The Ciphers of Muirwood (25 page)

Sabine approached and Maia saw that she was holding the Cruciger orb in her hand. Even from a distance, she could see the writing scrolling across the orb. She burned with curiosity to know what it said.

“Nonsense, indeed?” Sabine replied, her brow wrinkling with amusement. “If you knew what I knew, you would not think that.”

Collier looked uncomfortable. “I am sure you are privy to many of the Medium’s secrets,” he said guardedly. “I am not a maston myself.”

“You must become one,” Sabine said seriously.

Collier shook his head and chuckled. “I must do as I
choose
,” he replied, his voice hinting at displeasure.

“I know,” Sabine replied. She was standing very near him now. Her eyes were burning with a loving intensity. “And the Medium sent me here to persuade you to make the right choice.”

He cocked his eyebrow. “Did it now? Is this a warning? Have you come to threaten me, as your great-grandmother, Lia, once did my ancestor?”

Sabine was unflappable. She shook her head slowly. “No. Just to tell you a story. Lia had the Gift of Seering. She saw the future. She saw what would result from the Earl of Dieyre’s decisions. I know about your ambitions, Gideon. I know you desire to fulfill your ancestor’s destiny. But what did it gain him? He ruled an empire of bones and dust.” Her eyes narrowed. “I have seen it, Gideon. My Gift of Seering allows me to see the past. The future is a fog that I cannot pierce, and I have no more idea what will happen tomorrow than you do. But I have seen your ancestor. Dieyre walked in misery, alone at the end of his days. When he first met the Naestors, his eyes flooded with hunger; he was desperate to speak to another soul, even though they could not understand one another. If he had
believed
in Lia’s warning before it was too late, he would have chosen to exile himself with the mastons. He would have had a very different end.”

Collier stared at her with distrust. But he did not speak.

Sabine held up the Cruciger orb. “Do you know what this is?”

“I do,” he replied. “They are very rare. The Dochte Mandar have some in their
collection
, though they cannot work them.”

“Quite right. This orb was given to me. Lia was my great-grandmother, and she passed on the Cruciger orb to her daughters, who were chosen to be Aldermastons and High Seers. The orb’s purpose is to help the one who wields it find the true path. To find what has been lost. I have never regretted my Gift of Seering, even though I cannot see the future. Indeed, I have found it more useful to see and learn from the patterns of the past. There have always been corrupt kings. There have always been those who would persecute the mastons. Let me tell you of one.”

Collier breathed out through his nose impatiently, as if he were about to receive a lecture, but he did not leave. He stood silently, gravely, his eyes determined not to believe.

Sabine lifted the orb higher. “During the time of Lia’s life, there was a corrupt king ruling Comoros. His wife died, and he later married a daughter of Dahomey, Pareigis. Under her influence, he taught his followers, those most loyal to him, to murder the mastons. Many died, their innocent blood shed. Eventually, a maston rose against him—the son of an earl who was slain. Garen Demont. My ancestor.”

Collier nodded, familiar with the story. “Yes, the king was himself slain at the field of Winterrowd. I do not use the word
murdered
, as some do, because I was taught it was the Medium’s will that he died. How convenient.”

Sabine smiled at him, her eyes narrowing. “The story I must tell you is about that king’s father.”

Collier frowned.

“Not many know of him. He is a forgotten king, in many ways. His name was Jonas. When his kingdom was invaded by Dahomey, he turned to the High Seer of Avinion for support. He bargained and pleaded for assistance. But because he had betrayed so many, he found few allies, even when he offered gold. King Jonas trusted no one, so always traveled with his treasure. He feared that his own servants would plunder it in his absence. Fatefully, he fled to an abbey, seeking shelter, with the Dahomeyjan army coming from the south and the Pry-rian army coming from the north. While traveling to the abbey, he crossed a swampy fenland and realized that his wagons of treasure would have difficulty crossing, so he sent them another way. It started to rain, and the fenlands flooded. His wagons of treasure were stuck. Before his eyes, he watched them sink into the mire. Because Jonas was pressed upon by the advancing armies, he did not have the men or troops to return for his treasure, and he died shortly thereafter, leaving the kingdom to his young son. The treasure vanished from the earth, taken by the Medium’s will. It has been lost these many years to serve the Medium’s purpose.”

Collier’s eyes reflected his confusion. What was the purpose of this tale?

