The Ciphers of Muirwood (14 page)

Maia’s heart burned at the unexpected, beautiful words, and she stared at her friend with mute amazement. The look of transformation on Dodd’s face was like the metamorphosis of a butterfly. He stared at her, eyes wide with shock. His mouth parted, too dumbstruck to speak.

Suzenne marched up and hit him in the chest with her fists. “Say something!” she begged him, her brow bending with worry.

Maia watched as Dodd seized her in his arms and crushed his mouth against hers. It was a hungry kiss, a greedy kiss, and Maia’s heart twisted with jealousy watching it, watching them cling to each other like two drowning souls—a release she herself could never have. She was so happy for them, she wept. But the tears hurt.

Dodd pulled back to stare into Suzenne’s face, using his thumbs to brush away her tears. “You truly mean it?” he gasped in disbelief.

“Yes, you fool!” Suzenne cried with bittersweet joy. “Now please tell me you still care for me as well. I am fit to burst . . . or . . . box your ears!”

“How can you not know?” Dodd said with a tortured sigh. “I have
always
loved you. My heart has
always
been faithful to you.”

“He says it
at last
,” Suzenne drawled, shaking her mane of golden hair and pulling him into a hug so tight it had to hurt.

Dodd pulled away, his look brooding and a little accusing. “What about your parents? Will you push me away again if they object?”

Suzenne shook her head vehemently, imploring him with her look. “Listening to them has been my utmost regret. I will defy them if I must, but perhaps seeing me suffer has made them soften. Let me prove my loyalty to you.”

“I forgive you. Let us never speak of it again.” Then, pulling her into his embrace, he nestled his cheek against her hair and they held each other, swaying. Maia stood quietly, transfixed by the achingly sweet moment.

“Do not leave,” Suzenne murmured. “It is death if you leave.”

“As you command me, my lady.” He stroked her hair. “I was going to summon the courage to murder a king. I am sorry, Maia. In my heart, I believe he deserves to be slain.”

“Not by your hand,” Maia replied softly.

Suzenne dipped her head against his chest. “Whitsunday,” she said.

“What?” Dodd asked.

“We will marry on Whitsunday.”

He pulled away, staring at her as if she had uttered the most sacred of words. “Your parents?”

She nodded. “That is when I will tell them. And nothing they say or do will alter my decision. If the king is displeased with me, then I will claim sanctuary here as well. Maia and I will pass the maston test together soon.” She reached up and touched his lips. “Whitsunday.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Chancellor Crabwell

I
t terrified Maia how quickly the season turned. One moment, the earth was hard and frozen and spikes of ice clung from the eaves of the abbey’s kitchen. The deepest part of winter was like a stifled breath, a gasp, and then—it was spring. Her father was coming. The Apse Veil was still closed, and the Aldermaston did not yet feel she was prepared for the maston rites. Every day she stalked the grounds, visiting the promontory and looking for signs of the
Holk’
s return. She missed her grandmother and worried for her safety.

The skeletal branches of the Cider Orchard were now white with blossoms, not snow. It was a beautiful sight, and she loved roaming the grounds with Suzenne and Dodd. Their relationship had deepened since the tragedy, but they always welcomed her to join them on their jaunts, including her warmly and openly. It was a little painful, watching them squeeze each other’s hands as they strolled the apple orchard. She imagined what it would be like to walk that way with Collier, to wander the grounds alongside him, holding his hand. Still, she was happy for them, happy for something so good to have come out of so much pain.

One spring day, they were out for one of their walks in the Cider Orchard. Maia was listening to the chirping larks and the drone of bees as she looked at the abbey. The scaffolding had all been removed, and only the interior work continued. The spires reached high enough to pierce the huge cotton clouds above it.

“I have given some thought to something,” Dodd said in a low voice.

“It is always dangerous when a man thinks too hard,” Suzenne replied, nudging him.

“I know—I start getting ideas and who knows where they will lead. If the king succeeds in revoking the sanctuary of Muirwood, this will be a haven no longer. I think we should flee to Pry-Ree, to Tintern. Jon Tayt has shown me several ways to escape the abbey grounds unnoticed—”

“I do not speak Pry-rian!” Suzenne interrupted, looking concerned at the thought of sneaking into the Bearden Muir.

“But Maia does. Surely your grandmother would grant us exile. I could get us there safely. Jon Tayt has taught me much about surviving in the woods and hiding our trail.”

