The Scourge of Muirwood (3 page)

Lia wanted to ask who had performed the binding sigil, but again she was prevented. Angrily, she thought of another question. “How is a binding performed?”

The Aldermaston smirked at her persistence. “A binding sigil, or a binding rune, can be engraved in a tome. A band of aurichalcum is then forged that seals the pages together. The band cannot be opened except by the password. What is written on those pages cannot be spoken. They cannot be uttered by anyone. When someone has the gift of Seering, they employ the binding runes on their tomes, to prevent others from learning the future. Some with the gift write their visions in language that is difficult to understand or can be interpreted in more than one way. That protects the knowledge from those who cannot use the Medium. But when the words are plain and easy to understand, they can be sealed with a binding rune to protect them.”

Lia studied him carefully. “Do you know how to do this yourself or were you taught?”

He smiled, as if he were proud of her question. He looked at her deliberately. “I was taught by the Prince of Pry-Ree. Most of what I know of the hidden power of the Medium was taught to me by him. He had a unique way of carving Leerings, for example. He was younger than I but more powerful in the Medium in every way.” He paused. “His visit to Muirwood changed my life. Prior to his visit, I was a trifle more concerned with the harvesting of apples and the making of spiced cider.”

Lia’s heart surged with emotions and she felt the tears stinging her eyes. More than anything she wanted to ask about her father, but she could not ask it openly. The Medium forbade it. She hung her head, recognizing the truth. The Aldermaston had never intended to hide from her what he knew. For some reason, her father had felt the secrecy so important that he had prevented the knowledge being shared.

“Why?” she said, struggling to find her voice through the tears. “Why must it be secret? Martin knew?” Her heart ached to tell Colvin but she realized with despair that even if he stood before her, she would not be able to tell him.

The Aldermaston’s look was full of sympathy. He nodded curtly. “Martin struggled with it. He always did. He looked for ways to circumvent the binding rune. He is defiant by nature. When you…” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “…were abandoned at the Abbey, as a wretched, I was expecting there to be a tome with you. Instead there was the orb. No one ever learned what happened to the Prince’s tome. It is still missing. I can use the orb, but I cannot leave the grounds. My office requires me to be here, at Muirwood. I think…the Prince…protected this information in such a way to prevent it from being told to the wrong person. Or people. You see, even if I wanted to tell the truth, I could not.” His eyes gave her a meaningful look that said much she did not understand. He knew, she realized, even more than he had said, more secrets that he was powerless to reveal.

Lia sighed, feeling exhausted suddenly. “Then what must I do? What does the Medium expect from me?”

His look was full of sorrow. “You already know, Lia.” His voice was soft and firm. “Ellowyn Demont must go to Dochte Abbey to warn them. Get some sleep, child. You must rest and heal. The Abbey will continue to heal you. You have made good progress each day. But still, there is little time left to us.”

She nodded and went to the door. Pausing at the threshold, she studied his face and he studied hers. There was no anger or resentment within her any longer, only determination to find a way to tell Colvin who she really was. She sighed, realizing how thick-headed he could be. But she would try. She had to try.

After shutting the door gently, she walked down the hall and joined the cool night air. Her leg throbbed from the punishing pace she had allowed herself that day. Her temples clanged like kettles. She was so distracted she did not see the shadow of the man until it mixed with hers. Whirling, she caught sight of a man detaching himself from the darkness to approach her. His hand rested on a gladius blade.

“You are the Pry-rian lass?” he asked softly in the language of her deceased father, her heritage, her homeland.

She had seen him before and recognized the face from Tintern Abbey.

