by Jeff Wheeler
Garen Demont was younger than the Aldermaston, but he was much older than Lia. He was not excessively tall, but he was fit and trim for a man nearly fifty. He had survived the battle of Maseve as a young man, escaped the kingdom and fought for foreign kings in turn. But he had returned at last to challenge the king for his family’s birthright and defeated him at the battle of Winterrowd. Lia had been there and recalled seeing him there, perched on a wagon the evening of the battle, all blood-spattered and filthy as he announced their victory in a humble manner. She had not seen him since then until he had arrived at Muirwood to defeat their enemies. His knights had traveled through the Apse Veil, the barrier within each Abbey that allowed someone to pass from one location to another.
His hair was dark and unruly. A maston sword hung from a scuffed leather belt at his hip. He did not have a beard, though the bristles had reformed already and he looked ready for a shave again. He looked at her curiously and bowed his head towards her.
“We have, Aldermaston. Briefly.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “I hope you are recovering from your injuries?”
Her heart burned inside of her. He was the only family she had left. He was her uncle, in blood, and he did not know it. She started to tremble.
“What is it you wanted to tell me?” the Aldermaston asked pointedly.
She glanced at him, seeing his eyebrows fold with intensity. He sat back in his chair, wincing with pain as he moved.
“You wish me to speak it now?” she asked, nodding towards Demont.
He gave her a shrewd smile. “Please do.”
Her heart throbbed in her chest. What would Demont think of her? How would he react to her news? As she began to speak, her mouth would not open. The force of the Medium slammed into her, cleaving her tongue. She could say nothing. Even breathing was difficult. Her mind whirled.
“Lia?” the Aldermaston asked mildly, but she could see knowledge in his eyes. He knew exactly what was happening to her. Was he doing it to her? Or was the Medium preventing her because it did not want Demont knowing?
She shook her head violently, feeling tears prick her eyes. The thought of something else to say loosed her tongue. “Do you have…any word from Colvin?”
“No,” the earl said, startling her. “Not directly. But we do have word of him and of my niece.” He looked at the Aldermaston, who nodded curtly. “The king of Dahomey sends us word demanding the release of his sister, Pareigis, into his custody. He has informed us that he will keep my niece and the Earl of Forshee as hostages at Dochte Abbey until we relent.” His face hardened with anger. “Our attempts to…contact…the earl have all been thwarted. If the news you brought from Pry-Ree is true, my dear, that the Blight is coming and it will strike soon, then we must make a decision now on how to save them.”
“I agree that we must do something,” the Aldermaston said, then paused as a racking cough exploded from his lips. It took several moments to regain his composure. He slammed his elbow on the table and leaned forward, expelling his breath roughly. “But releasing the Queen Dowager will do more harm than good. It is a ploy. If what your allies in Hautland have said is true, there is an invasion army assembling. The negotiations are an attempt to distract us from their true aim. We must send word through every village in the kingdom. We must forsake these shores before it is too late.”
Demont’s brow furrowed with consternation. “Is there nothing then that can halt the Blight?”
The reply came as a deep chuckle, wet with phlegm. “Certainly there is. We must abandon all pride. Share our food with the poor. We must act, in a word, with one heart and one mind. But as you well know that has not happened since the days of King Zedakah. Too many mastons have been killed. Too many Abbeys have fallen. How does one stop a rockslide, my lord Earl? We must flee from it before it engulfs us. Lia can guide us to the safe haven in Pry-Ree. There is an Abbey there. They know the way.”
“Yet you will not tell me where it is,” Demont stated simply, his look piercing.
“Not yet, my lord Earl. Continue to send your knights throughout the realm. Those who will listen must come to Muirwood. If our enemies learned where the rallying point was, our escape would be compromised. Bring them to Muirwood.”
“What of my niece?” Demont asked, stepping closer, his voice more firm.
Lia’s heart throbbed painfully.
“Lord Colvin is an able maston. He is her guardian.”
Demont said nothing for a moment. He rubbed his jaw, causing a scratching sound from the bristles on his chin. “Until tomorrow then, Aldermaston. I beg leave of you. It is time to rotate the guard over Pareigis. Even without the kystrel she is dangerous.”
The Aldermaston nodded. “You are wise not to underestimate her. Until tomorrow.”
Demont strode from the room and shut the door softly behind him. Lia watched him go, her stomach sick with worry. She turned back to the Aldermaston.
“Send me to Dochte Abbey,” she said in a low voice.
“You are not fully recovered, Lia. It is a long journey.”
She frowned deeply and approached his desk. “I will use the Apse Veil. I can be there tonight and warn him. The orb would show me the way.”