“Gideon,” Sabine said, holding forth the orb regally. “When Maia and I came to Muirwood, I knew that you were being held hostage by the Naestors. A king’s ransom was the cost. Maia was sick with worry about yo
u. So was I, for you are part of
my
Family now. I sought the Medium’s will, trying to seek a way to save you from bondage.” Her voice thickened with emotion. “I had a dream . . . a vision . . . and I saw King Jonas’s wagons sinking into the bog. I had a clear visi
on of where this happened.” She stepped forward. “So I asked the Aldermaston of Muirwood to lend me workers. I used my ship, the
Holk
, to take us where the Cruciger orb led. We were successful, Gideon. We unearthed the treasure of King Jonas.”

Maia stared at her grandmother, her heart nearly bursting with gratitude. Her grandmother had used her resources and Gift to save Collier from the dungeon. And she had done it in secret. Tears stung Maia’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks. The feeling of gratitude was so immense she could hardly breathe.

“And with his fortune and other treasure gathered from abbeys across the kingdoms, I secured your release from the Naestors. So you see, my grandson . . . your treasury has not been touched. You are not bereft of funds or means, as you have believed.” She swallowed and reached her hand out to clasp his kindly, lowering the Cruciger orb as she did so. “What are gold and silver but heavy burdens? What are jewels but pieces of rock? They will not bring happiness to you or anyone. They never have. I sought you to tell you this truth when you were released. I was waiting for you in Dahomey with your steward to explain, but you came to Comoros directly. The Cruciger orb led me here to find you. You have no debt. You have no obligation to any man or even to me. I do this freely, of my own will, because you are my granddaughter’s husband. You are
my
Family! We must stand together in this, Gideon. You must stand with us. I cannot force you to become a maston. I can only ask you to choose it freely. Whether you do or not, you are still a free man. I have bought your freedom. Can you see that I could not have done this without the Medium? Gideon, you
know
the Medium is real. Feel the gentle whispers of your honored parents. The mastons need you to stand with us at this crossroads. We must stand up to a king.”

Another knock sounded on the door, and the Aldermaston’s steward, Tomas, hurried inside. He blocked the door with his body, holding it shut. His face was drawn with concern. “High Seer, he has just arrived. Aldermaston Kranmir. The Aldermaston is showing him the manor first, then the grounds of Muirwood. They will arrive here shortly.”

Sabine turned, her posture rigid with resolve. “Show them in.”

In the tome called the
Hodoeporicon
, there is a great proverb on anger that has always impressed me. In a controversy, the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for truth, and have begun striving for ourselves.

—Richard Syon, Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Apples

T
he Aldermaston of Augustin Abbey wore the pale gray cassock of the order, but he also had on a fur-lined stole that was all black and a strange-looking three-pointed velvet cap, also black, that looked almost like a mushroom top. He had a solemn face, clean shaven, with a long thick nose and brooding eyes, his expression stern and unimpressed. As he entered the chamber and caught sight of the High Seer, those dark eyes flashed with suppressed anger, but his expression did not change. Richard Syon, the Aldermaston of Muirwood, walked alongside him.

“Sabine,” said Kranmir with a flat voice. “I did not know you would be here.”

Maia bristled at his informal use of her grandmother’s name. He was a master of controlling his expressions, but that look in his eyes sent a shiver through her. Her emotions were still reeling from learning about the treasure and Collier’s freedom from debt. She glanced at her husband and could tell he was struggling to control his emotions—his jaw was tense, his eyes were narrowed on Kranmir.

“Hello, Ely,” her grandmother replied, nodding respectfully. “You just arrived?”

“It would have been sooner, but the condition of the roads into Muirwood is absolutely deplorable. That is the first of many remedies I will mention to the king. It should be a priority.” He cocked his head slightly. “I am altogether astonished to find you here, Sabine. How did you arrive ahead of me? What port did you use? Bridgestow?”

He was deftly trying to ply her for information, and Maia cast a warning look at her grandmother.

“Thank you for your concern. I understand from my travels that the king is appointing you as the Aldermaston of Muirwood. Is that so?” She gave him a hard look, her eyes piercing.

Kranmir suppressed a small smile, almost as if it were a little joke. “Matters such as these are always inflated around a mere kernel of truth.”

“How would
you
then convey the truth?” Sabine countered. “There can be no doubt as to how this appears on the surface.”