Maia nodded and ducked beneath a low-hanging branch full of blossoms. “He has taught me as well. And I have no doubt we would find sanctuary in Pry-Ree if we sought it. But I hope my grandmother returns soon. I do not think she will surrender the authority of the abbey willingly.”

“Do you expect to see her?” Suzenne asked.

“I expect it every day, but she is delayed for some reason, and we have heard nothing still. There is much she must do, being the High Seer . . . especially now. But I cannot see this ending any other way than in a confrontation with my father, and I believe with all my heart she will return in time.”

“I hope it does not come to that,” Suzenne said worriedly. “Comoros has a nasty heritage of civil war. Why must we feud so?”

Dodd sniffed. “You know very well, my love. You cannot rule a kingdom through fear alone. When people stop being afraid, they become angry. I am grateful I did not pursue my revenge, but though patience is a virtue, it is not a satisfying one.”

“Is that so?” Suzenne said in a playful tone, swinging around and grabbing his hands, looking up at him. “Whitsunday will be here soon. Will not your patience be rewarded then?”

He smiled and leaned down, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I am wrong, as usual. It will be well worth the torture of delay. Do you fear the maston test? Either of you?” He glanced at Maia as well.

Suzenne shook her head. “My parents have always told me it is nothing to fear. There are Leerings that cause that emotion, but they can be silenced. Taking the maston test is more a test of commitment than anything else. I am quite ready to take the oaths.”

Dodd looked back at Maia.

“Compared with what I have seen and done in my life,” Maia said with pursed lips, “it holds no terror for me either. I have met with the Aldermaston these many months, and together, we have examined the life I once led.” Dodd had no idea that she had once worn a kystrel. He looked at her gravely, but there was sympathy in his gaze as well. “I am more than ready to commit myself to the Medium’s will,” she added. “I always have been.”

Dodd nodded in approval. “Some people think it is a surrender of a bitter kind. That it is restricting to constantly stifle your thoughts and bridle your passions. My father explained it to me differently, through a story about his ancestor Colvin Price, who had a great love of horses and a deep respect for the dangers of the Bearden Muir. When he and Lia were wandering the swamp together, the Cruciger orb led them to the safest paths. When they lost the power of the orb, they wandered aimlessly. Some people demand the freedom to stumble into ditches. I prefer following a guide to the safest road, even if it
is
through a swamp.”

Suzenne and Maia nodded in agreement. Their sojourn in the trees was interrupted when Owen hurried toward them. His cheeks were flushed, and it was clear he had been looking for them for some time.

“What news, Owen?” Maia asked.

The page bowed meekly. “The Aldermaston bids me tell you
that the lord chancellor just arrived. He is staying at the Pilgrim Inn
outside the grounds, but will dine with the Aldermaston tonight.”

“That
is
news,” Dodd said. “Chancellor Crabwell?”

“Aye,” said Owen. “I did not see him myself, but his retinue took control of the inn when they arrived, and many a man saw him enter.”

Suzenne looked to Maia in concern. “What could he be doing here? I would not have expected him to arrive for another month, or maybe a fortnight before Whitsunday. Do you know him, Maia?”

“Yes,” Maia said, her stomach churning with nervousness. “He would recognize me.”

“That is what the Aldermaston thinks as well,” Owen said. “He suggested you stay away from the manor. The sheriff of Mendenhall
has been snooping as well.”

Maia and Suzenne looked at each other. “Jon Tayt’s lodge?” they both said at once.

“A good plan,” Dodd said. “Stay away from the manor for now, even the kitchen. I will warn Jon Tayt you are coming to the lodge. If you cannot go there safely, I will come warn you.” He squeezed Suzenne’s hand and then departed the Cider Orchard.

Owen bowed his hat to them and left as well.

“How well do you know Chancellor Crabwell?” Suzenne asked, linking arms with Maia as they started to walk toward the hunter’s lodge on the outskirts of the abbey.

“He replaced Tomas Morton as chancellor before the man was executed. He is loyal to my father. He may be here to see what sort of resistance the king can expect from the Aldermaston.”

Suzenne shuddered. “Do you think your father would murder an Aldermaston?”

It was so painful to consider the man her father had become. His ruthlessness as a king was apparent and reviled. And what he had done to her and her mother was deplorable. She still had memories, though, memories of the time before the stillbirths, when they were a real family. A slender part of her hoped against hope that he would remember himself, that he would forsake the monster he had become.

“I hope not,” she murmured softly, unable to see the beauty of the blossoms any longer.

