The Ciphers of Muirwood (19 page)

Suzenne shook her head. “He is still angry with Maia. What he believes about her is false.”

Jon Tayt shrugged. “A fool is born every minute. Most of them live. Whitsunday is almost upon us. The dice are being cast. This is no time to make foolish errors.”

Maia nodded to Jon Tayt and started to pace the room. She cleared her mind of all its troubles and tried to seek the Medium’s will. She paused by the fire and stared into the flames, her eyes meeting the red-hot eyes in the carved face of the Leering. There was no wood in the hearth. Nothing to consume. Yet the fire was real, just as water Leerings gave off real water. Such simple yet undeniable evidence of the Medium’s power. Why could Collier not see it?

She closed her eyes, drawing into herself, listening for the whispers from the Medium.

There was nothing.

Her emotions were in turmoil, but as she breathed deeply, they were slowly calming. The Aldermaston had taught her that she needed to be still, to be small within herself, to be open to the Medium’s guidance.

Still, there was nothing.

She opened her eyes and stared at the flames again, feeling the heat on her cheeks and smelling the soot and ash so near. She rea
soned it out in her mind. Jon Tayt was right. It was political and likely
personal suicide to give Collier her confession. She had not begged or pleaded with him. She had not tried to soothe him or stroke his
vanity. She had merely wanted to be honest with him at last. To speak
the truth, even if some of that truth would wound him.

She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the stone wall above the hearth. The stone was pulsing with warmth. She had betrayed him so many times. How could he ever trust her again?

She opened her eyes wide.

What better way to win his trust than to make herself vulnerable? To give him a weapon to hurt her with? He might use it as such. He had already injured her repeatedly with his words in the garden. Though they had been spoken in anger, justifiable anger, they had still hurt. Let him see her remorse in the letter she had written after coming to Muirwood. Let him know her for who she truly was, not the illusion. If he turned from her then, at least he would be turning from
her
.

Her resolve hardened. She turned away from the hearth, feeling some of the fire still in her eyes.

“Thank you both for your counsel,” she said. She had decided. She waited to see if the Medium would contradict her. She felt nothing but the iron of her determination. “Please bring my letter to Collier, Jon Tayt. Tonight. Right now.”

The hunter frowned. “How about I let him read it and then I make sure it is cast into the fire? That would be more cautious.”

She shook her head. “No. I want him to keep it. He is still my husband.”

An ancient Aldermaston once said this, which has helped me tame the feelings that offense inspires: When you are offended at any man’s fault, turn to yourself and study your own failings. Then you will forget your anger.

—Richard Syon, Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The
Holk

T
he Aldermaston’s kitchen was frantic in preparation for Whitsunday. There were trays of sweet rolls, platters full to brimming with delights. The two kitchen helpers were dusted with flour and despite the long hours, they were both giddy with excitement for the upcoming festival. Every day brought news, wagons, and people from throughout the realm come to celebrate Whitsunday with the king. Beyond the abbey walls, tents were springing up like an army camp as hosts began to arrive.

“They have not put up the maypole yet,” Aloia said to Maia, scraping the side of a bowl with her spoon. Davi came and dipped her littlest finger into the bowl over the other girl’s shoulder to snitch a taste. “Davi!” Aloia whined.

“Of course they have not put up the maypole yet,” said the other girl. “It will be hung the day before. Oh, would that we were fourteen already! You know the maypole dance, do you not?” she asked Maia.

“I do,” Maia replied, smiling, yet her heart stung with pain. Lady Deorwynn had ensured that no one would ask her to dance on her first Whitsunday after coming of age. Now she dreaded the holiday for a different reason. If the Aldermaston did not declare her ready to take the maston test before Whitsunday, the change in Aldermastons might prevent her from taking the test at all.

“Did you see the lists?” Aloia asked Davi, rounding on her excitedly. “There will be jousting! The field is cleared and staked off so that no one can put a tent up near it. Owen said that Captain Carew was practicing there earlier today. He knocked down three knights. No one could unhorse him!”

“Do you know Captain Carew?” Davi asked Maia.

“Yes, I have met him before, but have not seen him for several years.”

“I asked Owen if he was handsome and he did not know what to say,” Aloia confided.

“Of course not. He is a boy. What would he know?”

Maia smiled, finishing her bowl of soup quickly. Suzenne was sharing a meal with Dodd across the kitchen, their heads bent low in conversation.

“He is handsome,” Maia said. “He speaks three languages, and he is good with a bow as well as a blade.”

“Do you think Jon Tayt will win the archery contest?” Aloia asked, eyes wide with interest.

“I do not know,” Maia said. She was about to set the bowl down, but Davi took it from her and went to rinse it.

