The Blight of Muirwood Read online

  He gazed at her face, seeing the blotches there. “I remember. I have craved those apples since I left. I remember this place differently now.” He looked around at the mist-shrouded trees. “There is no sign of Blight here yet,” he whispered. “I am glad of that.”

  * * *

  “We should live as if we were in public view, and think, too, as if someone could peer into the inmost recesses of our hearts. The Blight which assails us is not in the localities we inhabit but in ourselves. We are more wicked together than separately. If you are ever forced to be in a crowd, then most of all you should withdraw into yourself. Never trust another to do your thinking. Even a maston.”

  - Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey

  * * *

  CHAPTER FIVE:

  Scales

  The discussion had already started by the time Lia reached the Aldermaston’s study, but only by a few moments. Martin was nestled in the recessed window, surly as usual, his arms folded across his chest, his chin jutting. His was a cantankerous presence. Prestwich sat near the desk, organizing stacks of parchments and seals and sealing wax, forever patient and precise. A fat candle lay dripping nearby. His crown of white hair looked like fresh-fallen snow. He was older than anyone else in the room, his age showing more each day.

  The Aldermaston paced by the mantle, glanced over at Lia’s entrance, but did not stop the thread of his conversation. His voice was soft yet gravelly, as if he were always slightly straining for breath. “The third report from last month. The fourth and fifth from the last fortnight alone. Where were they from, Prestwich?”

  The steward lifted his head and poked his earlobe with the stylus. “From the Abbeys at Caneland and Sutton. The latest arrived from Billerbeck with Earl Forshee.”

  Lia sat next to Martin at the window seat, listening intently.

  “The Blight is spreading,” the Aldermaston said. He rubbed his mouth. “It ravages Dahomey, Paiz, and Hautland. Few mastons travel alone these days. They come in pairs as the earls did. I have not heard of an Abbey succumbing to it yet, but it is only a matter of time. It weighs on me heavily, this threat we face.”

  Martin stood, his voice nearly a growl. “Who is infecting the stones then with this Blight? Who is spreading the taint? Is it the Myriad Ones? When Pry-Ree fell, it fell without a whimper. Without burning Leerings and noxious saps. The princes were betrayed by those they trusted. And when trust fails, so does law. When there is no longer law, there is only war and murder.”

  “War is only one manifestation of the Blight,” the Aldermaston said. “Sometimes it kills with plague. Sometimes with drought. Sometimes even, Idumea forbid, with water.” He paused and looked at Lia. “I am sure you are confused. Prestwich understands the significance of the events. Martin does as well, for he endured it previously and witnessed his country succumb to the Blight. You are very young, Lia. You have not lived through this awful season before, the foul ripeness and bitter harvest. This will be your first, so I will attempt to explain it to you. Those of us older than you have seen it repeated like a waterwheel churning in a river.”

  He turned and went back to his desk. “Prestwich, find the one from Hautland. There it is, with the copper seal. Yes, that one. Thank you.” He opened it and squinted. “In this one, the Blight came as a plant with poisonous sap. It started around a Leering in the woods and the plant spread quickly throughout the forest, inflicting everyone who touched it with itching boils. Attempts to burn it caused smoke to carry the poison inside the victims.” He handed the parchment back to Prestwich. “Strange, is it not? That a plant that is not native to this country can appear from nowhere and begin its work of destruction so rapidly. What brought it? When did it start?”

  Her stomach twisted and lurched when she thought about Colvin being in danger. “Aldermaston,” she said. “I know who ruined the Leering in the wood.”

  He paused, cocking his head and stared at her in disbelief. “How, child?”

  “When I calmed the stone, I touched it. When I did, I saw them in my mind. There were soldiers from Winterrowd – the king’s men. They slept near the stone during the winter for warmth. I could see the snow around them. One came and touched the stone and he is the one who made it start burning. I recognized him because he is the man who tricked me. He brought Colvin to the kitchen and then went to find the sheriff.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “When I returned from Winterrowd, remember I told you of him. He is called Scarseth and he has the sheriff’s medallion. He cannot speak, but he knows about me. He knows I was at that Leering. He knows what I did to the sheriff’s men there.”

