The Ciphers of Muirwood (33 page)

The overwhelming feelings made her knees tremble. “I must ask you this, Lia. It may be my last opportunity.”

“Very well.”

“I visited the Leering in Dahomey. The hetaera Leering that you cursed.” She swallowed, summoning her courage to ask the question, fearing what the answer would be. “I did not accept the brand . . . willingly. I abhor the hetaera and what they stand for. Being a maston now, I understand the implications more fully, and I deeply regret what happened. Is there no way—Lia, I killed an Aldermaston with a kiss. I would give
anything
for this stain to be purged from me.”

Lia looked at her with deep sadness, and Maia knew the answer before she spoke it. “I cannot.” She winced as she said the words. “The Scourge was bound by irrevocare sigil. Even if you were to destroy the Leering, the curse would still exist. Maia, Ereshkigal’s thirst for revenge will never be sated. She will always attempt to destroy us. In every world governed by Idumea, there are mastons and there are hetaera. And there are kishion who murder and men like the Victus who plot for power. Even if every last one of these evildoers were destroyed, others would rise up. This is a war that has been fought for millennia throughout the spinning weave of the heavens. And it will continue to be fought for all time.” She rested her hand on Maia’s shoulder. “If I could remove this from you, I would. Sometimes we suffer because of our own choices. And sometimes we suffer because of the choices of others. But suffering brings wisdom. Do not underestimate the Medium’s compassion for what we endure. Believe, Maia. It is
your
faith and strength that will inspire kingdoms yet born.”

It was not the answer she wished. But she was not surprised by it. Somehow, she had known she would have to endure the mark for the rest of her life. She knew that someday, if her life was lived in adherence to her maston oaths, she would be given a new body in Idumea, one free of the hetaera’s taint.

Glancing over at Colvin and Collier, she marveled at her husband’s willingness to endure the restrictions of her curse.

Lia looked over at her husband expectantly. “There are wonderful memories for us to revisit here. If you will excuse us, Colvin and I would like to walk the grounds a little longer.” As she walked over to Colvin, Collier bid his farewells to them both and joined Maia.

Maia watched thoughtfully as Lia and Colvin walked off together, heads bent low as they spoke and gazed at the sunlit grounds. The depth of their friendship, their love, and their bond was obvious. It had not always been that way, she realized with a spark of hope. Perhaps she and Collier would one day share an equally strong bond.

“You were gone longer than you suggested,” Collier said, folding his arms, also staring after the two as they wandered away.

“I am sorry.”

“I am glad. Colvin and I had a good talk.”

“About swords?” Maia teased, trying to lighten her own mood from the heavy oppression of her conversation with Lia.

“About stones,” Collier replied. “He is a wise man.”

“Tell me,” Maia said briskly, linking arms with him and starting toward the Cider Orchard. She was hungry for another apple.

“I asked him when he knew the Medium was real. Is it something he learned from reading a tome? An experience that he had? His answer surprised me. It surprised me because I could relate to it.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “It was something his father taught him. Imagine a stone in a heath—one side facing the sky and the light, the underside facing the dirt with all its worms and insects. It takes effort to raise the stone enough to topple it over so that the underside faces the sky. It takes effort up to a point, and then the slightest touch will topple it. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, I envision that.”

“When Colvin was a child, he was like the stone facing the sky. He grew up believing in the Medium, and he enjoyed the signs and wonders of it. When his mother died giving birth to his sister, it was as if some great force had upended him, and he found himself facedown in the muck, unable to see or experience what he had before. All was darkness, doubt, and despair. It changed so quickly. He could not access the Medium because of his
attitude
. If he had retained that attitude, he would have never felt the Medium again. But by applying himself, by reading the tomes and studying, he began to lift himself up until he reached the tipping point again. And then everything from the past returned to him.” He stopped and turned to face her, their arms still linked. “That is how it felt for me, like it all came rushing back to my memory. Things I had forgotten long ago.” He looked dazed. “It is all back again in a rush. There are things I did, Maia . . .” He stopped, swallowing. “When I believed the mastons were lying, I did things I now regret. But I no longer feel enmity for the beliefs. I must repair . . . maybe that is not the right word, but I know of no other. I must repair the harm I did. I plan to ask the Aldermaston and Sabine what I can do to correct things. But for the first time in my life, I feel it is possible to hope.”

He stared at the afternoon sky, his countenance different than she had ever seen it. He looked more serene and infinitely more handsome to her than when she had first met him.

We must never give up what we most want in life for something we think we want now. All things received begin with a thought. Therefore, we must be cautious what we allow ourselves to think.

—Richard Syon, Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Whitsunday

S
uzenne had let Maia wear one of her fancier dresses for the Whitsunday celebration, and they walked arm in arm to the abbey gates leading to the green. The sun was just setting, though the village of Muirwood was aglow, and not just from the hanging lanterns. The abbey itself radiated peaceful, iridescent light from its many Leerings. In the distance, the tower on the Tor could barely be seen above the trees, and the few fleecy clouds did little to mask the striated orange and pink of the sky.