The sun was lingering longer and longer each day, but Maia could see the dying light beyond. She kept looking at the door every time someone arrived carrying a large sack of milled grain or additional ingredients. All day she had hoped to hear from Collier. Jon Tayt had delivered her letter the previous night, but Collier had coolly dismissed the hunter, refusing to read it in his presence.

“If you girls spent as much time working as you did pining,” Collett said sagely, “we would have been ready for Whitsunday three days ago. Strong minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, weak minds discuss people. Now back to work, you two.” Collett looked at Maia, rolled her eyes in exasperation, and went back to the trestle tables, her hair still tight in its bun despite her daylong efforts. She was a fastidious woman and worked harder and longer than two teams of oxen combined.

The girls sighed and went back to their work, leaving Maia alone with her thoughts for a moment. Her father was coming. She could almost hear, deep in her mind, the sound of hooves, the jangle of spurs, the fluttering of banners. With so many guests arriving at Muirwood, the kitchen had not been much of a refuge. Maia thought about sneaking off to the Queen’s Garden again, hoping to find Collier there, but she had done so earlier to no avail. Soon the entire court would descend on the grounds and there would be no time or space to think.

Maia’s future remained a murky mystery to her. What would it be like to see her father? She wanted to talk to him, but she was also afraid of him—afraid of who he had become.

The door of the kitchen opened again, and Maia looked up and started with surprise when Captain Carew entered. He was a bull of a man, with freshly cut reddish-brown hair. His nose was prominent, but not ugly, and a dusting of pleasant freckles covered his weather-burned tan. He was indeed a handsome man, one who had, according to rumor, caroused with her father.

He was followed by Collier and three other men, one of whom was Jon Tayt. Collett was quick to scowl at the intruders.

“This is the Aldermaston’s kitchen, not a feeding trough,” she warned. “Your supper will be ready when it is ready.” She walked up, folding her arms imperiously. “I do not have time to fix anything extra when men are hungry.”

Captain Carew smiled and gave her an elegant bow. “My lady cook, I will break the fingers of any man who attempts to snitch your delights before they have paid for them. I was seeking Lady Maia, and I have found her.”

Suzenne and Dodd glanced up. Dodd rose from his seat on a barrel and set his bowl down, looking to Jon Tayt for guidance.

Maia rose too, dusting off her skirts. “You did, Captain.”

He smiled at her. “Your travels have only heightened your beauty, Maia. Well met. Would you walk with me in the Cider Orchard?”

Her stomach twisted, but Jon Tayt looked at her from behind the captain’s shoulders, his eyes narrowing. He nodded subtly.

“It will be dark soon,” Maia said, hedging.

“It will not be a long talk,” Carew said, inclining his head. “We may not have another chance to talk before your father arrives.”

He had a message for her then. She clenched her hands into fists, nodded, and followed the men out of the kitchen. The air was brisk outside, and she felt Collier’s eyes on her, the pressure of his gaze making her cheeks tingle with heat. Argus, who had known better than to enter Collett’s kitchen, wagged his tail and padded up to her as soon as she came outside. She reached down and scratched his head.

“The beast does nothing but growl at me,” Carew said. “I heard he piddled on Crabwell’s boots.” He snorted with laughter. “He will walk on that side of you, if you please.”

Maia said nothing as they crossed the grounds together and approached the dense apple orchard. There were small ladders set about and the workers were busy culling fruit from the low-hanging branches.

As they reached the borders of the trees, Carew turned back to their escort, the two guardsmen who were walking with Tayt and Collier. “Jeppson, over on that end. Rowen, that side. Collier and Tayt—wait here for us.”

Maia hesitated. “We go on alone?”

“Yes, but within their sight,” he answered. “I am here to protect you, Maia, not abduct you. I will not risk the Aldermaston’s wrath. If it even exists,” he added with a chuckle. “Pardon me, I can be irreverent at times. The result of being your father’s companion. We were friends, you know. Have been friends all of our lives. I was there when he wed your mother. We passed the maston test together.” He extended his arm, gallantly, and she took it and entered the grove of apple trees. Glancing back, she saw Collier watching her warily, his expression very neutral and composed.

Carew patted her arm. “Thank you for coming willingly,” he said softly. “What I have to say I must say discreetly. Your father knows you are here, Maia. He sent me deliberately. There are rumors that someone is seeking your life. Someone Lady Deorwynn paid to kill you.”

Maia stiffened.

“Do not be afraid,” Carew said. “It will be difficult since there will be many guests at Muirwood, but you will be watched at all times.” He turned to gaze at her, his expression serious. “You must not come to harm, Lady Maia.”

“If the Medium wills it,” Maia replied. “I do not fear death, Captain. I have been to the land where death was born.”

He sniffed, frowning at her words. “Indeed. The cursed shores?”

She nodded and then stopped. “I think we are far enough. What did you hope to tell me?”

He released her arm and turned to face her. “Crabwell failed to convince you. I thought I would give it a try.”

