The Ciphers of Muirwood (4 page)

One by one Maia was introduced to them all.

“This is Maergiry Baynton,” the Aldermaston said when they reached Maeg. Her impish look had not diminished one bit. “She is an accomplished dancer and musician. I love hearing her sing, and she is quite adept at the harp. She is from this Hundred, the daughter of the sheriff of Mendenhall. That makes her position as a Cipher very dangerous for her. If her father were to find out, the situation would be perilous for all of us. But the Aldermaston and I trust her very much.” Maia nodded to her, but Maeg did not nod in return.

“And this, as you know, is Suzenne Clarencieux from Kent Hundred in the south. She has the most elegant writing of all of us, myself included. Really, there is little else she can be taught, and she helps me instruct the younger girls when they first start engraving. I will
miss
her after Whitsunday.” She squeezed Suzenne’s shoulder, who flushed at the compliment. “Now, continue engraving what you were working on yesterday, girls. I will not be checking your work today, as I need to instruct Maia. Suzenne, would you please?”

“Yes, I would be happy to help.”

Maia watched the girls’ quiet demeanor dissolve as they pushed away from chairs and quickly scurried to the shelves, each one picking out a tome she would bring back. The Aldermaston’s wife led her to the bench along the far wall with all the scriving tools. Maia observed discreetly that Maeg was speaking quietly with several of the other girls, directing them to give her covert looks while making comments behind her hand. Her heart squirmed with disappointment.

Maia knew she should not care. Having spent years suffering at the hands of her stepmother and her stepmother’s Family, she was used to being treated poorly by others of her sex. Used to being judged, weighed, and scrutinized. She realized, too late, that her display of lighting the Leerings must have injured Suzenne’s standing amongst the girls. She promised herself to apologize later. She had hoped to form a friendship with Suzenne. But she realized that the girl already had her friends, that she had been studying for years at Muirwood, and that her final months were being disrupted by a girl who, quite probably, terrified her.

Maia stared down at the band of aurichalcum around the lower portion of her tome. None of the other girls had a binding sigil on theirs. None of the other girls carried a dark secret like hers. Maia had been the vessel of Ereshkigal, the Queen of the Myriad Ones. She had done things, unwillingly and under that being’s terrible influence, which she would regret all the rest of her days. These girls had been raised under the protective shadow of two loving Aldermastons, a tender man and his equally kindhearted wife. They had learned to read and engrave from a young age.

Part of her heart wanted to resent them for all the benefits they had enjoyed while she had been locked away in the attic of her stepmother’s Family manor. She smoothed her hand over the polished empty page of her tome.

“We practice with these,” the Aldermaston’s wife said, pushing a wooden sheet toward her with a sheen of clear wax set inside a frame. “Before you scrive in gold, you must practice your hand until you can write flawlessly. This will not be difficult for you, Maia, but it will be tedious at first. You must spend a portion of time each day
reading
as well as
practicing
. My husband will teach you the doctrines of the Medium during the day. I will instruct you at night on how to hear its whispers.” She closed her hand on Maia’s arm. “I look forward to this opportunity, Maia,” she said in an undertone so the others could not hear. “I love you already. I spoke with your mother for many long hours over many painful years. I will share with you everything I knew of her. She was, in my view, one of the most noble women who ever lived.”

Maia felt her heart quiver with pain as tears stung her eyes.

“She sacrificed her life and happiness,” the woman continued, her throat thickening, “for yours. You may feel out of place, Maia, but you were meant to be here. These girls are your family now. You are the oldest. And they are your sisters.”

Maia wiped her eyes quickly. She did not like to cry, but her grandmother had taught her that she needed to learn to accept her emotions rather than bury them. Her father had always urged her to do otherwise, so it was a hard lesson to learn.

“I do not think Suzenne likes me very well,” Maia said softly, watching the other girl as she went from table to table and coaxed the other girls in their efforts. “She is afraid of me.”

The Aldermaston’s wife patted Maia’s hand and wisely said nothing.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Queen’s Garden

W
ith the sun came a different schedule—a different life. The first official lesson was in languages, and though Maia sought to remain in the background, the teacher, who was from Dahomey, knew who she was. In his excitement to converse with another fluent speaker, he had addressed her immediately, speaking fast and excitedly. Maia had answered him as briefly as she could, but her response still showed her ability with the language. The lavish way he praised her in front of the class made her wince. Maeg’s eyes narrowed with envy, and throughout the class she whispered to some of the other Ciphers behind her hand, undoubtedly spouting unpleasant things about Maia.

Maia met some of the boys at the school in the language class. While she recognized some of the Family names from her youth,
none of the students themselves looked familiar. There was one boy
who was aloof from the others and seemed rather impatient with the
pace of the class. She was too uncertain of herself to ask who he was.

Languages was the only class shared with the boys, as they were busy reading and engraving tomes in the cloisters for the rest of the day. Maia found embroidery to be painfully tedious, but the archery lesson was enjoyable. The studies on law, medicine, and history were also quite interesting.