  The Aldermaston’s face darkened with anger. “Martin, he must be found. The medallion he wears is dangerous. He may not yet realize its powers or what he does with it. But one Leering can lead him to the rest and compromise the Abbey if he penetrates the boundaries I put in place. Find him, Martin. Bring him to me if you can. If not, then do what you must. He must be stopped.”

  Lia stood firmly. “I can find him, Aldermaston. The Cruciger orb can lead us right to him.”

  He shook his head, equally firmly. “No, Lia. I cannot afford to let both of you leave. I am in need of two hunters right now.” He held up his hand before the protest escaped her lips. “Hush, child. Do as I say. I act with reasons you do not always understand. Have faith in me a bit longer. I need you and your orb here because of the guest the earls brought to Muirwood. Her name is Ellowyn Demont, the niece of Garen Demont and the heir of Pry-Ree, the daughter of the prince of the Pry-Ree who died shortly after she was born. The birthing killed her mother. In the customs of that land, children are named after their mother’s family. Her mother was the only daughter of Sevrin Demont who died at Maseve, and she was Garen Demont’s young sister. It is no secret that the king’s entire family still hates the Demonts. The child was reared in Sempringfall Abbey as a wretched. After Winterrowd, her location was discovered. Pay close attention, for this is important. To the Pry-rians, she is the legitimate heir to their kingdom. They have petitioned Demont to have her returned and to study at their Abbeys. So far, he has not consented. There is great fear that they will attempt to abduct her.”

  Martin snorted and Lia noticed his eyes were burning with anger. “Abducted, Aldermaston? You mean returned to her rightful place. She was abducted from Pry-Ree and treated worse than an orphan instead of given her due right. It is wrong to say otherwise.”

  The Aldermaston’s face hardened. “I will not argue the point, Martin. I certainly do not have the authority to determine her whereabouts. She resides at Muirwood for a time but then we will move her again to another Abbey. The rumor is spreading that she will linger here for a year. The utmost secrecy is required in this matter. When it is time to move her, we will assist. No one must know where she is going or when. As I mentioned, the king’s family hate the Demonts. While her existence was primarily forgotten, by design, it is in the open now. Friends of the old king may seek her life. That is why, Lia, you must stay here. You are needed to protect the Abbey, protect the earls, and protect this girl. I trust Martin’s abilities. If Scarseth is still lurking in the Bearden Muir, he will be found. But I feel impressions that you must stay near the Abbey.”

  Martin leaned back, his arms folded. “You should send the girl to Pry-Ree. There are too many daggers in this land. Too much blood. She would be safer among her own people.”

  “Thank you for your advice, Martin. You know I trust you and I respect your wisdom. It is not the time for such a course at the moment.”

  Martin muttered under his breath and shook his head. “It is not right. It is not right to play such games with the life of someone so young.”

  “Martin,” the Aldermaston warned, his voice growing sterner.

  “I have heard you. I will obey. But I do not agree. I cannot agree.” He rose from the window seat. “Pry-Ree grovels for crumbs now when she used to feed princes. That ill-made king destroyed us. He is cold under the soil now, and no one mourns him. This girl i
s the last chance to make Pry-Ree bloom again, by Cheshu. She is the key to its re-birth.”

  The Aldermaston’s gaze was icy. He said nothing, only waited for Martin to finish.

  With a sigh, Martin returned to the window seat and sat next to Lia. “I speak my mind, Aldermaston. It is no secret I have my opinions. But I will obey as obediently as Prestwich. You can trust that.” He waved his hand at the Aldermaston. “I have interrupted you. There is more you had to say.”

  The Aldermaston motioned to Prestwich who withdrew another scroll. The steward’s voice was thick and cultured. “This letter informs us that the Queen Dowager will be attending Whitsunday at Muirwood this year. We expect her arrival in a fortnight. Her retinue will be joining her as well and we have been asked to provide lodging for them at our expense.”

  Lia looked at the Aldermaston in alarm. “Does she know that Ellowyn is here?”