Jon Tayt’s lodge was not the proper lodging for a princess or her companion. There were axes and long knives set in racks on the wall. There were torches, coils of rope, snow shoes, blankets, kegs, longbows, arrows in abundance, at least four pairs of rugged boots, pots of all sizes, wooden spoons and ladles, and an assortment of forks, paring knives, and animal skins. There were no chairs to sit on, but enough barrels of varying sizes to be used as substitute seating. There was a hearth, naturally, which was well stocked with wood that Dodd had helped split and stack during the winter, and Jon Tayt had arranged the stones to encourage the fire to provide more heat than was necessary, making the lodge quite stifling.

They ate meat from small pans, enjoying the sumptuous fare. Jon Tayt rattled on incessantly about the virtues of ovens versus stoves, and the heat and food and constant talking combined to make Maia a little drowsy.

Argus’s ears shot up and a low snuffling growl issued from his mouth. Someone was there. Maia felt the chill of fear grip her heart.

“Chut,”
Jon Tayt warned, rising from the bearskin mat and setting down his tray. He reached the front door just as a timid knock sounded. It was Owen again.

“The Aldermaston has called for Suzenne,” Owen said nervously,
wringing his hands. “The chancellor wishes to speak with her.”

Suzenne’s face went ashen. “Me?”

Owen nodded dumbly. “He said he must see ‘one Suzenne Clarencieux.’ Those were his exact words, my lady. The Aldermaston
sent me to fetch you.”

Jon Tayt scowled. “I like that not. By Cheshu, what is he after? Does he know your Family, lass?”

Suzenne blanched. “I would think not. We are a noble Family, but not one of great importance.”

“He’s sniffing like a dog, looking for a scent. Owen, take her to the Aldermaston. Maia, you stay here with me.”

Brushing off her hands, Suzenne rose and looked very nervous as she headed into the dark with Owen.

“What is your guess?” Maia asked Jon Tayt as he shut the door behind them. “I can tell you are thinking.”

Jon Tayt rose and did not answer. He began stuffing supplies into a rucksack. After a moment, he looked at her pointedly. “Yours is over there, lass. Fill it!”

“Am I not safe on these grounds?” she asked.

“Are you a maston yet?” he snapped. “Until you are, you have no protection, and cannot call for sanctuary even under the old law. Quickly. I sense an ill wind blowing.”

Maia nodded and rushed over to the rucksack, which she began stuffing with food, a water flask, and a blanket.

The door opened without a knock and Argus started to bark fiercely. The sheriff of Mendenhall entered. Argus nearly leaped at him, but Jon Tayt whistled, and the dog stepped back, scaling back his barks to a low-pitched whine that showed he was sensitive to the tension in the room.

The sheriff’s eyes were gray. She had never noticed that before, but now that he was staring at her so pointedly, she could notice little but their cold, cunning color. He wore his noble’s clothes, a fine leather tunic, and the collar of knighthood visible around his neck. His sword pommel showed the maston symbol, but that could mean any number of things. His eyes were calculating, and he stared at her deliberately.

“Thank you for quieting the dog,” the sheriff said, releasing his grip on his dagger hilt. “I am grateful I did not have to.”

“Never threaten a man’s hound,” Jon Tayt warned. He had an axe haft in his hand, poised to throw. His eyes were deadly earnest.

“I seek no quarrel with you, hunter,” the sheriff said.

“You may have found it regardless,” Jon Tayt replied. “How many men do you have outside?”

“Enough,” the sheriff answered.

Jon Tayt’s eyes burned with fury. “You think so?” His voice was full of challenge.

“Let us go outside and you can count. How high
can
you count?” The last was added as a deliberate insult.

“What do you want?” Maia asked, stepping forward. A part of her—a dark part of her—wished she still had her kystrel. She felt the need slipping in through the door cracked open by her fear and wariness. This was what the Aldermaston had warned her against. Temptation. She licked her lips, trying unsuccessfully to quell her fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the future, it did not matter—fear was the reason many turned to the powers of the Myriad Ones. She did not feel them nearby. That was impossible on the abbey grounds. But she could practically feel them scratching at the invisible walls that kept them out.

“You,” he replied simply.

“I do not understand you, Sheriff. What do you mean?”

“I came for you, my dear,” he said, a long, nervous smile playing across his mouth. “I have a theory, you see, and I summoned Chancellor Crabwell to Muirwood to help me test it. He left Comoros in secret two days ago and told no one where he was going. He was most interested in my news.”