“You?” Maia challenged.

“Why do you chuckle?”

“You are my father’s boon companion. You are one of his favorites. The last time we met, you attempted to persuade me to renounce my rights of inheritance.”

He held up a finger. “Actually, I did not. I saw you stand up to Crabwell. The little spleen beetle. I am a courtier, Maia. I have no illusions about my station. I was there when you stood up to Crabwell. As you
ought
to have done. I was proud of you, lass. You refused to give up your rights and privileges. How can you give those up? You cannot.” He stepped closer to her, his voice dropping lower. “You are the only one of us to have defied the king and survived. Tomas Morton—dead. Forshee—dead. A host of others—dead. Why did they die? Because of Lady Deorwynn and her vengeance. She is the one poisoning the mind of the king. We thought,” he added surreptitiously, “that she was . . . allied with the Myriad Ones. That she wore a kystrel. Crabwell has an informant in her household, one of her ladies-in-waiting. A maston girl even. She saw Lady Deorwynn bathe not long ago, and she had nary a shadowstain. In the past, some girls from Dahomey were immune to the taint of kystrels, but I do not believe that is the case now. Using that magic leaves its mark. Lady Deorwynn is cunning and ambitious, but she is no het—she is no emissary of evil.”

Maia’s heart was pounding. She wanted to clutch her own bodice more tightly, wondering if Carew suspected her.

His voice was smooth and persuasive. “Yes, you are the only one who has stood up to your father and survived. Your father still
loves
you, Maia.” His eyes glittered with intensity. “He may rage and he may threaten. But he will not kill you. Believe that. You have power over him. No one else does. Listen to me! Crabwell seeks to overthrow Deorwynn and her brood. Who will be the next heir if not you?” He reached out, and she was afraid he would touch her shoulder, but he only set his heavy hand on the curve of her neck. “
You
, Maia. Crabwell is a scheming power-monger.” He snorted. “We all are, myself included. But let me speak plainly to you, girl. Your father seeks to throw down the maston order. He is goaded by Crabwell to seize the wealth and riches of the abbeys. Our treasury is flush, to be sure, but it is not enough to sate Crabwell’s lust for wealth. With enough coin, your father believes he can summon mercenaries to defend us from Hautland. I have been to Hautland, my lady. So has Master Collier.” He shook his head. “We are on the verge of being invaded. Now is not the time to cast aside the old beliefs. I am a terrible maston. I forsook my oaths many years ago. But I still
believe
in it. So do many others. You are here to become a maston yourself. I applaud you! Help us bring down Lady Deorwynn. Help us reclaim your rights by birth. Crabwell has overreached himself. He is tottering and will fall. Another will take his place, but there is only one you . . . and you are the last best chance of convincing your father to do what is right.”

Maia stared into his hazel eyes and saw the deep cunning there. Carew’s approach felt so different than Crabwell’s. So many were scheming for power. So many wished to use her. Though there were no other witnesses, she knew she needed to be careful what she said.

“You are loyal to my father?” Maia asked him pointedly.

“I am. He is my best friend, and he has rewarded me amply for my loyalty.” He dropped his hand. “But he made a terrible mistake when he left your mother. And you, Maia, have suffered for it. I cannot bring your mother back from the dead. I think it is possible to reclaim his soul.”

Maia closed her eyes, wondering what to do, what to say. A sharp feeling of insight came to her. “You disagreed with my father about divorcing my mother, and yet you said nothing. Even when the High Seer pronounced the marriage lawful and the divorce invalid.”

“You are correct,” Carew agreed. “Anyone who spoke against your father’s wishes was severely punished. Look no further than what happened to Forshee.”

“So now that my mother is dead, you are free to speak your conscience? Is that it?”

“Exactly so,” Carew answered. “Accept the truth, lass. He hated your mother at the end.” He shook his head and looked sad. “He rejoiced when he learned of her death.”

“My mother, the lawful Queen of Comoros, was murdered by a kishion in the very heart of the realm,” Maia said with growing indignation. She sought to control her voice, but it trembled with emotion. “Has there been any kind of inquest? Has this kishion been found? Now you say he seeks to kill me. Why are you not hunting him then? You cannot, because you know my
father
hired him! He allowed the man into his realm. Now look at the consequences of that action. Captain, I appreciate the honor of your visit and your intention to keep me safe so you can use me for your own ends as you have so wickedly used my father.” She stepped toward him. “I am not to be bargained with or persuaded. You, sir, are a coward.” Her lip trembled. “You may be fearless on a horse with a lance, or with a sword in the arena. But you have forgotten the tomes, Captain Carew. You have forgotten the words of Ovidius. No maston can hold his virtue too dear, for it is the only thing whose value will ever increase with its cost. Our integrity is never worth so much as when we have parted with our all to keep it.”