The Ciphers of Muirwood (30 page)

Maia passed the oaths almost ridiculously fast. There was something about her affinity for Leerings, but as soon as she saw them all, carved into the seven pillars, she immediately understood them, their purpose, and the oath required to silence all seven at once. She knew from her reading that learners usually silenced one at a time. Then she bathed her face in the pool, lay on the bier, and dressed in the chaen. Her only moment of concern came when she had to remove her clothes to put on the chaen. The brand on her shoulder and the kystrel’s mark on her chestbone felt like ugly stains that did not belong in such a clean place. She did not look at her own skin, dared not, and quickly covered the signs of her past with the chaen. As she slipped the chemise on over it, an instant feeling of safety enveloped her, and when she dressed in the maston robes, it was as if a warm blanket had fallen across her shoulders. She felt clean and resolute, determined never to let the Myriad Ones infest her again. More importantly, she felt the Medium’s forgiveness and the approval radiating from the carved columns all around her. Each had a different creature or animal carved into it, the workmanship as exquisite as any she had ever seen.

The chaen would protect her from the Myriad Ones. She bowed her head, feeling so relieved to be wearing it at last. She thought suddenly of Collier and dearly hoped he would make good on his pledge and become a maston one day. Their marriage had not started off in the right way, but she desperately hoped they would at some point be bound by irrevocare sigil. He had seemed so affected by the Medium this night.

Maia sighed and stared at the stones set into the wall. The Medium drew her to one of them, so she approached and took it in her hand. It separated from the wall easily. She stared at the glowing white stone in her palm for a moment, absorbing the details of the intricate design carved into it. Letters appeared on the stone, written in a language she did not know.

Paix.

She stared at it and understood it through the whispers of the Medium. It was a simple word, a deep word, a word that described her deepest wish. Peace. It was a word that meant peace of conscience. Tranquility. Resolve. How strange that it was the one the Medium had chosen for her. She smiled and felt the stone burn her palm. The sensation made her flinch, but she managed to set it back down in the inlet rather than drop it. A pink mark showed on her palm, and she found herself smiling again, even though the hot stone had stung. Then she understood—it was a way of detecting other mastons, a way of knowing who was friend or foe.

Maia clasped her hands in front of her. The ritual was shorter than she had expected it to be. How long had she been in there? It did not feel long, but she would also not be surprised if the sun were just starting to rise. There was no sense of time in the chamber. No windows to show the sunlight or the fog.

Between two of the seven columns hung a veil. The columns next to it exuded power, and the eyes of the Leerings carved into them burned vividly. Maia summoned her courage and approached the Apse Veil. This was the moment for her to complete her special task, which she was unsure how to accomplish.

As she approached, she thought she could see the shadow of someone on the other side. Was it a mirror? Her mouth was dry with her nervousness, and the weariness from her long vigil suddenly weighed down on her. Yet the Medium caused a swelling sense of joy through her, which helped her stay alert.

Maia stood in front of the Apse Veil. She waited.

Nothing happened.

She did not panic. Instead she bowed her head, listening for the sound of the Medium’s whisper, waiting to be told what to do. She knew the Apse Veils were portals between worlds and not just between abbeys. Once they were opened, she would be able to pass between Muirwood and Comoros in an instant. It would allow her to visit any of the abbeys already finished in the other kingdoms. What a difference that would make in the political realities of her day, she realized. For that reason alone the Victus would fear the restoration of the Apse Veils.

Instead of hearing a whisper from the Medium, she heard a voice. A woman’s voice.

“Welcome. What do you seek?”

The voice sounded strangely familiar. Was it her grandmother speaking? It sounded like Sabine, but it was not her. There was a little formality to the voice.

“To become a maston,” Maia answered truthfully.

“What do you desire?”

She knew the answer immediately, and it spilled from her mouth. “I desire Idumea.”

“What is your name?” asked the woman. Who was she? Maia had no idea, but the idea gnawed at her. It could not be . . .

“Paix,”
Maia replied softly, her stomach fluttering, her heart burning with fire. She felt as if something huge and heavy had been dropped, like an enormous stone slab, and the stones at her feet trembled with the reverberation. There was no sound, but she could feel the ripples of the impact. She stared at the Apse Veil, her eyes widening.