  “I do not know. I can and must presume that somehow she does know and that her retinue will be prepared for many possibilities. They may try to abduct her, poison her or the earls, or determine what they can about our defenses – to plumb the depth of our commitment to protect her. They may test the strength of our thoughts. That is why the earls are staying here and not in the village. That is why they will only eat from my kitchen. And that is why my own hunter will be responsible for their safety while they are here. If any threat emerges, you are to flee to the tunnels and use the orb to find a safe haven for them. Martin, you do not have long to find your quarry, for you must return before the festival so that I have both of you here when the Queen Dowager arrives. Remember, she was the slain king’s wife. I understand that she has been visiting the towns and Abbeys in surrounding Hundreds in recent months. She is a…cunning woman. Be on your guard with her.”

  Martin leaned forward. “It would be safer to move the girl now then, Aldermaston.”

  He shook his head. “I would rather she stay under Muirwood’s protection while it still is strong. We have time yet, Martin. There is still time.”

  Lia’s mind was burdened with too many thoughts and worries. She folded her arms and looked down at her lap, feeling the weight of her responsibility.

  The Aldermaston’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “So you see, Lia. I have not sent Martin on the harder errand after all.”

  CHAPTER SIX:

  Promise

  Lia smoothed the linen napkin enclosing the foodstuffs and carefully packed it inside Martin’s baggage. She included some small pouches of spices that she knew he liked and then cinched it closed and held it out to him. Martin gave her one of his rare smiles. His bow was strung, the two quivers full of brightly-fletched arrows, his hand resting casually on the gladius pommel in a way that made her worry. Anything involving the work of death and war made her slightly sick. The nightmares of the battlefield of Winterrowd still haunted her, though not as often.

  She gave him a hug, which always made him scowl and shoo her away. “’Tis you who need the comforting, lass. By Cheshu, I get the joy of wandering again in the fenlands and smashing little bloodsucking flies. Your work is more dangerous.” He looked at her sternly. “I have taught you well enough if you had the mind to listen. The hunter is patient. The prey is careless. You are a good lass. Be wary. Be wise. Be cautious. I will return within a fortnight.” He reached out and smoothed a lock back over her ear. It was a tender gesture, a subtle showing of affection, and it made her swallow.

  “I will have Pasqua save you a slice of sambocade,” Lia said. “Maybe a whole dish.”

  He shook his head and pounded his stomach. “It would not settle right to eat the whole thing. But a slice – that would be worth returning to. Keep an eye on the learner quarters. I think there are several of the first years who are getting a bit daring now that the year is finishing. I would not scold you if you dyed some of their hair blue if they wander at night. Woad is a useful plant for that.”

  Lia laughed and gave him another hug. Then she opened the pouch at her waist and withdrew the Cruciger orb. He peered at her, his eyes suddenly fierce and penetrating. The scowl was still there beneath the bushy cropped beard that was mostly silver and black. He grimaced, his teeth showing. It was as if he wanted to say something, but could not.

  “Show me the way to the man known as Scarseth,” Lia whispered, unnerved by his gaze.

  The orb twirled and spun in her hand and pointed northwest, towards the Bearden Muir. He looked at the spindles, at the writing that appeared on the surface of the orb, but he could not read either. He nodded to her and then departed, tugging up his leather cowl to shade his face from the noonday sun.

  After he was gone from sight, she looked down at the orb again. Show me Colvin, she thought, and again it directed her, pointing towards the Cider Orchard, where she expected him to be. Carefully, she placed it back in the pouch and headed off towards the orchard. So many thoughts collided in her mind, that she nearly stumbled as she walked. Of the many threats and dangers, it was difficult untangling them all. Mastons were still being murdered. The Demont girl had enemies. The Queen Dowager would be arriving soon at Muirwood. How could she, one person, handle it all? Part of her had been dreading Whitsunday for weeks, and that had turned to excitement when she learned Colvin had arrived. But instead of enjoying the dance, she would be worried about him.