“I am grateful we took a little rest before the celebration,” Suzenne said, smiling. “This day has ended so much differently than I feared it might. This morning with the fog and battle, I was dreading the abbey would be overthrown by nightfall.”

Music started playing on the green, and a cluster of learners raced past them in their eagerness to join the celebration. A crowd had gathered in the green, and the sight of all the flowing gowns and clean tunics, the smell of sizzling meat and baked treats, and the sound of clapping and viols made Maia smile with relish. This was not her first Whitsunday, but it was her first opportunity to enjoy one since she had come of age. There was a grave conflict looming ahead, but they had won an important battle that day, and it felt proper to celebrate.

Waiting for them just outside the gates, she spied Collier and Dodd. Both were dressed in more formal attire that highlighted their handsome features. Collier was taller and cut a more dark and brooding figure, but his face brightened when he saw her, his mouth forming an admiring smile that made her blush. Dodd greeted Suzenne with an affectionate hug and smashed his mouth against hers in an eager kiss that made Maia wince with residual pain.

Collier bowed ceremoniously and then took her hands in his, drawing her away from the couple. “You look stunning,” he murmured to her, dipping his head and grazing his lips across her knuckles. “I was determined to wait outside the gate for you, for I knew if I did not, you would be snatched away by a dozen little first-year learner brats and I would not get the chance to dance with you without threatening bloodshed.” He winked and put his arm around her, guiding her at a languid pace toward the maypole. Her heart fluttered with the excitement and simple joy of being able to experience this moment with him.

“You were kind to wait for me,” she answered graciously. “Though you had me all to yourself at the Gables in Briec.”

He smiled at the shared memory, then reached over and touched her long hair. His eyes were shining, so blue they seemed like the spring sky speckled with sunlight. She felt a familiar longing as she gazed up at him, an ache that lodged inside her breastbone.

“I need to stop looking at you,” he admitted, turning away and chuckling to himself. “You distract any sensible thoughts from my brain. It makes me want to kiss you, and I know I should not, especially after what Lia told you.” He squeezed her hand. “Thus I must take my enjoyment of you in other ways. Through tender caresses and longing glances.” He butted her arm with his. “Ah, look at those two. It is poignant to see.”

Maia thought he meant Suzenne and Dodd, but he was nodding toward the maypole dance already under way. The circle was large, for there were many who were anxious to dance the first set, but Maia’s gaze cut straight to Lia and Colvin. Hand in hand, they skipped around to the claps of the onlookers and the strain of the minstrels’ music. The look on their faces said they could not see anyone but each other. Maia knew much of their story—in particular, how the Medium had kept them apart for the sake of duty and to preserve the lives of their friends and Family. Maia was named after Colvin’s sister, and she felt a keen sense of affinity and kinship to them for the many separations they had needed to endure before being together.

Maia and Collier walked together, watching the dance, and passed the booth of treats from Collet’s kitchen. She stopped to greet the cook and her two helpers, who were not old enough to participate in the dancing. Aloia and Davi shared an almost mournful expression of longing. When the two girls noticed Maia and Collier, they gawked blatantly.

“Have you noticed the Evnissyen shadowing us?” Collier whispered in Maia’s ear as they walked away from the kitchen stand.

She had not, so she circumspectly glanced around. Warriors were indeed wandering through the revelers, including Jon Tayt, who kept a respectful distance away from them. She noticed Jon Tayt speaking to the others and imagined he was revealing to his countrymen and ancestors the possible dangers lurking and where the best food could be found as they shadowed Maia and Collier.

“They are watching carefully for any danger tonight,” Maia said. “Look, there is my father.”

“I would rather not,” he replied curtly. “He is with the Sexton girl.” He grunted disparagingly.

Maia’s stomach twisted with unease as she took in the sight of
them. The poor girl looked uncomfortable on the king’s arm, though
Maia’s father was laughing and joking with several of his courtiers, looking for all the world as if he were celebrating the festival as he
had intended, and his plans had not gone awry only a few hours ago.

She sighed. “I wish we could rescue Jayn from him. I have not met her yet. I sense Jayn desperately wishes to talk to Suzenne.”

“If my lady wishes it, then I will arrange it. Even though I find it distasteful. Would you like some cider?” he asked, motioning toward a cart.

“Yes, please.”

He fetched two cups, paid the man, and gave one to Maia. Made from the famous Muirwood apples, the cider was sweet and full of flavor. The first song came to an end, and the dancers dispersed, many to find new partners. Collier bowed to her gallantly, requested her hand, and then escorted her to the new ring as it assembled. Though she had danced with Collier before, she felt strangely nervous. She felt several eyes seeking her out and noticed Suzenne and Dodd had joined the circle as well. The music began, and suddenly she was flying, experiencing the giddy thrill of the maypole dance with a partner for the first time in her life.

The night seemed to pass as a dream. Maia’s legs were weary from the constant motion, but although she was tired, she did not want to miss a single moment.