The shape behind the shroud was nearly her own height. Maia tried to make out the person’s features, but she was unable to distinguish anything beyond the approximate size.

An urge compelled her to reach inside the Apse Veil with her hand. Maia swallowed her doubts, thrust away her worries. She obeyed the impulse and plunged her hand through the gap in the curtain.

She felt a warm hand clasp her own. Maia squeezed and felt as if she should pull. That surprised her. She had thought she was supposed to pass through the Apse Veil herself. But again, although she did not understand why, she obeyed the impulse.

The Apse Veil parted, and a woman emerged wearing hunter leathers. Maia saw the blade belted to her waist, the cloak pinned with a brooch at her throat. And the face . . . it was like looking at her grandmother . . . almost a twin. Except her hair still had some gold in it and was not all gray. A thin tiara of gold was nestled in the curly stands.

Maia stared in disbelief, understanding striking her like a flood.

“Thank you,” Lia said, smiling at her warmly. “You are now a maston, Maia.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Covenant Fulfilled

M
aia’s heart leaped with surprise and confusion, and hope flooded her. Lia’s manner of dress was different than any she had seen. The stitching on her leathers and bracers was Pry-rian in style, but it did not resemble any of the styles Maia had seen when she lived on the Pry-rian border as a young girl.

Lia reached forward and took Maia’s hands, squeezing them with enthusiasm. Her smile was like the sunlight, and it warmed Maia’s heart. Then one of her hands grazed up to Maia’s hair and smoothed part of it away from her face.

“I have seen you in visions, Maia. But to behold you now . . . such a strange sensation. My father was the ruler of Pry-Ree, and he had the Gift of Seering, looking into the future. He was able to see my future, just as I have been able to see your life. When I left these shores,” she continued, staring up at the vaulted ceiling of the chamber, “I saw you coming. Your grandmother and I noticed each other, for her Gift shows the past, while mine focuses more on the future. I am here, Maia, to help you.” She clasped her hands again.

The relief Maia felt was intense. “We have not known what to do,” she said. “You will help us, truly?”

“Yes. I knew this day would come. Now that you are a maston, you will receive another Gift. You already have it, though you probably do not appreciate what it is, just as I did not appreciate my Gift of Seering before it was revealed to me by Maderos.”

“Maderos?” Maia asked in startled surprise. “The wanderer I met in Mon?”

Lia nodded. “He is still engraving the history of my Family. And he will continue to do so until Ereshkigal is bound for a season. That is the destiny of my Family, Maia.”

“Is it part of mine?” she wondered.

The smile quirked on Lia’s mouth. “I will only tell you what you need to know to move forward. My entire path was not revealed to me after taking the maston test. The Medium will continue to guide you. Now, kneel.”

Maia did so, kneeling in front of the woman who should be as old as the trees, but instead looked so young. She was confused by this, wondering how it had happened. Then she remembered hearing that Lia had disappeared on Sabine’s mother’s nameday ceremony. Lia had left behind her tome and the Cruciger orb. Surely . . .

Lia put one hand on Maia’s head and lifted her other arm in the maston sign. Maia quickly closed her eyes, folding her hands in front of her. As she felt the warm touch on her scalp, the power of the Medium built in the room, making the stones tremble. The
feeling slit through her like a knife, penetrating her to her core.

“Marciana Soliven,” Lia said, “I bestow upon you a Gift. You are strong in the Medium. You have always been strong. It is part of your lineage. You have great faith and a willingness to seek out the Medium’s will. With such great power comes the duty to use that power to serve and help others. I bestow upon you the Gift of
Invocation. You have already felt these powers stirring inside you. It
is the Gift of understanding Leerings, knowing their powers, know
ing how to control them, how to make them, and how to
unmake
them. It is a rare Gift to be found for one who is not already an Aldermaston. This Gift is yours and will help you in the purposes the Medium would have you fulfill. By Idumea’s hand, make it so.”

Upon hearing the benediction, Maia opened her eyes. Lia helped her to her feet, her grip strong and steady.

