The Blight of Muirwood (50 page)

Lia had difficulty walking fast, but at least she could put her weight on her leg again. It was sore every night, but she tried to walk further and further each day. When she gained her strength fully, she wanted to be ready to cross the Apse Veil to Dochte and Tintern. A bandage wrapped her palm and it hurt when she clenched her fist, but her fingers worked and the pain lessened each day.

She called him Seth now, instead of Scarseth, which is the name he was known in the Abbey during his time as a wretched. Seth Page.

“I have been meaning to ask you something, Lia.” He looked down at the grass, uncomfortable. Since the Aldermaston had restored his speech, he was more soft-spoken than she remembered. More observant. Sometimes his expression looked tortured.

“What is it?”

“How is your leg feeling?”

“You wanted to know how my leg is feeling?” she asked, confused.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I was asking if you wanted to rest a bit. The kitchen does not seem very far, but you were starting to limp more back there. I wanted to talk to you.”

She nodded and slowly sank into the grass on the edge of the hill, staring out the expanse of water. He joined her, but did not look at her. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he also stared towards the setting sun. “The Aldermaston said you knew how Martin died.” His voice was stiff, controlled.

There was a pain in Lia’s heart at the mention of him. “I did not see it happen,” she said.

“But you heard it.” He sighed deeply. “I did not think anything could kill that man. I remember the first time I saw him. It made an impression, I tell you.”

“The Aldermaston in Pry-Ree called the creature a Fear Liath. Colvin called it a grey-rank.”

Seth hissed at the word. “Ssssttt. A grey-rank. Of course. Worse than a black bear. Fast too, so I have heard. I was surprised to learn he had died. But a grey-rank could do it.”

Lia turned to look at him. “I also remember the first time I saw Martin. In the kitchen.”

He smirked. “No, you do not remember the first time, Lia. You were just a baby. But I remember that night.”

Something chilled inside of her. “What do you remember about it?”

“I remember it because Martin cried. Never saw that old buzzard cry before. It was not long after the fall of Pry-Ree. That was sixteen years ago.”

“But I am only fifteen,” Lia said, confused.

He looked at her. “Really? I remember it very well. But maybe I am wrong. It was a long time ago.”

“Why did Martin cry when he saw me?”

Seth looked back out at the lake. “What do you know about him?”

Lia thought for a moment. “He is Pry-rian obviously. A hunter. He was working for the Aldermaston for years before I was abandoned here. Pasqua told me that. He had been in Muirwood for…I do not know…say four or five years before that?”

“I remember when he came,” he said softly. “He was the captain of the Prince’s guard. The Pry-rian ruler’s guard. They rode down from Bridgestow to Comoros but they stopped at Muirwood with their retinue. All of the guardsmen had the same uniform. Leather girdle and bracers, like you wear. A gladius instead of a long sword. They all had bows as well. Dangerous men, all of them. The Prince and the Aldermaston had several long conversations together. They went into the Abbey too, for the Prince was a maston.”

Lia’s heart surged with fire. The flood from the Medium was choking her breath. Pieces of the story began to fit together in her mind, interlocking like sculpted stones. “I did not know he was part of the Prince’s guard.” The Aldermaston had already told her the story of the Pry-rian prince who had come to Muirwood on the way to Comoros.

“Yes. But it was odd that he left Martin behind. I mean, as captain of the guard, why stay behind at Muirwood when your master is treating with his enemies in Comoros? I do not know why it happened. Only that Martin became the Abbey’s hunter and sought an apprentice.” His look darkened. “A position which I felt should have been mine.”

“But you were the Aldermaston’s page instead? You delivered his messages…”

“And carried his laundry to the lavenders, and fetched this and fetched that.” His voice was thick with resentment. “How I hated it! Always being told where to go and what to do. But Martin was free to roam the Bearden Muir. He would be gone for days at a time and I could not wait until he returned. When Jon was named as the apprentice, I was sick with envy. It was the Aldermaston’s choice of course, and he knew how much I wanted it. But he would not give it to me. But still, I took every advantage I could to befriend Martin. He…he was like a father to me. He taught me little skills and tricks. Not as much as he taught Jon. After he was chosen, I scorned him though we used to be friends. When we were younger, I would thrash him because I was bigger and stronger.” His eyes focused on nothing at all, lost in the memories and the feelings. “But when he turned thirteen, I could not hurt him anymore. He grew strong and quick with all the things Martin taught him. The fights we used to have ended badly for me. My best weapons were words. How I would spit them at him! But he learned to keep tight rein on his feelings. That was something I could never do.”