When the classes were finally over, the students were allowed to wander the grounds and enjoy themselves, unless the weather was blustery. The days were short and the wind brisk and scented with pending rain. Suzenne walked alongside her as they left the classroom, and Maia saw several young men waiting for the girls at a cluster of trees.

Maeg had a mischievous smile as she began bantering with some of the youths. Then she turned to look at them. “Suzenne, are you coming, or must you tend to the poor waif
all
day?”

It was a deliberate cruelty, Maia knew that at once, and Suzenne’s cheeks flushed with discomfort. These were her friends, and it was clear from Maeg’s tone and word choice that Maia had not been invited to join them.

Suzenne looked flustered with indecision, and Maia could see that while her heart longed for one thing, her sense of duty and propriety urged her to do something else.

Maia touched Suzenne’s arm. “Go with them,” she said softly. “I am tired and would rather walk the grounds by myself. Thank you for showing me where to go today.”

Suzenne hesitated, and Maia could see the strain in her brow. She was doing battle with herself.

“Will you be all right?” Suzenne asked in a concerned tone.

“She can fend for herself well enough,” Maeg said spitefully. “Come, Suzenne! It will be dark soon. The days are so short now.”

Maia smiled, patted Suzenne’s arm, and turned and walked away, her cheeks burning from the slight.

“Is she
really
the king’s daughter?” one of the boys muttered.

“Yes,” said Maeg wickedly. “I will tell you all about her. Come on, Suzenne!”

“Poor lass, I pity her,” said another boy.

Maia kept right on walking, anxious to be away from their gazes. There was a certain petulance to youth, she realized. She had been exposed to it before from her stepmother, Lady Deorwynn, and her stepsisters, but she had expected something different in an abbey. It baffled her that people who studied the Medium and knew how sensitive it was to thoughts and desires could be so callous in their treatment of one another.

She sighed. She had borne the torment of Lady Deorwynn and her girls. Compared to that, what were Maeg’s saucy looks? She determined to bear it without becoming vengeful. She would try and earn Suzenne’s trust over time.

The weight of the students’ behavior eased off her shoulders as she started to explore the grounds. Her eyes drank in the structure of the abbey beneath the sturdy scaffolding. She longed to strip away the wood and see the abbey as it was meant to be. A memory fluttered in her mind of climbing the scaffolding of a towering abbey in the city of Rostick in Hautland. As she walked in the soft grass, she remembered that city’s clean cobbled streets, so crammed and narrow, yet pristine. Before coming to the abbey, she had fled from one kingdom to another, crossing perilous mountains and facing storms, avalanches, and the sea.

Maia walked into the Cider Orchard, where the leaves were turning yellow and falling off due to the cold. As she trod through the soggy remnants on the grass, she smiled to herself, feeling as if she walked amidst ghosts. She touched the gray branches, running her hands over the bark, and breathed in the musty smells of moldering leaves and early winter. In truth, she was not troubled by solitude. It was pleasant being by herself.

After she emerged from the orchard, she veered away from the
areas where the learners had gathered, and circled around to the laun
dry. There were no lavenders there at this hour, since their work had
been done earlier in the day. Beyond the roofed shelter, she saw a field
of purple. Two workers were kneeling amidst the plants, using small knives to cut sprigs. She walked closer, wanting a better view, and
was
startled to realize that one of the laborers was her grandmother.

Sabine and the girl, both wearing dirty aprons to cover their dresses, were conversing in low voices. As Maia approached, Sabine smiled warmly and quickly brushed the dirt off her hands and rose.

“There you are,” she said, shaking loose dirt from her apron. “You are done with your studies?”

“Yes,” Maia said, giving her grandmother a hug.

“I wanted to show you something,” Sabine said. Then she turned to the girl kneeling beside her. “Thank you, Cybil. It was thoughtful of you to take the time to teach me your craft.”

“My pleasure, my lady.”

Sabine took Maia’s arm and steered her a different way.

“Does she know who you are?” Maia asked softly, glancing back at the girl.

Sabine shook her head and said nothing. She pointed to a walled section of the grounds just ahead.

“What is it?” Maia asked. The wall was thick with ivy, so thick
that the stone beneath could hardly be seen. All the walls were quite
high, and one corner had a roof edge visible from below. They walked
along the path to the portion of the wall with the sloping roof.

“Your mother had this built,” Sabine said, nodding toward it. “It was her private garden. They call it the Queen’s Garden. She did not allow anyone in here except the gardener. It was her place of refuge. Her solace.”

As they approached, Maia noticed a sturdy wooden door hidden behind the drapes of ivy, and felt the presence of a Leering. As she approached, its eyes began to glow in warning. She felt a pulse of fear start inside her.

“It will obey you,” Sabine said, “for you are of her blood. She built this garden in the hope that you would come study at Muirwood one day. She would often come here and spend hours inside, thinking of you.”

