needs you right now.”

“Listen to her,” Dieyre said, folding his arms. “You will not last two days in Pry-Ree. They will kill you.” But his expression made it seem that he secretly wanted Colvin to go.

“I must try,” Colvin said, looking at Marciana. “Edmon can take you to Bridgestow. I will meet you there when this is done. It is a stronghold for Demont. Either way, he needs to know what happened to his niece.” He sighed deeply. “If I am only to survive two days there, then we must go and return that quickly.” He looked into Lia’s eyes hopefully. “Will you take me?”

Lia wrestled with her feelings. Should she insist on going alone? She knew how stubborn he could be. He had already made up his mind. If anyone could keep him safe in Pry-Ree, she knew that it was her with the orb. Just as she had done before.

“We had better rest now,” she replied. “We will get little there.”

The boatman’s name was Pen-Ilyn. He was strong but not as hulking as Lia expected him to be – about the same size and build as Colvin. He was talkative in a way that made her seem as tight-lipped as Sowe. He and his wife shared in tales and business as he rowed, back straight, muscles churning the oars with regular repetition. After learning his family had been attacked by Dahomeyjan knights, he was in no mood to leave them behind, but brought the family on board as he rowed. Better to lose any of the trinkets in the house than to lose any of his precious brood. He spat and cursed the Queen Dowager’s name and her foreign ways.

Lia and Colvin sat in the prow of the boat as it sliced through the waters towards the distant shore of Pry-Ree. With Pen-Ilyn unable to stop talking, they had no time to speak quietly among themselves. Her rucksack was propped next to her, bulging with food and a blanket. Colvin had purchased clothes from the boatman and looked more like a commoner than a noble from court. He had not shaved in several days, so he wore the beginnings of a beard, reminding her of their trek to Winterrowd. She even studied the puckered scar at his eyebrow and felt the forbidden urge to touch it. Blushing, she looked away.

Pen-Ilyn turned his head and spoke louder. He had an accent, but he spoke both languages well. “There is a little island called Steep Holm in the waters over yon. Some think it is Pry-rian shores, but it is not. If I am getting weary, or if there is a storm, I shelter there until it passes. If I wanted to, I could row to Pry-Ree and back twice each day. It is not so much as being strong as it is not getting tired. If you keep a steady pull on the oars, it becomes a rhythm, like a flute. I wish I could flute and row at the same time, but I cannot.”

“If you fluted, papa, who would pull the oars?” asked his oldest daughter, Blodyn.

“Which is an excellent question. How about you blow the flute for me, lass, and I will do the pulling. Sometimes my girls make the journey with me, if their mother can spare them. I usually only make one trip each day. There are folk who know the Bridgestow road and they know where I am. The sheriff calls now and then, but he thinks I am fishing. Even though I do not have any nets. I could buy some nets. I wonder if the fishing is any better?”

Lia looked at Colvin who looked as if he had a headache from the constant talking.

“Where are we going?” Lia asked. “Is there a town?”

“I cannot say with any certainty which direction they were off to, but the hamlet across the water is called Enarth. The larger town is Caerdeth. It is the port that trades with Bridgestow. There is a garrison castle where the sheriff lives. He stays indoors mostly because he fears an arrow lodging in his neck. That happens sometimes in Pry-Ree. Maybe they went to the castle first. It is not a far walk from Enarth.”

Colvin smirked. She doubted Martin would take Ellowyn to one of the king’s castles in Pry-Ree. Pen-Ilyn talked more about flutes, the wool trade, tax collectors, sheriffs, the price of Muirwood cider, fishing, storms, as well as family members. Before long, Lia’s mind wandered back on the morning as they departed. The images of the moment were still fresh in her mind, her feelings powerful. Marciana clutching Colvin in a tight hug, tears running down her cheeks as she said goodbye. She had received a hug herself that nearly choked her with intensity and a whispered, “Do not let anything happen to him!” Edmon was not his usual self. The acid tongue of Dieyre had frightened away his amiable nature. Edmon stood resolutely on the shore, promising Colvin he would see his sister safely to Bridgestow. As they left, Marciana crying on Edmon’s shoulder, Dieyre regarding them with a mixture of odd sympathy and jealousy. He waved to Colvin, offering thinly veiled advice on how to stay warm at night. Lia blushed with rage, but she held her tongue, recollecting just how tactless Dieyre was. Lia watched them mount horses as the oars dipped into the choppy water, saw them pose near the shoreline and wave. Edmon would return with fresh mounts and men from Bridgestow and await their return after Marciana was safe away.

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.”