The Ciphers of Muirwood (15 page)

Maia swallowed, trying to contain the nervousness blooming inside her. “What news is that?” she asked, but she suspected his answer.

“Every spy in every kingdom is searching for the King of Comoros’s missing daughter. All reports suggest she was taken to the Dochte Mandar in Naess, but no one has seen her there these many months. There are many rumors, my lady. Rumors that Lady Deorwynn had her poisoned.” He snorted. “The people have been demanding to see her. There are riots in the city, my lady. You may wear the robes of a wretched, but you cannot conceal your beauty.”

Jon Tayt hefted the axe, his eyes brooding with intention. Maia held up her hand, forestalling him.

“What is it you want?” Maia whispered.

“You admit it then?”

“I have admitted nothing. You are the one telling the story, Sheriff. What is it you want?”

A crooked smile crossed his face. “What many people want,” the sheriff answered, his voice harsh and cold. “Lady Deorwynn’s downfall. You are the true heir of Comoros, not Deorwynn’s brood.” He almost spat out the word. “There are many who seek her demise. I suspected your secret months ago. I have been very patient. Very discreet. You will find those traits distinctive about me, my lady. I know someone has been rifling through my correspondence. Someone here at the abbey. Someone not quite subtle enough.” His eyes burned into hers. “It may even be you. I summoned Chancellor Crabwell to Muirwood to test my conclusion. I believe you are Marciana, the king’s daughter, our
true
princess. How you came to be at Muirwood, I do not know. But this I will tell you. Chancellor Crabwell wishes to speak to you. He sent for Lady Clarencieux to help me locate your presence on the grounds. I am to bring you to him immediately.”

Maia stared at him, her insides twisting with confusion and dread. “What does Chancellor Crabwell have against Lady Deorwynn?”

The sheriff gave her that same crooked smile again. “They both seek to whisper in the king’s ear at night. They are bitter rivals and implacable enemies. She seeks his downfall and wishes to put one of her kinsmen in his place. It is a matter of great importance which of them will have the other killed first. The chancellor has used your disappearance to foster the rumors of your murder at her hand. So you see, Lady Maia, that locating you is a matter of supreme importance.” His eyes narrowed coldly. “Now come with me.”

The Medium is intent on your personal growth. That progress can be quick when you willingly allow it to lead you through every experience you encounter, whether it initially be to your individual liking or not.

—Richard Syon, Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Alliance

M
aia had first met Chancellor Crabwell when she was living in the attic of Lady Shilton’s manor in the most contemptible of circumstances. Even the poorest servants of the manor had been treated better than her. On that particular day, her father had come to visit, and Maia had been locked in her room to prevent her from seeing him. The only visit she had gotten that day was from Chancellor Crabwell and Captain Carew, one of her father’s personal knights, who had attempted to persuade her to renounce her titles. She had refused.

Chancellor Crabwell had aged—his dark hair was streaked with silver now, his brow wrinkled from the constant strain of stress, and his mouth puckered into a permanent frown. He wore a velvet cap with a badge on the fringe as well as the ceremonial stole of his office as chancellor. Crabwell was the man responsible for implementing her father’s wishes—no matter how depraved.

It was taking its toll on him.

“Out with you, hunter. And Sheriff, bar the doors,” Crabwell said with a sneer of command. They were in a private chamber in the abbey, away from the main hall. The full darkness of night had descended hours ago, but a few flickering lamps provided light.

Jon Tayt took a step forward, his hand gripping the axe haft, as it had been doing since the sheriff’s arrival at his lodge. “By Cheshu, you will have to throw me out, my lord. I do not obey you, and I am
not
leaving her here unprotected.”

Crabwell turned and looked at him with petulant annoyance. “And who are you, my good man?”

“He is the abbey hunter and my protector,” Maia said, stepping forward.

Crabwell’s brow furrowed into even tighter wrinkles. He snorted. “If I snap my fingers, the sheriff’s men will drag you from the abbey grounds and quite promptly remove your head. Do not meddle with me, sir. You do not want to provoke my enmity.”

Jon Tayt flushed, his eyes searing with fury. He stepped forward suddenly, before any of the guards could move, seized the chancellor’s wrist, and slammed it on the nearby table. He hefted the axe. “Which fingers were you intending to snap, my lord?” he said.

“Jon,” Maia said coaxingly, delicately.

Crabwell’s eyes widened with fear. A trickle of sweat went down his cheek. Several of the men had hands on hilts, but no one drew a weapon with the hunter so near the chancellor.

“You send men to the gallows often, do you not?” Jon Tayt leered.
“Well, I am good with an axe. And I am not from this country, nor do I hold any loyalty to it. Send the sheriff and his men away.”

Crabwell coughed and then nodded to the sheriff to leave. “You are most persuasive, Master Hunter.”

Jon Tayt snorted. “I figured you would not be keen to spend the rest of your life scratching your nethers with a stump.”