He raised a placating hand. “Sabine, I attempted to explain this all rather concisely in a missive I sent you. By your question, I infer that you have not received it. My servants tell me that you are seldom in one place for very long. I had believed you were still in Naess, so my message may be lingering there unopened.”

There was a tone of rebuke in his voice and Maia felt her blood simmering with heat. His fancy words and haughty demeanor rankled her. Aldermaston Syon was stoic, his expression grave but not confrontational, even though it was his domain and position that were in jeopardy. His eyes were fixed on the High Seer, his support for her conveyed in his stare.

“Please summarize the contents of your message,” Sabine told him patiently. “I truly wish to understand your position.”

Kranmir clasped his doughy hands in front of him after smoothing the sable fur of his stole. “In my letter, I recommended that a new policy be employed throughout the various kingdoms. You bear a heavy administrative burden, my dear, one that frankly overtaxes your capabilities. I am aware of
several
Aldermastons who have expressed a measure of discontent in waiting to hear back from you regarding matters of the utmost importance. My suggestion is that each kingdom be given the administrative duties that you bear, which will then be settled upon a chief precinct. Matters will be treated locally first, thus diminishing the burden that you are clearly struggling to heft. My recommendation is to begin this at Muirwood Abbey in Comoros, as the chief abbey of the realm. All the revenues from the other abbeys will be sent to Muirwood
before being passed on to you, of course
,” he concluded with pronounced enunciation. “This, you must agree, will help centralize the administrative burdens and provide more timely responses to the Aldermastons who cannot hear from you as often as they would like.” He smiled when he finished, nodding to her.

Sabine paced for a few moments, letting his words sink in. “Am I correct in assuming, Ely, that in your letter you also requested the privilege of becoming the Aldermaston of Muirwood to help carry this burden?”

Another flicker of a smile crossed Kranmir’s mouth. “Of course not, Sabine. I would never take it upon myself to do such a thing.” His voice became more sinuous. “But truly, when have you
not
requested input from us as to new positions to be filled? When have you
not
acceded to those suggestions as the Medium has moved you to do?” His eyes were like flint.

Sabine feigned confusion. “So you are not to become the Aldermaston of Muirwood?”

“That is not what I
said
,” Kranmir replied, holding up a single finger. “I would never take it upon
myself
. The king has seen fit to endorse my suggestion to you and seeks to implement it immediately through an act of the realm. The language of the act is quite clear that the revenues will be centralized through Muirwood to be dispensed as the Aldermaston sees fit to benefit this realm
and others
. He has chosen me to represent this new ideal in Comoros. I am certain you will see the wisdom of his recommendation in time.”

Sabine’s eyes narrowed. “You may be sure I will discuss it with the king in great detail.” Then her expression softened and her voice was pained. “Oh, Ely. Not you. How I wish you could see that gold is a poor substitute for integrity.”

Kranmir’s eyes flashed with sudden fury and his lips straightened into a firm line. He said nothing, but he could not mask the hatred in his eyes. “Is there anything I can provide to make your stay more comfortable?” he asked crisply.

Sabine shook her head. “Richard has been an able host. Thank you, Ely. That is all. I am sorry I could not respond to your messages more promptly. I can see how deeply it has hurt you. Forgive me.”

His expression smoothed, but Maia could see he was not mollified. “It is a small matter, Sabine. I am not quick to be offended.”

“I know,” she replied softly, seeing the truth hidden in his words. “I see the wound has actually been long in festering. Your predecessor . . . suffered from it as well.” She gave him a knowing look, which caused a little smudge of pink on his cheeks. Nodding to her reverentially, he turned to leave.

Richard Syon stood still, watching Sabine for instructions. She motioned for him to depart and nodded subtly, implying he should carry on the tour. He bowed gravely and followed Kranmir out of the room. The steward delicately shut the door, leaving the three mismatched Family members alone.

Sabine sighed regretfully, clasping her hands behind her back.

Maia rushed to her side, wanting to comfort her, but feeling heartbroken at the same time. “He is no Aldermaston,” she said.

Sabine shook her head, frowning. “He
is
still. I will need to replace him in Augustin.” Her frown deepened. “That will cause a
rift, to be sure. He has already rebelled. Perhaps a schism is unavoid
able. I hope not.”

Collier chuckled softly. “He deceives so gracefully,” he said with contempt. “What a gifted liar. I almost envy him that ability, except it made me want to smack him.” He chuffed to himself and shook his head. “And you named him to his position, High Seer? Was the Medium
wrong
to do so?” His eyebrows lifted archly, almost in challenge, but it was clear he truly wanted to understand her side.