Maia’s heart pulsed with sadness. But it was also comforting to hear how much her mother had loved her. She stared at the small carving set into the stone beside the door and silenced it with her mind. The stone slowly moved, making a grinding noise.

“It is open now,” Sabine said, pushing on the door.

As it opened, the fragrance of flowers gushed from the gap and
filled Maia’s nose with a pleasant perfume. The garden was beau
ti
fully tended, with low stone benches, boxes to add a variety of
heights, and beautiful trees and trimmed hedges. There were flower
boxes everywhere, each filled with a different varieties of rosebushes.

Sabine took Maia’s arm as they explored the garden together.
The front corner near the door was covered by a sloping roof, providing a small covered shelter for when it rained. The walls were
high enough that sounds from the grounds outside disappeared and
only the trilling of the birds nesting in the branches could be heard.

“It is lovely,” Maia said with a smile, patting her grandmother’s arm. “Did she choose all the plants herself?”

“Yes, every one. It is yours now, Maia. I spent a little bit of time today tending it. There are weeds to pull and hedges to trim. That will be your job while you are here. I thought you would like it.”

Maia did. It would be a refuge, a place that was her own. She touched one of the walls of the flowerbeds, feeling the grainy texture of the stone. Warmth for her mother glowed like an ember in her bosom. “It is perfect.”

“I have been mulling something today,” Sabine said. “I hope it is not uncomfortable for you, but I wanted to discuss it. Let me know if it is too painful.”

Maia turned and looked at Sabine curiously. “What is it?”

“Your marriage.”

The word sent a shard of pain through her left breast. Maia bit her lip.

“If it is too painful . . .”

“No, it is all right. What do you wish to know?”

Sabine held her hand and walked with her around the footpath inside the garden. “Based on what you told me on the
Holk
, your wedding happened rather quickly. It was in the King of Dahomey’s tent, it was performed by a Dochte Mandar, and there were multiple witnesses. In my mind, it is a valid ceremony, and you made your promise.” She sighed. “It is not what I would have wished for you. King Gideon of Dahomey never passed the maston test. I learned from the Aldermaston of his abbey that he had no real intent to pass it. My understanding is he spent more time trying to escape his studies than he did seeking to gain wisdom from them.” She fell silent. “But what is done is done, Maia. As your grandmother, I may not like your . . . choice in a husband, but there is no denying he
is
your husband. I would advise you not to tell anyone. I would also advise you not to pretend you are free. There are many young men here at the abbey who may take a fancy to you.”

Maia was surprised that the first emotion she felt in response to her grandmother’s words was relief. She had wondered, and worried, if the marriage would be easily annulled because of the circumstances. Maia felt
bound
to Collier, even still, and worried how he might feel about their union. She had never considered herself free to choose another.

“I think not,” Maia said. “I am quite a pariah already.”

Sabine squeezed her hands. “Yes. But you are also the Princess of Comoros. There are powerful men in this kingdom who would seek to use you to dethrone your father.”

“I suppose I had not thought much about it,” Maia said uncomfortably.

“It is not a supposition,” Sabine replied. “While your mother was here, she received several visitors. Many came in secret and urged her to rise up against her husband. Even though she was a foreign queen, from Pry-Ree, they told her that the people respected her because she was faithful to her maston vows. They admired her example and the dignity and elegance with which she had suffered the humiliations of her position. They offered to summon armies to fight for her. These stirrings of rebellion were no small concern for your father.”

“But she refused them?” Maia asked, amazed at what she was learning. “I never heard of any insurrection.”

“Of course you would not have heard of it. You were kept so close to your father, then watched over so carefully by Lady Shilton, Lady Deorwynn’s mother. You were always a political risk to your father. As his firstborn and lawful daughter, you could . . . in theory . . . inherit the throne. I say in theory because it has never happened before. As you know, no queen has
ever
ruled Comoros in her own right. There was one who tried generations ago, but it caused a civil war. Ultimately, her
son
ruled. This kingdom has a deep history of contention and strife, which is once again reaching a boiling point. That is why I must warn you. As much as we will try, we cannot keep your presence here a secret for long. You must pour all your energy into passing the maston test yourself. Maybe within a fortnight. When your father learns you are here, I assure you he will send soldiers to fetch you.”

Maia swallowed. “I do not want to see him,” she said darkly. “I cannot help but think that
what happened to me
is his fault.”

“I know, child. I know.” Her voice was soothing, comforting. “Just be wary, especially if any young men approach you and try to share a degree of . . . intimacy with you. There are several noble Families who have sent their learners here. Many of them oppose your father but are too afraid to speak out because of what happened to the last Earl of Forshee.”

“I was there when the earl spoke out,” Maia said. “What Father did to him was terrible.”

“Can I ask you something else?” Sabine said.

“Of course. You can ask me anything.”

“Thank you.” Her brow furrowed. “Did you and your husband have intimate relations?”

Maia flushed and was grateful that the sun was setting quickly, filling the gardens with shadows. “No.” She squirmed uncomfortably.