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Authors: Jeff Wheeler

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His tone of voice made Maia flinch. He looked frantic, his eyes darting through the crowd for some sign of support. His knights were all disarmed. His Privy Council sported bumps on their heads and bruised, swollen jaws.

“The Medium delivered you into our hands,” Sabine said.

“Your cunning, more like,” he muttered darkly.

“Can you
really
be such a fool, Brannon?” Collier seethed, shaking his head.

The king shot a venomous look at Collier, his eyes full of fury. “Am I
your
hostage now, Gideon?” He turned back to Sabine and Lia. “Tell me what is to be done with me! I have surrendered. What are the terms you require? A ransom? My head? Tell me!”

His look was so terror-stricken that it moved Maia with pity. He was not used to being helpless. Was his brush with imminent death harrowing him so much?

“I will not decide your fate,” Lia said.

“Nor will I,” said Sabine. Both of them turned to Maia. “The Princess of Comoros will decide it.”

A startled shock went through Maia at the pronouncement. She stared at them both in disbelief. Was the decision really hers to make? Both her elder relatives were much wiser than she was. Her father’s eyes widened with surprise, and a smile stretched his mouth.

“Yes!” he breathed excitedly. “Yes, I see the justice in that. She is, after all, my heir. She is of royal blood and of strong lineage.”

“I am your heir?” Maia asked doubtfully, gazing at her father.

“Yes, of course, my child! Crabwell? Crabwell! Get over here!
You will see, Maia, he has already drawn up the act. I came here with
it. I was going to legitimize you this very day, this very Whitsunday.
It is all right there. Crabwell, show her!”

The dusty chancellor approached. “The papers are not
with
me, Your Majesty,” he said, wringing his hands. “They are in my chambers at the inn. I can have them fetched. But I assure you, Lady Maia, that your father speaks the truth. The Privy Council was all in agreement, my dear. With your . . . marriage to the King of Dahomey, it is only suitable and proper that you should receive your inheritance.”

Collier stood by Maia’s side, his eyebrows wrinkling with distrust and contempt. He stared at both of the men with deep suspicion.

“And what is that inheritance?” Maia asked.

Crabwell coughed into his fist. “Ahem, yes, of course you would wonder at that. The act names King Gideon as the new Earl of Dieyre, making him a vassal of the Crown of Comoros in his own right and entitled to all the revenues of that earldom. It provides a dowry of a hundred thousand marks payable from the royal coffers to King Gideon, which will assist you in repaying the debt from your ransom, my lord.” His obsequious smile was revolting.

“Indeed,” Collier said flatly, revealing nothing.

“It could be more,” her father said, his eyes boring into Collier’s. “You are my son-in-law, so you are entitled to other royal honors and favors.” Then he looked at his daughter. “Maia, your banishment has ended. You will have the Hampton estate in Comoros as your own manor . . . it is one of the finest palaces I have. Plus you have possessions in every earldom throughout the realm, including castles. The revenues, Maia, are in excess of fifty thousand marks a year. They are yours this day.”

Maia stepped toward him. “What of the abbeys, Father? What of the Act of Submission?”

He stared at her, his eyes glittering. He waited a moment before speaking, as if considering his words carefully. “I . . . of course . . . repudiate it, Maia. It will be burned immediately, and the abbey lands restored. Only the High Seer can name new Aldermastons.” He nodded briefly to Sabine. “All shall be as it was, Daughter. I have seen the error of my ways. Help teach me repentance.” His lip curled slightly as he said the word. “I do this all in front of witnesses, my Privy Council. You will rule with me, Maia. No act will be passed, no punishment given, without your approval or consent.” He stared at her hard. “You will help to make all decisions for the realm. Will you come home with me, child? Will you aid me with your wisdom and goodness? I need you. You are . . . you are . . . so precious to me.”

Maia glanced at Lia and saw the look of deep distrust on her face, then turned to look at her grandmother, who was staring at her with sympathy.

“It is
your
decision,” Sabine told her softly.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Irrevocare Sigil

M
aia felt the oppressive weight of the moment. Her father, his councillors and knights, even her own husband—they were all more familiar with the ways of the world than she was. She had the sense that one wrong step could plunge her down a steep ravine. Her father’s words still rang in her ears. He had said the very words she most longed to hear, yet a heavy certainty in her gut urged her not to believe him. Actions mattered more than promises. In her studies as a learner at Muirwood, she had discovered many gems of wisdom from the tomes, and one of them flitted into her mind at that moment.
The first duty of a king is to preserve his Crown
.

She was not blind to what her father was doing. He would make any promise that would secure him his freedom. And then he would betray her as he had so many times in the past.

Maia stared at him, feeling her insides twist with sorrow and confusion. She turned to Collier and seized his hand in one of hers, stroking his arm with the other. “When your father was captured,” she said softly, and he inclined his head to meet her eyes, “you were held hostage on his behalf. You always resented it. Being held in Naess also caused you pain.”

