The Ciphers of Muirwood (10 page)

“I did not intend it to sound that way,” Suzenne said, her voice trembling. “What I meant was that they are attempting to frighten you into action. Never do something out of fear. That is not the way of the Medium.”

“Now you are lecturing me about the Medium?” he said with a choked breath. Maia could almost hear his thoughts—part of him was straining to tell her that
he
was the one who had passed the maston test already. He did not say it.

“I was just trying to remind you,” she said imploringly.

“Thank you,” he said flatly. “Maia, will you help me?”

“I will talk to him,” she answered, keeping her tone neutral. She agreed with Suzenne and did not think it wise to leave the grounds in a hurry. “Meet me by the laundry after studies tomorrow. I will arrange it if I can.”

“Thank you,” he told her, with much more warmth. He gave Suzenne a confused look, then wandered back into the darkness, muttering something under his breath they were not meant to hear.

The iron grip from Suzenne’s hands finally loosened. There would be bruises.

“What did I do,” Suzenne said miserably, “beyond making everything even worse?”

Maia patted her hand, feeling the blood beginning to return to her fingers. “You must come too. I think the two of you are overdue a long talk,” she said.

The look of pain in Suzenne’s face convinced Maia she was right.

CHAPTER TEN

Resentment

T
he wind tossed their hair as Maia and Suzenne left their learner studies. The air had a pungent smell of soggy leaves and wet grass. The ground was a bit mushy as they tramped together toward the laundry, moving through the brisk and cutting wind.

“If I was ever under the sway of delusion before,” Suzenne said with a low voice, “it is over now. Maeg will have her revenge and today was just the first taste of it.”

“I am sorry,” Maia said, trying to comfort her.

“Do not apologize,” Suzenne responded. “I have seen the lengths she has gone to belittle others. I have never been the recipient before. Did you see how quickly Clara stepped in to fill the void? I suspect she has hated me for some time.”

Maia patted her arm, brushing away the strands of hair that blew in front of her nose. It had rained earlier in the day, but thankfully the rain had paused before the studies were over.

“My stepsisters are like that,” Maia said. “Ignoring them is the best possible remedy. Though the snubbing smarts.”

“I do not regret speaking up. The truth is, my stomach is a hive of bees right now, and not because of Maeg and Clara.” She sighed sharply. “I do not know what I am going to say to him.”

“Jon Tayt is really friendly. He is easy to talk to.”

Suzenne butted her with an elbow. “You
know
that is not who I meant.”

“Oh, you mean Dodd? The young man watching us over there?”

“Is he? Oh, Maia, why am I so nervous?” Her voice wrenched with dread.

The young man stepped away from the shelter of an oak and approached them through the squishy grass, his boots spraying flecks of water. He really was handsome, his tawny brown hair a little damp from the wet. He looked about as uncomfortable as Suzenne, his expression a mixture of anguish and delight.

“Hello, Dodd,” Maia greeted.

He nodded to her, but his eyes were on Suzenne’s face. “Hello,” he said softly. “Are you unwell?”

“I am well enough,” she replied, flushing darkly.

“You wanted to see Jon Tayt,” Maia said, steering them across the grounds toward the hunter’s lodge. “The clouds look as if they might burst any moment. We had best hurry.”

“Of course,” Dodd replied, falling in next to them. He deliberately walked alongside Suzenne.

The silence between them was fraught with unspoken emotion. “How is your Family?” he finally asked her. “Is your sister ready to become a learner?”

Suzenne looked at him sharply. “You remembered.”

“I knew there was a gap between your ages. Is she going to study at Muirwood as well?”

“Yes,” Suzenne replied. “I love this abbey. It is like home to me. I will be sad to leave it . . . after Whitsunday.”

The words added another jolt of tension to the moment.

“Yes, I may be leaving as well from the look of things,” he said angrily. “Potentially in chains.”

Suzenne bit her lip. “I am sorry, I did not mean to—”

“Of course not,” he interrupted. “Maybe I should leave the abbey before I am compelled to do so. This is not a home to me. It is a prison.” He raked his fingers through his tousled hair. “The moors oppress me, but perhaps I will grow to like them. In the past, when the king’s army was defeated at Winterrowd, soldiers skulked in the Bearden Muir for months. Perhaps I shall do that, if Jon Tayt will teach me. I can live off skunks and weeds.” He chuckled tonelessly.

