The Blight of Muirwood (40 page)

“Stop!” Colvin warned, squeezing her hand and pulling her. They had almost ran into a tree. Her chest was burning with the run, but the fear had not diminished. It was getting worse. Even after they stopped, the sound of crashing and stamping continued. There was a growl and a huff in the fog behind them. The size of it sent shudders through her.

Colvin spun around, sticking his sword tip into the dirt at his feet. He raised his arm in the maston sign. It brought back all of her memories of the Abbey – the feelings of safety, the chaen that she wore. She set down her bow and mimicked the sign.

“We are mastons, Lia,” he said hoarsely. “We hold dominion over this world and any creature from it. Do you believe that?”

“Yes,” she said, almost sobbing with fear.

Colvin jutted out his jaw. The sound of the pursuit slowed. A snuffling noise came through the mist. As Lia watched, a hulking shadow could be seen in the fog.

“We are mastons,” Colvin told her bracingly. “We will leave the mountains in peace. It will sense that, Lia. It will sense our intentions. Hold your hand steady. Show no fear.”

She clenched her teeth, wanting nothing more than to pick up her bow and send a shaft into it. But what damage would her arrows do to something so big? Even Colvin’s sword seemed like a pitiful weapon.

Lia struggled to subdue her panic. The creature hesitated just beyond the pale of vision. A low growl came from its mouth. A snuffling noise that disturbed the air like a wheezing hiss. The mist concealed it, showing only a shadow of its bulk. A smell of rottenness and decay flowed into her nose and mouth. She gagged.

Colvin stood firm, hand in the air, willing it to depart. She could feel his thoughts pressing from his eyes, exuding from his entire body. He was the master of the situation, not the beast. It must pay homage to him. Lia’s courage was bolstered by his. She also sent her thoughts at it, demanding it to depart. Together, their intent shuddered the air.

All at once, the mist began to lift. It did not reveal the creature. It was gone.

Relief swelled inside her chest. After waiting a moment more, they fetched their weapons. When they turned, they saw the mountainside ended abruptly off a jagged cliff, not a dozen paces more from where they had stopped. Lia gasped and clutched at Colvin’s tunic. Had they continued their blind charge down the mountain, they would have run directly over it. The clearing mist revealed the danger.

It also revealed an Abbey nestled in the crags below.

* * *

It was an Abbey hidden in the mountains. It was not the same size as Muirwood. It was more squat and square, rising with a steeple towards the jagged cliffs that dwarfed it. They approached from the rear, and from the mountainside Lia could see the cloister hidden in its shadow, with several small buildings connected with stone and mortar representing the different abodes for crafts. What struck her eyes immediately was the fact that she could not see anyone roaming the grounds. There were no learners walking between the cloister. In fact, it looked overgrown. The grounds were lush and thick, not trimmed by sickles. Wildflowers grew throughout the expanse. It looked abandoned. There was, however, smoke rising from the hall of the main manor, outside the Abbey walls. There was also a small garden, blocked off by rings of stone where vegetables and fruit trees grew. It was a small patch, though. Quail and deer trespassed across the grounds. She studied the scene, watching closely.

“The ruins of Tintern Abbey. This
must
be Tintern. What do you make of it?” Colvin asked, crouching low next to her.

“My first thought was it is abandoned like the farms from yesterday, but there is a small garden which looks as if it is tended. And the smoke. This does not make sense. Look how the ivy has crawled on the walls. Normally the servants would have cut it down. Perhaps this is where Martin has taken her, a place hidden where people would not see her. I want to see that garden up close before we decide what to do. It does not make sense to me that there is a garden here. Who would be tending it if the Abbey is abandoned?”

Colvin nodded and together they stayed low and crept down the final incline, moving from tree shadow to tree shadow to disguise their approach. Other than the thin plume of smoke from the main chimney, there was no other sign of life manifested. How curious, Lia thought. Tintern Abbey itself was carved out of a reddish stone, and it was probably half the size of Muirwood. The thick woods of the mountains provided the necessary cover and they both approached the garden from the outside. The wall was high enough that deer would not be able to vault it. Colvin helped Lia over first and she dropped to a low crouch, watching for any sign of movement. Colvin followed with a soft thud, also dropping low.

The garden was thick with vegetables, cut into even rows and tethered by stakes and strings. The earth was a rich black loam and Lia pulled a massive carrot from it that was nearly as thick as her wrist. A small patch of strawberries, shrewberries, and blueberries grew along the wall, each with full ripe fruit. Lia snatched one of the strawberries and bit into it. The juice was sweet and tender, perfectly ripe. She stared around, amazed, for the harvest season was over. Juice dribbled down her chin and she mopped it with the back of her hand.

“Look,” Colvin pointed out in a low voice. In the center of each wall segment on three sides were Leerings carved into the stone. They exuded such quiet power, she had not recognized their presence. They were ancient stones, worn away by storm and snow. “Do you recognize the feeling?” he asked her.

It took a moment, and she did. “The apple tree in Maderos’ garden. I remember it now. Even though it wasn’t the right season, there were apples growing on the tree. I think the purpose of these Leerings is to preserve food.”

Colvin nodded. “So maybe the Abbey is truly abandoned. What does the orb do? Does it point towards the manor house?”

She withdrew the Cruciger orb and held it in her hand. The orb spun lazily and pointed directly at the manor house. Writing appeared on the orb. Excitement burned inside her. Ellowyn was inside. She was certain of it. Looking up at the sky, she noticed the sun starting its downward slope. She did not relish the thought of returning to the mountains in the dark.

“Maybe they are sleeping,” Lia suggested. “Now might be the right moment to free her.”

He sat down and snapped a few blueberries off the bush. He ate them slowly, his eyes deep and serious. “I wonder how many men there are.”