“True, but mine was undeserved,” Collier answered, his voice hardening. “He will not keep his word.”

Maia nodded to him and then turned back to her father. “A king who will not keep his word is no king at all. By our deeds are we known, but by our words are we trusted.” She released Collier’s hand and walked up to her father. His eyes widened and his nostrils quivered with anticipation.

“A hostage then?” he said, his voice trembling with suppressed anger.

Maia shook her head. “No, Father. I will not banish you as you did me. You are still my father.” She swallowed, believing what she did was right, but not knowing what would happen as an outcome. She stilled her breath and listened for the intervening voice of the Medium to whisper to her if she were making a mistake. Nothing came. She paused a moment longer, just to be sure. There was nothing in response.

“I grant you freedom, immediately and voluntarily, if you covenant before all assembled here that you will never violate the rights of the abbeys again and will return all that you have plundered from them thus far. You will maintain the roads and protect the grounds. This you will do before the High Seer of Pry-Ree and all of these witnesses. I want your sworn oath.”

“You will release me if I do?” her father asked skeptically.

“I promise,” she answered.

He nodded curtly. “Then I do swear it.”

“I release you voluntarily and with no conditions or expectations for myself. You may deal with me as you and the Privy Council deem just and honorable. You have offered me great rewards, but I do not need money or lands or servants to be happy. You may banish me from the realm if you desire. I only request that you honor my marriage to the King of Dahomey as legitimate and grant me leave to depart from and return to Comoros as befits my station as his wife and queen.” She stared into her father’s astonished face without looking away.

“Done,” her father said curtly. “What else do you want?”

“Your leave to remain at Muirwood to celebrate Whitsunday. I would also ask that Jayn Sexton be allowed to stay for Whitsunday, if she wishes, for she studied here and has friends among us.” Maia bowed to her father. “Release them,” she ordered to the Evnissyen who guarded the prisoners. The hunters sheathed their weapons, and a murmur of relief passed over the crowd.

Her father’s eyes burned into hers. “That was . . . generous of you, Maia. I will not forget it.” His jaw tensed, and he gave her a hard look. “Will you . . . kiss your father?”

She stared at him, taken aback by the outrageous request, but then she realized he was testing her. He knew she was a hetaera, though he could not say so because of the binding sigil.

Maia shook her head no.

A small smirk came over his lips. Chancellor Crabwell was already at his elbow, his eyes dangerous and furtive. The king turned to his chancellor. “Get to Comoros,” he whispered. Then he turned to Maia. “I will also stay and celebrate Whitsunday with my daughter.”

Collier and Maia walked hand in hand through the rows of purple mint near the abbey laundry. His hand felt so natural in hers now, and she felt herself clinging to him, savoring these moments they
spent together. It amazed her how quickly the day had changed from
panic and despair to hope. The abbey was thick with people. Healers tended the wounded. The commotion and disorder had been
repaired. There were many final preparations still to be made for the
festival, and visitors wandered the grounds, leaving little opportunity for privacy. Maia was exhausted from the long vigil and all the subsequent events and found herself walking sleepily, breathing in the calming scents of the purple flowers, listening to the drone of bees, and enjoying the pressure of Collier’s shoulder against hers.

“You should know this, I think,” Collier said, turning to her. “My spy in your father’s court. Simon Fox, I believe you have met him. He is posing as a Dahomeyjan wine merchant. He has been here at Muirwood, but I sent him to spy on Crabwell. I do not trust you returning to Comoros until we learn something of Brannon’s plans.”

“You do not trust him to keep his word,” Maia acknowledged with some pain.

“As much as I trust Jon Tayt not to snore,” Collier quipped with a chuckle. “I have no doubt whatsoever that your father will not uphold his oath. What I do not know is how he will choose to punish
you
for shaming him in front of everyone. It was a humiliating defeat, Maia, you must realize that.”

“But
I
did not shame him or defeat him,” Maia said, shaking her head. “It was the Medium that saved us, not I.”

“We are clearly in agreement on that,” Collier said, his voice softening. “I have been wrong all these years. I think I even knew I was wrong, deep inside. But I could never admit it. What I have witnessed here at Muirwood, I cannot deny.”

Maia nudged him happily. “Which
evidence
finally persuaded you?”

He laughed. “When your grandmother ransomed me, it should have; I will grant you that. I am still reeling from that kindness, honestly. The generosity and goodness of that woman . . .” He shook his head. “I am astonished there are people like her in the world. When a husband takes a wife”—he squeezed her hand affectionately—“he gains not only her great beauty, poise, and desirable qualities, he also inherits relations who may not be so . . . worthy. I never knew much about your mother’s Family, for your father was quite conspicuous with his double-dealing and treachery. It was a burden I was willing to bear long ago, back when I was planning to dethrone him.” He shook his head wistfully. “He clings to power too tightly. It will slip through his fingers, as today proved. What I had not accounted for were your
mother’s
relations. Sabine is worth a thousand kings. I will treasure earning the High Seer’s good opinion of me.” He looked down at her and smiled tenderly. “You have changed me, Maia. I still feel the knife edge of ambition, but I feel . . . how can I describe it? I feel I am meant to be a sword used by the Medium. Does that make sense?”