Chancellor Crabwell nodded affirmatively. The door shut, and Jon Tayt released his arm. He walked over to the door and locked it.

“I am a student of history as well as the law,” Crabwell said, rubbing his wrist. It was clear he was not used to being handled so roughly. “I have a deep respect for the sharpness of Pry-rian arrows. And their uncanny aim.”

“It is in the fletching,” Jon Tayt said snidely. “Now to business. Did you come here to threaten her?”

“Of course not!” Crabwell said, incensed. “Lady Maia, the king’s daughter, you have been missing for some duration. Have you been hiding in Muirwood all this time?”

“I am not hiding in Muirwood, Chancellor,” Maia replied. She folded her arms, feeling the delicacy of the situation press in on her from all sides. Chancellor Crabwell was intimate with her father. Yet it appeared he had come to Muirwood in secret, summoned by the sheriff’s message. Without knowing the intricacies of the situation, she did not want to reveal too much.

“The facts seem to the contrary,” he said. “Look at you, wearing a wretched’s robe.”

“The last time we met I was wearing a scullery maid’s rags instead,” Maia replied. “You tried to persuade me to accept the Act of Inheritance. Now there is another decree. Are you here to persuade me again?”

“I am here,” Crabwell said, his voice throbbing with emotion, “because you are found at last!” He wiped his smooth mouth and then flicked away the trail of sweat. “My spies have been searching for you throughout all the realms. There are a thousand different rumors as to your whereabouts. Some say you were secretly wedded to the King of Dahomey. Some say you murdered a Prince of Hautland. Others that you destroyed an abbey. Rumors that I can scarcely credit.”

Maia felt her stomach lurch at the words. Dizziness washed over her, but she tried to keep her expression calm.

“What did my father tell you about my departure?” Maia asked, her mouth very dry.

Crabwell rubbed his eyes. “Very little. He said he was sending you away for a time and that when you returned, you would be more . . . docile. That was his very word. You seem to be the same headstrong girl I met years ago. But let me test it. Do you accept the Act of Inheritance?”

“No,” Maia answered flatly. “I am a princess.”

Crabwell continued. “Do you swear to uphold the Act of Submission on pain of treason?”

“I do not,” Maia said, shaking her head. “The king has no authority over the maston order. He was anointed by an Aldermaston. He cannot rise above the one who raised him.”

Crabwell smirked. “Yes,
docile
is not the word I would use. Where did you go, Lady Maia?”

Though she had managed to hide her reaction, the chancellor’s words had affirmed her darkest suspicions. Her father had sent her, deliberately, into the hetaera’s lair. Suppressed rage and crushed love bled inside her heart. Truly, her father had broken every vow.

“If my father did not trust you with that information, why should I?” she replied. “You are his chancellor.”

He stepped forward, his eyes glittering with emotion. “But I may not be for much longer,” he said in a low voice. “There is a . . . rivalry between Lady Deorwynn and myself. She seeks to undermine my authority and bring me down.”

“You seek the same for her,” Maia replied. “Why should that concern me?”

“I think it does,” Crabwell said, dropping his voice even lower. “I am not the only one who despises Lady Deorwynn and her ilk. Her relations have been so grasping. It is her uncle, you know, who is to become the new Aldermaston of Muirwood. He will be arriving in a fortnight, before Whitsunday, to prepare for his new domain. Much is transpiring in the realm right now, Maia.” Wiping his mouth, he turned aside and began to pace.

“Tell me,” Maia said, watching him. She schooled her emotions, keeping her expression wary.

“My spies have seen someone entering her chambers at night,” Crabwell said. “A man. I believe he is a hired killer.”

Maia frowned. “A kishion?”

He looked surprised she knew the word. “Indeed. Very secretly, I have been investigating Lady Deorwynn’s actions. Remember when you were poisoned? I received a report from Doctor Willem regarding the incident. I interviewed some witnesses, and I have reason to believe this kishion was brought to Comoros and paid for by Lady Deorwynn herself. You were his first target. Her husband, your father, is his second. You see, she wishes to rule Comoros herself. I believe she may be a hetaera. Do you know what that is, child?” He stopped to look at her as he said it.

Maia swallowed and nodded, her throat constricting with shock. She had always felt unsettled by the knowledge that her father had hired the kishion to protect her or destroy her. But had Lady Deorwynn used the same man to try and poison her? How could she hope to distinguish the truth from so many lies and evasions?

Crabwell wiped his mouth again and continued pacing.

“Why would she kill my father?” Maia asked hoarsely, still wrestling with the implications.

He looked at her in surprise. “Because he has fallen in love . . . again.”

Maia lowered her gaze, her heart twisting with anguish.
Not again, Father. Please, not again!
“Who is the girl?”