Lia listened with enormous interest. “I never knew you two were rivals.”

He shook his head. “He never told Martin about what I did to him. He was quiet, that one. Always kept things inside. He adored Ailsa Cook, but he never told her. She was my age, but he was daft over her. Do you remember her working in the kitchen when you were little? She was taught by Pasqua and helped tend you and Sowe. She was always good with babies.” He sighed. “I should have been as wise as Jon. Ailsa was a good girl. She was a friend to everyone. But I loved one of the learners. My one advantage of being the page was delivering messages to the cloisters. I was teased, of course. Makes my ears burn to remember some of the things they said to me. But there was one who I would have done anything for. She and her friends sighed about Jon. Every month he seemed to sprout more and more. But he was so quiet. He would say nothing to
any
of the girls. I had always been a good talker. If I were the hunter, if I were the one who wore a gladius and leathers and roamed where I chose, things would be better. I believed that. But I was wrong. I was so hateful, so angry with the Aldermaston for not choosing me. I blamed him for my own failings. Every snub was his fault. Every mocking look by the girl I craved was because of him.” He sighed. “I will tell you the rest. I already confessed to the Aldermaston. When he asked me to be his hunter now, all these years later…well, you can imagine I hardly feel worthy of the privilege. But I need to have it out. I have been carrying it so long.”

He looked down at the grass.

“Tell me,” Lia whispered, touching his back comfortingly.

He looked at her, his face burning with shame. “The Aldermaston was right not to let me be the hunter. I was already disloyal to him as a page. He should never have trusted me, yet he did.” He rubbed his eyes and stared back out over the lake. “I would wander around the Abbey at night, stealing things. A treat from Pasqua’s kitchen. Something from the learners. I got very good at keeping quiet, at skulking around in the dark. At night, the grounds were mine – to wander where I chose, like a hunter. As I got older, I began to do worse things. Spy on people. I would break little pieces of the window so that I could listen in on conversations. I knew when all the learners were studying, and I would go through their belongings. Sometimes I would steal from them. I wondered if the Aldermaston suspected, but he never accused me. No one ever caught me, I supposed. But it did happen eventually. The night I left Muirwood.”

Lia swallowed, waiting patiently for him to reveal himself.

“As I told you, I used to wander the grounds at night. I knew what happened after dark. I knew which learners stole away into the cemetary to kiss each other…and worse. I knew the secret habits of the Abbey. Who was brought in to see the Aldermaston at night to face punishment for their offenses.” He closed his eyes. “I knew many of their offenses and felt smug that I was never caught for mine. You grew up in the kitchen. You know that nearly everyone uses the main door. I used to climb the ridge of the rear door and look in the windows. You and Sowe were little, but I would try and catch glimpses of Ailsa. I was bored, nothing more. That night, she was bathing.” He shook his head, his face grimacing with shame. “And Jon found me. He thrashed me. He thrashed me good. I had never seen him so angry. He said he had seen me on other nights. He knew all along what I was doing. I thought I was being clever. He would tell the Aldermaston, he said. Worse, he would tell Martin…Martin – who I admired more than any man…who I loved as a father. I was sick with shame. I could not face them. So I left Muirwood, bleeding. I left with its scars on my face and in my soul…and hence my nickname.” He clenched his hands into fists and trembled with the pent-up emotions. “Of course, I turned the shame into accusation. I could not live with myself. It was the Aldermaston’s fault. If he had let me train with Martin, then Jon would not have found me out. The more I thought about it, the more I hated him and then everything about the Abbey. I left without completing my years of service.”

Lia felt pity for him. She had never known. No one had ever breathed the story, least of all Ailsa. “Where did you go?”