Suzenne frowned, her forehead furrowing. “Do you really think the abbey’s sanctuary will be revoked? Surely the High Seer will do something.”

“What can she do?” Dodd said. “No offense, Maia, but your grandmother does not have an army at her command.”

“Armies are not the only way to change things,” Maia said softly.

“But they are the
one
sure way,” he answered stiffly. “Did not Winterrowd change the destiny of men and kings? The mastons did not just lie down and die that day . . . they rallied under Garen Demont, and not a single man who fought with them was killed. Would that I had been there.”

Maia could see the restlessness teeming inside of him. He was weary of biding his time, of waiting for outside events to dictate the course of his life. She could see the impetuousness of his character, his hunger for action.

Suzenne, on the other hand, looked increasingly worried by his rash words, his hunger to fight. As she walked alongside him, her fingers knotted together and he fidgeted.

Maia gave Dodd a probing look. “You have trained to be a soldier?” she asked.

“I have trained with the sword,” he answered, his tone ruffled. “My older brothers sparred with me.”

“But do you know anything of military tactics or of how to provision soldiers? Soldiers who do not eat do not fight.”

“Well, no, but I have read stories about armies in the tomes. I think if I left Muirwood and went to Forshee, many would rally to me as they did to Garen Demont.”

Maia shook her head. “But Garen Demont was a seasoned battle commander, was he not? He had fought with his father at Maseve. During his exile, he fought in foreign wars. People rallied to him because he knew what he was doing.”

“Are you calling me a fool then?” he challenged.

“Of course not, Dodd. I am seeing if you are speaking with your heart or with your head. Before you lead men to their deaths, you must first exhaust all other options. War should be a last resort.”

She could tell Dodd was not taking her words kindly, but she could not regret them. “So you are saying,” he said through clenched teeth, “that we must continue to submit to your father’s authority, even if he breaks all oaths and covenants?”

They were approaching the hunter’s lodging now. It was a comfortable little dwelling nestled in a grove of oak trees with a pen nearby to house horses. As they advanced, they could hear the sharp crack of an axe splitting wood. A paltry drizzle of smoke came from the chimney atop the thick thatched roof.

“You have no confidence in me,” Dodd said petulantly as they neared the dwelling.

Maia stopped and faced him. “Please do not say that,” she said, touching his arm. “I have sympathy for your situation, Dodd. Truly I do. Remember that I was there when your father spoke up to mine. Although what he said was true, your father may, even now, regret acting so rashly. If you are going to confront a king with his armies, his vast treasury, and his anointing, it should be done from a position of strength. Even Garen Demont was surprised by how quickly the king summoned an army to repel his invasion. There is wisdom in counseling with others who are on your side. Do not feel as if you have to act alone.”

Dodd just nodded, seemingly at a loss for words, and Maia led them around the side of the dwelling. They found Jon Tayt standing amidst a huge pile of split lumber, his face glistening with sweat. The axe swept down again, a powerful stroke that shattered the log and sent fragments clattering in all directions.

Argus was nestled by the hut, and when Maia and the others came into view, the boarhound leaped up and charged Maia with frantic wags of its tail. She dropped to her knees and embraced the dog, fending off its pink tongue as best she could.

“
Chut,
Argus!” Jon Tayt growled in jest. “She is
not
your master. I am!” He flicked his meaty wrist and effortlessly stuck the axe blade into the splitting stump. “By Cheshu, you are spoiling the dratted beast! Every time you leave, lass, I have to kick him repeatedly to earn his respect again and keep him from pining after you. Ungrateful cur.”

Maia went up and hugged the sweaty hunter, ignoring the reek. He had bits of bark in his beard and his retreating copper locks were damp with perspiration too. He mopped his forehead on a red scarf and stuffed it back into his belt.

“I got your message; now which of these two needs my advice?” he asked Maia, shoulder to shoulder with her and sizing up Dodd and Suzenne. “
Ach,
do not they look like a pair of forlorn lovebirds.
Druwy un glust ac druwy relall.
Advice most needed is the least heeded, as they say in Pry-Ree.”

Dodd and Suzenne both went scarlet with mortification.

“Never mind my jesting,” Jon Tayt said, breaking into a grin. “I know you did not come here for lessons in love. I, a sworn bachelor, would be poorly officed to help you with that. It was the lad you wanted me to speak with, Lady Maia?”