Sabine met his gaze without anger. “There is a common misperception, Gideon. If the Medium knows what will come to pass, why does it choose people who will fail? It has been my experience that most of humanity is governed by greed, grief, or glory. The most difficult passion to subdue is pride. Surely you know
that
. What happens if a rotten apple is placed in a barrel?”

Collier looked at her curiously. “A spoilt apple ruins the barrel. Is that not the proverb?”

“Indeed. Before it is spoilt, it can be turned into treats, crushed into cider. But when it is diseased, the taint quickly spreads to the other fruit. If you dump out all the apples, my lord, and put in fresh ones, the taint will affect the new batch.” Her eyes narrowed. “There is something about the impurity that cannot be seen with mortal eyes. It requires scrubbing and patience to clean the barrel from within.
That
is how the taint is stopped. But at the time of the choosing, it is not spoiled
yet
.”

Collier stared at her, his expression grave. “So you must purge the barrel, High Seer?”

She pursed her lips. “If I do not, the entire barrel will be lost.”

He tapped his chin. “How do you purge a barrel that is guarded by a king?”

Sabine smiled, her expression deep and poignant. “You persuade the
king
of the danger.”

And Maia realized, in that moment, that her example was meant for Collier, not Kranmir.

Maia and Collier walked together, side by side, through the Cider Orchard. She used to think of him while wandering there with Suzenne and Dodd. Being with him alone was a strange and thrill
ing contrast. The limbs were weighed down by heavy clumps of fruit,
the skins a pinkish red. Some were glossy and smooth, others blotchy
and darker than others. Each tree showed a variety of colors—pale
gray bark, vibrant green leaves, and fruit that varied in shade between
yellow, pink, and red. Some of the trees had already begun to drop the fruit, and they found, scattered randomly, fallen apples.

Collier crouched to pick one up and cleaned it on his tunic.

“We grow grapes in Dahomey,” he said, examining the fruit critically. “I suppose I will have to get used to the taste of these.” He bit into it and made a face. “Rather tart,” he said, crunching it.

Maia looked for one that had blotches on it. “I have heard these are the sweetest,” she said, plucking one from its stem. The release caused the branch to tremble, and suddenly other apples started plopping down onto the grass. Collier held up his hand to deflect the hail of falling fruit and gave an exaggerated wince, making Maia laugh.

She studied the fruit in her hand, brought it to her nose to smell it, and then sank her teeth into the skin. It was delicious and made her mouth water for more. She had always heard of Muirwood apples, and now that she lived at the abbey, she could not get enough of them. Collier sat down and leaned back against the tree after giving a wary look to the branches.

“I am fearful now,” he said. “What if one falls right on my head?”

“Perhaps it would improve your good sense?” she replied archly, raising her eyebrows and making him smile. She knelt down on the grass next to him, smoothing out her skirts so she could sit.

“Apples and barrels and blight,” he said after taking another bite.
“Sounds like a song that children would sing.” He sighed deeply, his
expression growing darker as his eyes scanned the orchard.

Maia picked at the grass around her quietly, feeling the warmth of the breeze across her neck. She watched his mood become more somber, and she longed to know what he was thinking. “When you asked me to dance . . . was it . . .
only
to get revenge against Lady Deorwynn and Murer?”

His frown was replaced by a sly smile. “I will admit that I had many compelling motives,” he answered. “And I do not regret tweaking their noses. They have treated you unpardonably.”

Maia felt a flush of heat at his words. “What have you decided about me, Collier?” She risked a look directly into his eyes, though her fingers still plucked the grass.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Do you think . . . I am pretending to be who I am? I cannot say the word because of the binding sigil, but do you believe I am . . .
that
other person . . . still?”

The look he gave her was thoughtful. He shook his head no, and she felt a spasm of relief. “It would almost be easier for me if it were true,” he said ruefully. “I may not be as discerning as your grandmother . . . or perhaps I am
more,
depending on how you look at her choice of Ely Kranmir as Aldermaston. Truly, a duplicitous man . . . and no friend of yours, Maia, I can tell you that. When I was visiting your father’s court, I had my eye on him as someone not trustworthy. I thought he was just a vain relation of Lady Deorwynn, but I believe he would turn on even her if it benefited his ambitions. He and I are too much alike, I think. Does that not concern you?”