* * *

“I failed at the Leerings again today. There is one that frightens me more than the others. Let me describe it. The image is of two serpents woven together, their heads facing each other. It forms a circle. Most of the Leerings I see are shaped like faces, but this one is different. It is small. I see this symbol everywhere in Dochte. The Aldermaston says it is an ancient rune, that the serpent is one of the manifestations of Idumea. There are seven manifestations of Idumea. Dahomey embraces the manifestation of the serpent. I believe him, but it makes me afraid. There are serpents engraved everywhere. People keep serpents as pets here. There are no rats or voles. I will try again tomorrow to speak to the Leerings. There is one that will stop the Blight. Colvin said I must hurry. There are things he will not tell me. If Lia were here, he would tell her.”

- Ellowyn Demont of Dochte Abbey

* * *

Lia understood the language of the Pry-rians. It startled her to hear it on the Abbey grounds and startled her even more that she recognized the man. The last time she had seen him, he was picking fruit from a small enclosed garden behind Tintern Abbey where Colvin hid. Her hand dropped to her gladius hilt.

He smirked. “You were brave enough to pass the mountains of the Fear Liath,” he said. “No doubt you are equally brave enough to face me with a blade. But given your limp, I would suggest against it.”

Lia tried to calm her heart, to let him sense her confidence instead of shock. “How did you get here?” she demanded of him. “The waters have not subsided. The land is flooded for leagues around the Abbey.” He was not wet.

“I do not wish to be seen,” he replied, not answering her question. “Follow me.” With that, he stepped back into the shadows and started towards the rear of the kitchen. It was dangerous, she realized. What was he doing there? Why had he come? She stood rooted in place, fingering her weapon, wondering whether to return and warn the Aldermaston or find Seth to accompany her.

His voice drifted from the dark. “It is a beautiful moonlit night. And mild enough that others will be wandering the grounds, so if I am to remain unseen, as is my desire, I must withdraw to where fire cannot reveal me.”

Lia was intrigued by his choice of words. They were almost musical the way they came out of his mouth. There was a different manner of speaking in Pry-Ree, a different way of expressing ideas. Rather than being alarmed, it calmed her. Cautiously, she ventured into the shadows and followed him to the copse of oak trees at the fringe where she had observed Colvin at his swordplay more than once. She was tensed, ready to cry out if surprised by anyone else.

“Explain yourself,” Lia said, listening keenly for the sounds of others. She remembered how Colvin and Ellowyn had been lulled into a trap by Martin. She glanced around and searched the darkness for any sign of others.

“I am alone,” he said.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Kieran Evnissyen, though I am called Kieran Ven which means ‘night’ in the tongue of this land. I do most of my work after sundown. I am part of the Evnissyen. As are you.”

Lia walked in a half-circle around him, forcing him to turn to keep her in view. “What is that name? Is it a Family name?”

“It was, long ago. But those abandoned by their parents use it now. We are the protectors of the royal family. Advisors to the nobles of Pry-Ree.”

“Their abductors as well, it would seem,” Lia said. “This is not your first journey to this land.”

“I confess it. I know that our Aldermaston sent Ellowyn to Dochte Abbey. It was clearly the Medium’s will. We did not oppose it. Now it bids us rescue her from that den of snakes…and hetaera.”

Lia gasped as he said the word.

“I know you are a maston,” he said with a nod of approval. “As am I. Unusual for Evnissyen, but not unheard of. Which brings me to the answer you were seeking at the first. I arrived at nightfall, crossing the Apse Veil from Tintern. The way to Dochte was sealed. I could not pass. So I was sent here. My mission is to join Martin in Dahomey. I was told you would come with me willingly.” He cocked his head. “Or should I fetch a rope?”

“Martin?” Lia gasped. She stopped circling the enigmatic man and rushed him, gripping his sleeve. He reacted defensively, but let her seize him.

Another smirk. “He felled the Fear Liath, girl. We were trying to join you. To aid you in your mission. We lost two to that beast, but Martin finished the kill and rid the mountain of that demon. He booked passage on a ship from Bridgestow and left before you even made it back to this forsaken country. You have the Prince’s orb. You will lead me to Martin. We leave at dawn.”