“How are you here?” Maia whispered, staring at her in awe.

Resting a hand on Maia’s shoulder, Lia gestured back to the Apse Veil. “This is the most sacred part of the abbey, Maia. Crossing the Apse Veil requires power with the Medium. In my day, a maston could effortlessly travel between abbeys anywhere in the realms. But as the abbeys were destroyed through rebellion and the hetaera’s powers, the Apse Veils ceased to function. Through my Gift of Seering, I knew of the threat to Muirwood and the maston order. I knew about your father and what he would do if unchecked. I departed this afternoon from Assinica. Time has not passed for me as it has for your ancestors. It was my granddaughter’s name day and I kissed her little brow and whispered good-bye, promising I would help her great-grandchild. The Apse Veils allow us to travel not just from abbey to abbey, but also within time itself or between worlds. The Covenant of Muirwood must be fulfilled. We have come to help it.”

“We?” Maia asked, eyes widening.

Lia gave her that knowing smile again. She turned and walked back to the Apse Veil and thrust her hand through the fold. A shadow appeared on the other side and then a man stepped through, his hair as silver as a wolf’s pelt. He was about as tall as Collier and even wider at the shoulders. Though he was an older man, he was fit and strong and wore a maston sword belted to his waist and the collar of a knight around his neck. He was handsome and stern, but he smiled when he saw Lia.

“We have returned,” he murmured softly, his voice deep and solemn, glancing around the chamber and then at Maia. He smiled affectionately at her and stepped forward to pull her into an embrace.

“You are . . . Colvin?” Maia gasped, blinking back tears.

He nodded, squeezing her hard as he stared down at her in awe. She saw a small scar on the corner of his eyebrow, another on his chin. He turned to Lia. “We must bring the others through.”

“The mastons from Assinica?” Maia asked, her heart bursting with joy. She wished her grandmother were in the room with them.

Lia shook her head. “No, not yet. We must bring through my guardians, the Evnissyen, and some of my household knights. The people of Assinica, in your time, are peaceful. There has not been war among them for a hundred years. Some have read about it in tomes, but they are not familiar with the hatred of mankind. What you need now, Maia, is help from us, from those who fought to preserve the maston order a century ago.” She nodded at Colvin. “Bring them through.”

Maia’s eyes blinked. “My father,” she gasped.

“Is no longer fit to rule Comoros,” Lia said gravely. “He brought few soldiers to subdue Muirwood, believing it to be defenseless and meek.” Her gaze hardened. “You must summon the abbey’s defenses, Maia. You must protect and preserve these hallowed grounds. I will help teach you as we go. Come with me.”

Colvin went back to the Apse Veil and reached through to pull another man into the room. He was older as well, but more youthful than Lia and Colvin.

“Ah, Jouvent Evnissyen,” Lia said with a smile. “Welcome. Send a group to block the roads leading from the abbey. None of the king’s men must escape. Bring everyone to the green with the maypole when they are captured. Today is Whitsunday!”

Fog swirled around the ground, thick and ghostly. Maia stood before the gates of the abbey, facing the village of Muirwood. A crowd had assembled on the other side as well, soldiers as well as most of the villagers, come to witness the confrontation of the High Seer and Aldermaston with the King of Comoros. Collier stood by Maia’s side, his expression hard and grim. One hand clenched the pommel of his blade. The other hand grasped hers possessively. They stood in a line with the Aldermaston and his wife and steward, Maia’s grandmother, and Lia and Colvin. The Evnissyen slipped in and out of view in the fog as they hurried to fulfill the orders they had been given. Knights of the Order of Winterrowd were clustered nearby, faces grim and fierce, wearing chain hauberks and gauntlets, each with a hand resting on the pommel of their knight-maston swords. Jon Tayt stood just behind Sabine, his copper beard wet with dew, his hands clenched around two throwing axes, his gaze full of menace. Dodd Price was beside him, dressed in a hauberk and gripping a battle-axe.

Maia quelled the feeling of nervousness that thrummed through her. She blinked away tears, amazed at the sudden change in events. A raven cawed somewhere in the mist and then a series of roosters crowed. It was dawn, but the sun could not be seen through the dense fog.