“Yes,” she said, scratching behind Argus’s ears as he sat dutifully next to her, panting.

“Well, we talk as we work,” Jon Tayt said. He plucked the axe from the stump and tossed it to Dodd, who caught it in surprise. Jon Tayt sniffed and walked over, pulling up another round of wood and dropping it on the stump. “Go ahead, lad. Break it up.”

Dodd stared at the hunter in amazement, hefting the axe awkwardly in his hands. “You want me to cut wood?”

“By Cheshu, do you have wax in your ears? There are chores to be done! Break it in half. Go, lad. The wood will not cut itself.” He dug his thumbs into his wide belt and watched as Dodd approached the round. Gripping the axe, the younger man moved around the stump and then stopped in front of it, standing with feet apace, and hefted the axe over his head.

“That is not the proper stance,” Jon Tayt said, waving at him. “You will knock yourself over. Feet apart this way, one in
front
of the other. You are going to use your legs, your hips, your shoulders,
and
your arms. Starts in your back foot over there.” He walked up to Dodd and adjusted his hips to show him how to grip the axe. Dodd looked uncomfortable, obviously unused to such work, as he corrected his stance.

“Now, you are going to try and aim the blade here,” Jon Tayt said, pointing to the base of the block. “You do not aim for the top of it. You want the blow to go all the way through it. Start the swing way back. Then up and over your head. Every muscle goes into it. Big wide swing. Give it a go, lad.”

Jon Tayt stepped back and gestured surreptitiously for Maia and Suzenne to step aside.

Dodd gripped the axe hard, his face pinched and serious, and swung back. The axe flew backward from his hands and clattered into the woodpile.

Jon Tayt wiped his face, grimacing. “You hold onto the
haft
, lad.”

“I know,” Dodd said heatedly, stalking over and fetching it. Even his ears were pink with shame. He came back, took the stance, and then brought the axe wheeling down. Maia startled, just slightly, as the blade clove the round in half with a crack like thunder.

“Good swing. Now fetch the pieces, one at a time.”

Dodd was frowning with impatience and frustration as he quickly planted one of the halves on the stump. He stepped back, checked himself, and split it with a powerful stroke, the pieces flying away like startled rabbits.

“Smaller,” Jon Tayt guided. Dodd complied and soon the round had been reduced to a small stack of kindling.

“And why are you two standing there?” Jon Tayt said to the girls. “Do you not see the wood littering the ground? You must not have failed to notice that stack over by the side of the lodge. Get to it!”

As they started to collect the fragments of wood, Maia saw the confusion and surprise on Suzenne’s face. She was delicate in lifting each piece and Maia could see she was very uncomfortable with doing physical work. Maia had long been a servant, and her wretched’s gown was loose about the arms and wrists, making it easy to maneuver. She was able to grab several fragments into a bundle and move the pieces much faster than Suzenne could.

A drop of rain splashed on Maia’s nose. She stared up at the darkening sky, and soon the rain began pelting them. It was not a gentle drizzle, but a rumbling downpour. The wind began to keen through the trees. Argus padded over to the grass and lay down, his fur soon soaked through.

“Did I tell you to stop cutting?” Jon Tayt said, annoyed. “It is only a little rain, and the work must be done. Another!”

Maia smiled at the determined look on Dodd’s face as he mopped the rain from his eyes and went back to the block. He started to work in earnest, bringing down the axe in powerful, confident strokes and splitting the logs into pieces that Maia and Suzenne then fetched and stacked.

“Our gowns are ruined,” Suzenne complained, staring at her sopping sleeves and bedraggled hair. Though Maia was equally soaked, the physical work made her feel alive. A part of her reveled in the dampness of her hair and freshness of the rain.

“It is only water,” Maia said, lifting her face to the sky and feeling the rain on her nose and cheeks.

Suzenne did not look convinced, but after a while she got into the rhythm of the work. Jon Tayt showed them how to stack the wood properly, of course, since he was an expert in all things. Despite being wet from nose to tail, Argus looked tranquil in their company, and his tail wagged contentedly. They had built up quite a pile of wood when Maia noticed Suzenne staring at Dodd. He had doffed his tunic and his padded shirt was soaked through, the sleeves bunched up at his elbows. His hair was sticking to his neck and he looked as if he were enjoying himself.