Lia stared at him in surprise and chafed at his presumption. “I serve the Aldermaston of Muirwood, not Tintern. I must seek…”

“Permission? You are such a child. I have been an Evnissyen since my birth. How old are you? Seventeen? I have twice as many years behind me. I have been to Dahomey many times. I know the road to the island Abbey. I know the woods full of stones and flooded with boulders. I know the port of call, Vezins. But Martin insisted that I bring you with me. So I must insist that you come along whether the old man wills it or no. I am not normally this polite.”

This is polite?
she thought darkly. “Why do you come now?” Lia said, challenging him.

His eyes were dark, brooding. “Because we cannot wait any longer. Whitsunday is past. The apples are harvesting and will be mashed into cider. The cider will be drunk at the winter celebration. The winter celebration is when the Blight will come. It will strike at Twelfth Night, the beginning of winter. We must be on the ships before the winter storms arrive and prevent us from sailing. The plague stirs from Dochte Abbey on Twelfth Night.”

As he spoke, an image bloomed in Lia’s mind. A Leering stone carved into a circle made of entwining serpents. As she looked at it, it began to glow with fire.

Lia blinked and the vision was gone. She stared at Kieran Ven coldly. “Before I go anywhere, I must speak with the Aldermaston.”

“For your sake, I hope he says yes.”

* * *

“Let me help you comb the tangles out of your hair,” Sowe offered. The kitchen smelled lovely as an egg crackled on a skillet and pottage boiled on the cauldron. Lia’s rucksack was full of food, a change of garments. A full quiver of arrows rested by it and the bowsleeve which stood straight against the fringe of the doorway.

“Thank you,” Lia said and sat patiently while Sowe began working on the wild tangles in her always unmanageable mass of hair.

Pasqua ladled syrupy treacle into the dish and then pressed it into her hands with a spoon. “You are scarcely fit to walk, Lia. Another day or two would do you some good. Why not delay?” She reached out and touched Lia’s cheek tenderly.

“Traveling to Dahomey will take time. The Aldermaston would like me to leave before dawn when others will not see me go.”

“I am almost finished,” Sowe said, hurrying with the task. She pinched a clump of golden twisty hair and then ran her hand over Lia’s head. “I will miss you again. I have never left Muirwood once. You have been so far.”

Lia was not sure if she detected jealousy in Sowe’s voice or not. She looked up at her friend. “Do you wish you were going?”

Sowe smiled and shook her head. “Edmon is going to take the maston test. I should like…to be here when he does.” She blushed and looked down.

Lia took her hand and squeezed it. They had different temperaments. Sowe was shy and reserved, the greatest beauty in the Abbey since Reome had left after Whitsunday. She did not act conceited or haughty. She almost seemed unaware of the affect she had on the boys. Especially one Edmon, earl of Norris-York, who doted on her shamefully when he was allowed inside the kitchen.

“I will miss you,” Lia said, squeezing her hand again.

Sowe leaned down and kissed Lia’s cheek. “I worry for you without Colvin to protect you. Even though I know you can care for yourself better than the knight-mastons can. Pasqua is grateful Martin is still alive. She cried when you told her the news. Do you think the Aldermaston will forgive him?”

“I do not know. He forgave Seth, though, even after his betrayal. Well, the voyage on the ships will be a long one, I imagine. We will all need to learn forgiveness before we reach the destination.” Lia took a spoonful of the porridge and savored the mix of spices and treacle with the oats.

Pasqua rubbed her hands together, looking forlorn. “I am not sure I want to leave,” she said with a sigh, glancing up at the tall beams supporting the huge roof. The fires in each corner of the kitchen were glowing, cooking the bread and sending the heat upwards and then swirling back down to warm them. “Maybe I will stay with the Aldermaston. I do not relish the thought of a long sea journey. My knees have been aching and I do not like walking.” She glanced around at the kitchen again, her eyes brimming with tears. “But then I have the thought that if I do not go, I will never meet your little ones.”