After resting for a spell after a dance, Collier touched her shoulder. “Watch for the opening and be ready,” he said, his mouth pressing against the hair by her ear. He tousled some strands, smiling at her, and promptly left her side and walked up to her father, who was reveling nearby. She heard Collier speak to him, asking for an opportunity to address a particular matter with him in private. Her father looked annoyed, but he broke away from his escort and allowed Collier to lead him toward the musicians. That left Jayn Sexton alone, and Maia seized the opportunity to approach the girl. As soon as she saw Maia, Jayn flushed and did a deep curtsy.

“You are Jayn Sexton,” Maia said, motioning a hand for the girl to abandon the formality.

“And you are Lady Maia,” the girl replied in a meek voice.

“There is someone here who wishes to see you,” Maia said. “Will you walk with me?”

Jayn glanced back at the king, her face pinching with worry, but then nodded vigorously. Maia linked arms with her and led her away. She was as quiet as ashes as they walked and kept glancing back at the king, who was engrossed in conversation with Collier.

“I hope you are not afraid of me,” Maia said softly. “I bear you no ill will, Jayn.”

The girl looked at her in stunned silence. She was a pretty girl, for certain, and the quality of her gown showed her fine youthful figure. She had dark hair, though lighter than Maia’s own, paired with dark eyes. “I did not know how you might feel about me,” she confessed in a trembling way. “I imagined you might be resentful.”

“I am not,” Maia said, shaking her head. “There are Suzenne and Dodd. She wanted to see you, but did not think she would get a chance.”

Jayn’s face brightened visibly when she saw her friend. When Suzenne saw her, she smiled with delight and rushed forward to pull her into a feverish embrace. It made Maia smile to see them so affectionate with each other. The girls started to speak to each other in hushed tones. Maia was about to slip away to give them some privacy, but Suzenne reached out and caught her wrist.

“Jayn, you do not know Maia very well. But let me say that she reminds me so much of you. Your temperaments are very similar. You care for every forgotten creature and are kind to anyone, regardless of their station. Maia, as you know, Jayn was my companion for many years while we were learners.” Her expression turned serious. “She is still one of us, a Cipher,” she added.

Jayn smiled demurely. “I have sent the Aldermaston’s wife messages as I could,” she explained. “I brought her news today of your father’s reaction to the events thus far. He is furious with Lady Deorwynn. I have never seen him so wroth, and I have often seen him angry.” Jayn looked at Maia in desperation. “She is still my lady whom I serve, and I fear for her.” She swallowed. “I fear the king may do more than banish her. He sent Crabwell hastily back to Comoros.”

“I observed that as well,” Maia said, intrigued. “What does he intend?”

Jayn glanced back at Collier and the king, biting her lip. “Crabwell interrogated me about my mistress before we left Comoros. There have been rumors of her infidelity for many weeks now. Lady Deorwynn made sure to keep such activities from my awareness, of course, but her daughters knew of it. I am not often . . . in her company anymore.” She looked both guilty and miserable. “But the accusation Lia made against her is true. I have heard both of those men mentioned by Murer and Jolecia, and they would always give each other a knowing look. Only through the Gift of Seering could she have known something like that. The evidence she mentioned must be kept very secret. I am sure Crabwell rides to intercept that evidence before Lady Deorwynn can destroy it. When the king sees proof, he plans to execute her.”

Maia stared at her in shock. “Truly? No one has ever executed a woman for adultery.”

Jayn shook her head. “Not for adultery. For treason. I have heard him whisper of this to his advisors. He will make a public example of her.” Maia felt sick inside at the thought of her father executing his own wife. And of course, the hypocrisy of it galled her.

“He is looking for me,” Jayn said, her eyes feverish. “I must go. Be careful, Lady Maia. He is not pleased with you, either. You shamed him this morning. He never forgets a slight. I must go.” She reached out and squeezed Suzenne’s hand fiercely. Her eyes were smoldering. “I am
still
a maston,” she breathed, clutching her friend’s hand.

Maia and Suzenne watched her hasten to the king’s side. Her expression changed as she approached him, like she was putting on a mask, and she bowed before Maia’s father and said something they could not hear. Maia was saddened by what they had learned from Jayn Sexton, but she was so proud of her for holding firm to her maston oaths. The king looked a little peevish, but he took the girl’s hand in his, kissed it, and stepped in front of the maypole as the next round of dancers assembled. He raised his hand, and all fell silent.

“We are pleased,” he said in a rich, ebullient voice, “that you have enjoyed this Whitsunday festival. It is our solemn honor to preside over this festivity. The tradition of the maypole dance is quite familiar to you all. With us, this evening, we enjoy the companionship of the King of Dahomey. In his honor, I would like to introduce a dance known as the Volta, which is a favorite of his court at Rexenne. It is similar to the galliard, but with a twist. My son, if you would demonstrate the first set, we shall all accompany you in the second.”

The ring dancers stepped back, and Collier approached the fluttering maypole. He turned to Maia, bowed gracefully, and extended his hand in invitation. Now she understood. He had arranged this with her father in her absence.

Maia approached him and dropped into a deep curtsy before him. She took Collier’s hand, feeling its warmth, and stared into his piercing eyes.

“For Briec,” he whispered, winking at her.