  “Lia!” called a voice from behind. She turned in annoyance and saw Astrid running towards her. He was eleven years old and very short with spiky dark hair.

  She stopped, frustrated. “Does the Aldermaston want to see me?” she asked.

  He shook his head when he approached, out of breath. “I thought you should know,” he said, then stopped, panting. “I overhead Getman Smith talking to some of the stable hands. He did not see me. He warned them against dancing with Sowe around the maypole. He said…he threatened them, Lia. If anyone asked her but him, he would thrash them.” His little face bunched up in distaste. “He really is a coxcomb. Tell her, Lia. It is not fair that he should be the only one to dance with her.”

  She scowled and nodded. “Thank you, Astrid. I will tell her.”

  “What happened to your face, Lia?”

  “Nothing. It is healing. Thank you, Astrid.” As he ran to his next errand, she continued on, worrying about how ravaged her face looked before seeing Colvin. The skin was peeling and coming off in flakes, especially her nose. At least the itching was gone.

  She entered the orchard from the south side, crossing the even rows towards the Leering guarding the trail downward. But before she reached it, she encountered Colvin part-way. The orchard trees were thick around her, forcing her to duck and weave beneath the claw-like branches.

  She tried to keep her voice light, to not betray her excitement at seeing him. “I did not bring you any food this time. If you are hungry, it is your own fault. But there may be some apples in the higher branches.”

  He held up his hands and she saw he was holding two. “Muirwood apples suit me now. I have not tasted one like these since I left. The ones that grow elsewhere are either red or yellow, sometimes juicy, sometimes mush - but never this blend of colors, and never this particular taste.” He tossed one to her. She caught it, noting the blemishes and blotches around the stem.

  She smelled it first, inhaling its subtle fragrance – noting the way he watched her. There was a look in his eyes that she could not make out. No anger or impatience. He seemed very calm and self-assured.

  She bit into the apple and enjoyed the burst of flavor. “It is a pity you did not arrive in the spring,” she said, “when the whole orchard blooms. It is my favorite season here on the grounds, when all the oaks are budding and the apple blossoms fall so thick you think it is snowing. I think I told you before,” she said seriously, regarding the bitten piece of fruit. “That we must be near the garden where the first Parents met. It was probably the garden where we found Maderos, remember? Imagine if that was it.”

  Colvin shook his head. “That has not changed. You still mock s
ubjects that you know little or nothing about.”

  With a sweet smile, she asked, “How could I know all that, if no one will teach me to read?” She took another bite. “We know so very little about those ancient days, Colvin. What would have happened if our first Parents had not bitten the apple together, at the same moment?”

  “You presume it was an apple. The tomes only say ‘fruit’. There are, after all, other things they might have eaten.”

  “Yes, but there is something less than forbidding to the imagination about biting into a pumpkin. What would have happened if they did not eat it at the same time? What if Father ate it first?”

  “There still would have been a punishment,” Colvin countered. “That is the point, Lia, not who ate it first or what fruit it was. Maybe in another world, she took the first bite and suffered the first punishment. But you did not come all this way here to talk about the fruit of knowledge and what it means. Sit down at that stump. I owe you an explanation for my actions. You may not believe me, but I do regret that it happened. You probably believe I was a faithless knave – I am sure you did. Please…sit while we talk.”

  There was a patch of grass that looked much more inviting, so she sat there, enjoying another taste of the apple and the fact that Colvin had climbed a tree to find it, and then waited for him to speak. Because of what the Aldermaston had explained that morning, she thought she knew most of it already.

  He did not join her on the grass, but stood nearby, examining a branch crowned with leaves. “The day I left you, I told the Aldermaston that I would pay for your learning. He knew I was to be invested as the Earl of Forshee. It was not an issue of money that he refused me. He said he did not want to draw attention to you more than had already been done. After Winterrowd, I thought it would be safe, but he warned me that I was mistaken. Other earls would oppose Demont and rise in rebellion. It came to pass just as he said. He warned me not to reveal what you had done for me to anyone, not even Demont. It was for your protection and the protection of Muirwood. The only exception I negotiated was my sister. She knows.”