Maia stared at him, feeling her heart fill with buttery warmth. “And so . . . you truly intend to become a maston?”

He gave her a small, soft smile and nodded once.

She squeezed his hand and then hugged him fiercely. He put his arms around her and held her, gently stroking her hair. As she squeezed her eyes shut, she felt as if she were living in a dream she might awaken from suddenly.

“We have visitors,” he whispered in her ear, and she pulled away, feeling a little shy. She was surprised to find Colvin and Lia approaching them, hand in hand. Colvin was tousling the purple mint as the couple walked, and their faces were so full of contentment and joy that Maia yearned to someday have with Collier what they had built.

Maia bowed to them, but Colvin gestured for her to stop, his expression amused.

“We have been enjoying the grounds as well,” Lia said. “They have changed since our day. There is a walled garden over there that was not here before. Your mother’s, I understand. What a lovely display of flowers and a precious place of solitude.”

“The gardener was kind,” Colvin said. “He explained some of the flowers and the history. But I have always enjoyed this particular spot the most.” He gave Lia a knowing look and a tender smile.

“May I speak to you?” Maia asked Lia. She glanced at Collier and gestured that it would not be long.

“Can we trust these two not to start a sword fight?” Lia teased. “The Earl of Dieyre and Earl of Forshee were once great rivals, you know.”

Collier laughed at that. “I would never presume an
old man
is incapable with a blade,” he said saucily to Colvin. “I saw him fight this morning, and I am satisfied his reputation is well deserved.”

Colvin smirked at the remark, and the two men began to talk as Lia and Maia wandered a short distance away.

“What is it, Maia?” Lia asked, putting an arm around her as they walked.

“How long will you stay at Muirwood?”

“We go to Pry-Ree on the morrow,” Lia said. “I have given your grandmother the rights and authority to open the Apse Veils throughout the kingdoms. I will go to Tintern, for I made a promise there as well. From Muirwood to all the other kingdoms, if you recall from my tome. Then I will write about our role in what happened at Muirwood today and seal that part of the tome with a binding sigil so that no one can speak of it. The memory will fade when there is no one to tell it.”

Maia wrinkled her brow. “But why keep it secret? You . . . you saved us!”

Lia shook her head. “
You
saved your people, Maia. Not I. Your faith and strength in the Medium are what allowed me to pass through a century. This is not my time. It is yours.”

A heavy sadness began to weigh on Maia. She had hoped against logic that Lia and Colvin would stay. Maybe some of that disappointment shone on her face. Lia smiled sadly at her and hugged her.

“The Apse Veil is open. The dead are returning to Idumea as we speak. I have sensed them all around us today. While everyone here is preparing for the festival, there have been celebrations happening unseen in the other realm.” She stroked Maia’s arm. “I have sensed your respect and affection for Richard Syon, your Aldermaston, which is how I feel about Gideon Penman, who was the Aldermaston here when I was a child.” Her voice became thick with emotion. “I saw him in the abbey, Maia. He is remaining on the grounds until all the dead who were trapped have passed through the Apse Veil. And he will stay behind until the future of the abbey is secure.”

Maia started. “What do you mean?”

Lia shook her head. “The danger has not passed. It is only delayed. Sabine must go to Assinica to open the path for the refugees from that land. The armada has already arrived on their shores. They are beseeching the Medium to fulfill the Covenant of Muirwood and deliver them from death. Sabine will arrive, as High Seer over all the lands, to bring them to safety. That will take time, Maia. The Victus will hear rumors of what happened in Muirwood this day, and the armada will return for vengeance.” Her gaze was serious and concerned. “Maia, they will launch an invasion of Comoros unlike any seen in any kingdom before. They will seek to make this kingdom void of life. They will use every power, every soldier, every warship they possess to crush the mastons and raze the abbeys.” She shook her head, her eyes full of sorrow. “I have seen it.”

Maia’s heart felt the dread. “A void,” she whispered. “What must we do?”

Lia shook her head. “I cannot tell you. The Medium forbids me.” She smiled sadly. “No one told me my future before it happened. I had to make my decisions without knowing the full consequences of them. Just as you did today with your father.”

“You know what will happen?”

Lia nodded. “Sometimes the Gift of Seering is a curse. I will not be here to face those challenges with you.
You
must learn what to do on your own, just as I did. Trust the Medium, Maia. Whatever happens. Trust the Medium.”

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