There was a commotion in the crowd outside the gates and the jangle of spurs and armor. The crowd parted, giving way to the soldiers. There was her father, wearing a puffed tunic that glittered with gems, furs, and ribbed pleats. A ceremonial sword was belted across his waist, the hilt polished and gleaming. He wore a wide felt hat with several enormous plumed feathers. Ornate necklaces and rings, fashionable boots and cuffs, ruffled shirt. There was a stark contrast between his dress and the simple garb of Lia and her hunters and those within the gates.

Walking next to the king, clinging to his arm with white fingers, was Lady Deorwynn. Her headdress was also ornate to the point of gaudiness, and her gown more extravagant than any Maia had ever seen. The dress was fringed with gold and inlaid with pearls and ivy-patterns stitched in gold thread. The necklace around her throat had rubies the size of cherries, and the girdle was cinched in so tightly Maia did not know how she could breathe in it. Her lips were painted; her cheeks were rouged to provide some color to her pallid skin. Her eyes, despite the smears of color, looked bleached and troubled. In them, Maia saw an odd mixture of pride, defiance, and—strangely—guilt. Murer stood next to her, also dressed in the finery befitting a princess of Comoros. Jolecia was also there. The entire Privy Council was assembled around the king, and though each wore a plumed hat, Maia recognized their faces: the Earl of Forshee, the Earl of Caspur, the Earl of Norris-York, the Earl of Passey, Chancellor Crabwell, Captain Carew and his retinue. Each had tried to outdo the others with an exaggerated demonstration of wealth and power.

As her father approached the gate, the Aldermaston motioned
for the gatekeeper to open it. It was unusually quiet considering the
size of the assemblage, and the groaning of the iron bars filled the air.

Standing near Lady Deorwynn was Aldermaston Kranmir, his black hat standing out vividly in the fog. His mouth quirked into a frown as he observed those who had assembled to meet them, and a flicker of worry crossed his face.

“Well met, Aldermaston!” the king shouted as his group entered the grounds. His boots squished in the damp ground, and he paused on the threshold. He winced, staring up as if the sun were bothering him, but there was no sunlight to be seen. “I am a little surprised you abdicated willingly, but it was a wise choice. Who are your friends?” he asked, as if suddenly seeing Lia and Colvin and the knights and Evnissyen for the first time. The sight of their grim, defiant expressions caused the king’s brow to wrinkle with uncertainty.

“You misunderstand my demonstration of hospitality,” Aldermaston Syon said. “I bid you welcome as the ruler of Comoros to the domains of Muirwood as a guest.”

“What is this nonsense, Richard?” the Earl of Forshee snarled derisively. “Are you daft?”

The Aldermaston stared at him patiently.

“We discussed this yesterday, what would happen if you defied me,” the king said through gritted teeth. “Who are these people?” He glanced at Lia and Colvin suspiciously.

“Allow me to introduce them,” Sabine said, stepping forward. “My lord king, the Apse Veil has been opened. These are the first visitors. This is Lia Demont, Princess of Pry-Ree, and her husband, Lord Colvin Price, the
true
Earl of Forshee.”

Maia’s father snorted in disbelief. “Is it now?” he said, stifling an incredulous chuckle. “Kranmir, you misjudged the High Seer’s desperation. Sabine, I truly did not believe you would to stoop to such base trickery. Shall I applaud the performance? Is that what you wish?” His voice was slurred with contempt.

Maia stared at him, implored him with her eyes. He would not look at her. He cast his gaze across the others instead. “If you wish me to shame you in front of the villagers, so be it. I did not wish for this to happen. I hoped you would all be persuaded by reason. The truth is, the maston traditions are a myth. You expect me to
believe
that you have summoned our dead ancestors through the Apse Veil to secure your right to rule in Comoros? What kind of fool do you think I am?”

“A rather conspicuous one,” Lia said bluntly. She glanced up at the mist-shrouded sky. “This fog has plagued us for quite long enough. It will cease.
Now.
” She held up her hand in the maston sign, the signal she had given Maia earlier.