Lia sat next to him, grabbing a few of her own. Their shoulders touched. “I wish there was a way we could find out.”

Almost as the thought left her mouth, she heard something. It was the sound of a door shutting. The garden had a low wall, but it was not low enough that they would not be seen if someone walked nearby. Thankfully, there were several fruit trees in the enclosure and Lia and Colvin moved quickly through the growth and hid behind the thick mass of leaves and apricots and plums. She snatched a few and stuffed them into her rucksack, listening to the sound of approaching footsteps. She heard two sets. Craning her neck, she stared towards the manor house.

The first person she observed was a tall, thin man wearing the gray cassock of an Aldermaston but with a dirt-smeared smock over it. There was a pocket in the front of the smock and some wooden-handled objects protruded from it. He was much younger than the Aldermaston of Muirwood, and like Martin had plenty of gray in his dark beard. His hair was thicker, combed instead of untidy. He walked with a serious step, heading towards the gardens, speaking softly to the person beside him. There she was, head slightly bowed – Ellowyn Demont.

* * *

“The mind that is anxious about the future is miserable.”

- Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey

* * *

Colvin approached so quietly, she was startled when she felt his breath against her ear.

“I can hardly believe it,” he whispered. “The Medium has brought her out to us.”

As the Aldermaston and Ellowyn approached, their voices could finally be heard. The Aldermaston had a soft voice, one that was slow and rich and full of tenderness. “Are you cold? Do you need a shawl?”

“No, I am quite comfortable,” was Ellowyn’s meek reply.

“I told you, child, that no one will make you marry against your will. You fear something that will not happen. You looked so uncomfortable in there, I thought some air might do you good. Or would you rather be back inside with the men?”

“No,” Ellowyn said, a bit hastily. She glanced back at the manor house and hastened a step. “I would rather be with you. You speak my language. At least…I can understand what you are saying.”

“I would like you to see my vineyard. The fruit is not ripe yet, so it needs pruning. Will you help me?”

“I do not know what to do,” Ellowyn demurred.

“I will show you. It is this way, past the garden.” Their voices faded as they passed the wall and trailed off as they crossed a screen of overgrown alders. Lia could not imagine their luck. No, it was past luck. It was the Medium, as Colvin said. They looked at each other.

“We cannot take her by force,” Lia said.

Colvin nodded. “I agree.”

Lia rubbed her mouth thoughtfully. “Then I will try and persuade him to let her go. It will be dark before long. This is our chance to free her. I feel…I must be the one to speak to him.” She looked down at the Cruciger orb, at the writing still shimmering on its surface. “He will be able to read this.”

Colvin reached out, touching her hand. He nodded in encouragement.

Holding the orb before her, she silently crossed the garden and slipped over the wall, following the direction they went. As she drew closer, she could hear their voices again, deep in conversation. After crossing the sentinels of alder trees, she saw row after row of stakes and trellises of a vineyard. The vines were thick, the broad leaves fat and green, the grapes a deep purple color. The sun was slanting down in the western sky, retreating towards the mountain peaks.

“Why do you cut away so many grapes?” Ellowyn asked.

Lia could not see them, but she could hear them well enough and saw the vines trembling with their movement. She crept forward soundlessly.

“The vines produce more fruit than they have strength to ripen,” the Aldermaston answered. “Slice along the stem, like this. Let me show you. See? A little nick is all it takes and the fruit falls. Collect them in your apron.”

“But which ones do I cut? Which do I spare?”

“You can guess, of course. That is one way to do it. But I use the Medium to tell me which to cut. It knows which fruit will be the sweetest at the time of harvest. Those are the ones we want to save. Look at this cluster. See how tight they are together? If we did nothing to prune it, the ones in the middle will become misshapen. There are too many here. The whole cluster will be sour. But if we cut, here and here…” Lia edged closer and she could hear the fruit fall with little thumps. “Then the rest will grow and all will be sweet.”

“You prune the entire vineyard?” Ellowyn asked timidly.

“Yes. The harvest is worth the work. You could eat these now, but they would not be sweet enough. Culling is an important process. Look at this grape. It will be a strong one. Like you. When it fully ripens.”

“The Medium does not listen to me,” Ellowyn said softly. “I mean…I cannot even hear it. It is my fault.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because I am always fearful. Everything I have been told, the things you have told me, it frightens me to death. I did not realize how severe the Blight will be. I wish I could have warned my friends before it was too late for them. Before all the Abbeys have fallen.”

“Have you ever seen a forest burn, child?”

“I have not.”

“There is nothing left but char and ash. Everything left behind is soulless and void. There is nothing living – or at least that is how it seems. But from the ashes and from the char, new seeds sprout and grow. The forest renews itself. It takes time, but it happens. There is both good and evil in this world. If we did not intervene here, the grapes would all turn wild. They would all become sour, you see. The Blight is merely a culling. A chance for a rebirth. Let me compare what I told you about the Abbeys burning to the vines that have grown so wild and unruly, so untamed that only fire will cleanse the land to begin anew. The Medium curses and blesses. The Blight that is coming…it will destroy everything, much like the fire in the woods I mentioned. After the Abbeys are razed, the Blight will come. That is why you must go far from here – to a land of safety. In the ships.”

“Where the other Pry-rians have gone,” Ellowyn stated simply. “It is far across the sea. Do you know where?”

“No. I will not be going, you see.”

“But why? If you know the Blight is coming, why cannot you leave as you warn others to?”

Lia could hear the little snips and cuts and fruit fall into the apron. “Because I am an Aldermaston. Tintern is my Abbey, my responsibility, my home. Until another comes to release me, I cannot leave it. One who has authority to do so. And I must stay to warn others. To give them a chance to escape before it is too late. Before the last ships sails.”