“I wandered the Bearden Muir a little. But I was good at sneaking around and stealing. I went from town to town, earning my coins with my fingers but mostly with my wits. I had a good memory, you see. I could hear something once and remember it. I mingled with the dregs of this kingdom and then took it into my head to sell what I knew to the sheriffs. I worked for Almaguer, who was always looking for a way to disgrace the Aldermaston. He hated Muirwood. So did I. Anytime a maston passed through the country, he would pay handsomely to know about it. I did not care about what happened when I told. I tried to ignore the whispers that they were being killed, one by one. I knew the sheriff was a part of it and I hoped that someday he would be strong enough to bring down Muirwood.” His teeth clenched and he shook his head. “Before Winterrowd, I was pretty good at my games. I was always looking to turn a profit. Sell information to Almaguer and then try to sell freedom to one being hunted. Or to deliver a message for the condemned. The night I dragged the Earl of Forshee…I knew I had someone important, though I did not know who it was. He was not just a maston…I knew he was a nobleman as well. They were starting to gather in this Hundred. I abandoned him at the kitchen, ready to earn my fee again. But somehow, you were the fox and I was the cub. When Almaguer arrived to claim him, he was gone. Oh, I was nearly killed for my treachery. I searched the grounds but could not find where you had hidden him. I was so afraid Jon would find me, I had to be very cautious. So I went back to you, to trick you into revealing him. Do you understand what the curse did to me? I could not speak! That was the way I earned my bread. The way I deceived people. I have spent a year not being able to speak. The medallion was the only way I could communicate, but only those who used the Medium could understand my thoughts.”

“When we met in the tunnel beneath the Pilgrim, you wanted me to open it. I thought you were going to kill me.”

“No!” he said, shaking his head violently. “I knew you could free me! When I discovered the Leering in the woods, the one you used to destroy Almaguer, I knew you were powerful with the Medium. Very powerful. You would be strong enough to destroy the medallion. I knew that. And so did the Queen Dowager. When she discovered me with the remnant of the king’s army, she took control of me. She is powerful too. I was forced to do her bidding. She wanted me to bring you to her. I never wanted to hurt you, Lia. Not when I knew how much Martin cherished you. I knew he did because he cried that night. The night you were brought to him.”

Lia seized his arm, staring at him intently. The Medium blazed in her mind and scorched her heart with the truth of it. “Brought to him?”

“It was after Pry-Ree’s fall. Not long after. He was the captain of the guard, remember? That night, I was roaming the Cider Orchard, stealing apples. There was a man with a basket. He was dressed like Martin. I thought it was him at first, when I saw the gladius. But he was younger. Wore the same leathers and hood. I followed him through the Orchard, quiet as could be. He took you to Martin, who was walking the grounds at dark. I was not close enough to hear everything that was said, and I could not understand it because they spoke in Pry-rian. Martin wept bitterly, but he called you his granddaughter. I understood that much and hid in the shadows as the other man stole off. Martin stared at you for a time, teasing you in the basket. Then he dried his eyes, turned all gruff and serious again, and went to the kitchen and gave you to Pasqua to tend.” He sighed deeply. “He did not claim kin with you. I never knew why. He let you be raised as a wretched, even though he knew who you were.” He gave her a long and serious look. “That is why I never wanted to hurt you, lass. That is why I regret having stabbed you and deceived you. I must ask for your forgiveness, however long it takes me to earn it.”

With that, he slowly rose and wiped his nose. “Someday, I would like to visit the mountain where Martin died and ask his forgiveness as well. Maybe you will take me there…someday.”

Lia was stunned. Her feelings swam and churned. But it was not right. It was not settled. There was something wrong in what Seth had revealed to her. Nodding to him, she also rose and they walked in silence back to the kitchen. Thoughts spun through her mind. She sorted them out, putting them together, one by one. As she fit each thought in the right place, she felt the comforting throbs of the Medium reassuring her. It whispered that her insights were true. The Prince had visited Muirwood and left Martin behind. Traits of the Medium were often passed on to the next generation. Lia had the Gift of Seering. She must have had it from her father. Her father, who had visited Muirwood and had walked the same grounds. He had visited the inner depths of the Abbey and seen the altar. She had felt his presence when she had first entered the Abbey. The memory of it had whispered over the intervening years. She tried to keep each foot straight. Tried not to walk too hard, to wear herself out, but her heart hammered in her chest. Her thoughts blazed and arched and struck each other, causing more sparks of insight in her mind. Her father had seen what would happen. Had known that a protector would be needed. Why else would he leave the captain of his guard behind at the Abbey when he would be needed most in Comoros? Unless he knew that the captain was needed to protect his unborn child. To train those who would protect the child. To train the child.