“One of Lady Deorwynn’s ladies,” Crabwell said with a shake of his head. “He was flirting with her during Lady Deorwynn’s pregnancy. When she miscarried, the king seemed to lose all interest in her and began to pursue—”

“What?” Maia asked, confused. “Lady Deorwynn lost the babe?”

Crabwell nodded. “The day after . . .” He stopped, swallowing. “The day after she caught her lady sitting on the king’s lap. Their marriage is crumbling into ashes before our eyes.”

Maia sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. It was happening again. She had little compassion for Lady Deorwynn, but she was not surprised to hear the woman had become frantic to prevent the collapse of her power.

“Oh, Chancellor,” Maia said, disheartened. “We have so many enemies without. Enemies who seek to prey on our kingdom. Yet we squabble within like children.”

Crabwell sniffed, stifling a chuckle. “Well said, Maia. The intrigue goes deeper. Lady Deorwynn is pushing your father to make an alliance with Dahomey. You may not know this, but the King of Dahomey was recently imprisoned and held for ransom.”

Maia’s brow crinkled and her heart raced. She struggled to keep her interest concealed. “I had heard this. You imply that he is free?”

Crabwell nodded vigorously. “The ransom is paid. I am certain he bankrupted his entire treasury and probably secured loans from Paeiz or Avinion for the remainder. It was truly a king’s ransom. He is an ambitious young man who owes a great debt, and he is agreeing to an alliance with Comoros. Lady Deorwynn seeks to marry him to her eldest daughter, Murer. He is arriving shortly to consummate the alliance and to be invested as an earl of the realm.” He snorted. “He will be given the earldom of Dieyre with its lands and income. That alone is worth fifty thousand marks. Ironic, is it not?”

Maia paled, her heart shuddering from the disappointing news. “Is it . . . is it certain?” she asked tremulously, struggling to maintain her composure.

“Your father needs allies and Dahomey needs money. The negotiations are still under way. As you can imagine, King Gideon is trying to squeeze this situation as best he can. If Lady Deorwynn succeeds, it will entrench her power even further. Her son will become a king, her daughter a queen, and her uncle will rule all the abbeys.”

Her heart burned with silent agony. Of course . . . Collier was furious. She could only imagine how injured he was by her betrayal. The thought of him divorcing her and marrying Murer caused unbearable pain, yet she kept her countenance and tried to think.

She forced herself to respond to the chancellor without revealing her upset feelings. “And what will she do with you, my lord?” she said in a small voice.

“She will have me executed, no doubt,” he said with venom. “And she will name the new Earl of Forshee as chancellor. He has been insufferable to me of late, no doubt relishing the prospect of gloating over my downfall.”

“By Cheshu,” Jon Tayt muttered, shaking his head. “You are a dead man, I think.”

Crabwell shot him a murderous look. “The dance has not finished the final chords yet, Master Hunter. There is time yet. As you see, the king no longer favors Lady Deorwynn. I have been trying to convince Lady Sexton to
encourage
the king’s affections. He is weary of quarreling with Lady Deorwynn. Lady Sexton is very meek—his wife’s opposite in every way. He tries to persuade her that she is saving his soul and bringing him back to the maston cause. I am not certain she believes him, but he can be quite charming when he wants something. Now, this is where you come in, Lady Maia.”

Lady Sexton
. The name sounded familiar, and she realized it was Suzenne’s friend who had left Muirwood the previous year.

He rubbed his hands together like a little child about to receive treats. She abhorred the gesture, but it revealed the delight he took in his machinations.

“I have been preparing evidence to charge Lady Deorwynn with murder. I have assembled enough evidence to charge her with hiring the kishion. And I have been fomenting rumors and gossip about your possible death throughout the realm in order to get the people to demand to see you. The king has been quite unsure of the situation, having lost you somewhere himself. His men have been searching for you as eagerly as mine. I plan to tell him that I have found you at last, that you were here all along, seeking to be reunited with your mother and pursue your studies to become a maston yourself.” He waved his hand. “Whether or not it is true does not matter. Lady Deorwynn has sensed my ploy and has been arguing, most forcefully, that your father should restore you to favor and give you your dower lands. She does this, of course, because she does not want to be blamed for your death. By arguing publicly for your restoration, she wets the flames crying in riot for
you
to become the heir of Comoros once again.”

Maia blinked, startled.

“Yes, my lady.” He grinned at her, his eyes widening with pleasure. “If we ally together, you and I, we may be able to right the ship of state and prevent it from crashing on the rocks. I do not want Lady Murer to wed the King of Dahomey. The more besotted the king becomes with Lady Jayn Sexton, the more fragile Lady Deorwynn’s hold will be. I have guards watching the king night and day to prevent his assassination. If he were to fall, we would all be ruined, including you. You are Lady Deorwynn’s biggest threat. While I trust you have a capable protector in this axe-wielding Pry-rian, I would not wager he would survive if a kishion came hunting you.”