The Aldermaston studied her carefully, his expression guarded. “None of Demont’s mastons have successfully crossed the Apse Veil to Dochte Abbey. If it were a matter of strength in the Medium, I would suggest you try yourself. But my heart tells me that Dochte has already fallen.”
“What?” Lia demanded, planting her palms on the desk. “It is the oldest Abbey in Dahomey. If it has fallen, why have we not heard?”
He twisted the tips of his beard. “I have asked myself that question. If the Abbey were burned, we would have heard. But if it were corrupted from within?” He raised his eyebrow at her. “If the Aldermaston succumbed? Dahomey is an ancient kingdom. If Pareigis is a hetaera, then we must assume her family is as well and that the king of Dahomey has been seduced as well as the royal family. Their show of ability with the Medium is done by kystrels. The missives that I have received may have been sent deliberately to put my mind at ease – to assure me that they have not fallen when they already have. Perhaps I have been ignoring the signs all along.” His words sent a chill through her body and she shivered. “Perhaps we are the last kingdom to fall.”
“The last?” she whispered.
“I fear it may be,” he replied softly.
She swallowed, bewildered. Then she looked at him pointedly. “Why did you not tell me?”
“Tell you what, Lia?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
She was about to say Ellowyn Demont, but her jaw froze and her tongue clove in her mouth again. She struggled against the surge of the Medium. But moving her mouth was like trying to lift a boulder with a spoon. She grit her teeth in frustration, unable to say the words.
The Aldermaston leaned back in his chair, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. “Now do you understand?” he whispered. “I cannot speak of what we both know to be true. Neither can you.”
Lia surrendered against the feeling. “But you are an Aldermaston,” she said. “Why will the Medium bind us in such a way? It is not…natural.”
“Is it any less natural than how Colvin used the Medium to bind Seth’s tongue? The curse was removed eventually, but he went without speaking for a year. Imagine what Martin and I endured these many long years. Seth should be grateful that an irrevocare sigil was not used with the binding or he would never have spoken again, in this life or the next.” His eyes were serious.
Lia wanted to ask who had performed the binding sigil, but again she was prevented. Angrily, she thought of another question. “How is a binding performed?”
The Aldermaston smirked at her persistence. “A binding sigil, or a binding rune, can be engraved in a tome. A band of aurichalcum is then forged that seals the pages together. The band cannot be opened except by the password. What is written on those pages cannot be spoken. They cannot be uttered by anyone. When s
omeone has the gift of Seering, they employ the binding runes on their tomes, to prevent others from learning the future. Some with the gift write their visions in language that is difficult to understand or can be interpreted in more than one way. That protects the knowledge from those who cannot use the Medium. But when the words are plain and easy to understand, they can be sealed with a binding rune to protect them.”
Lia studied him carefully. “Do you know how to do this yourself or were you taught?”
He smiled, as if he were proud of her question. He looked at her deliberately. “I was taught by the Prince of Pry-Ree. Most of what I know of the hidden power of the Medium was taught to me by him. He had a unique way of carving Leerings, for example. He was younger than I but more powerful in the Medium in every way.” He paused. “His visit to Muirwood changed my life. Prior to his visit, I was a trifle more concerned with the harvesting of apples and the making of spiced cider.”
Lia’s heart surged with emotions and she felt the tears stinging her eyes. More than anything she wanted to ask about her father, but she could not ask it openly. The Medium forbade it. She hung her head, recognizing the truth. The Aldermaston had never intended to hide from her what he knew. For some reason, her father had felt the secrecy so important that he had prevented the knowledge being shared.
“Why?” she said, struggling to find her voice through the tears. “Why must it be secret? Martin knew?” Her heart ached to tell Colvin but she realized with despair that even if he stood before her, she would not be able to tell him.
The Aldermaston’s look was full of sympathy. He nodded curtly. “Martin struggled with it. He always did. He looked for ways to circumvent the binding rune. He is defiant by nature. When you…” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “…were abandoned at the Abbey, as a wretched, I was expecting there to be a tome with you. Instead there was the orb. No one ever learned what happened to the Prince’s tome. It is still missing. I can use the orb, but I cannot leave the grounds. My office requires me to be here, at Muirwood. I think…the Prince…protected this information in such a way to prevent it from being told to the wrong person. Or people. You see, even if I wanted to tell the truth, I could not.” His eyes gave her a meaningful look that said much she did not understand. He knew, she realized, even more than he had said, more secrets that he was powerless to reveal.
Lia sighed, feeling exhausted suddenly. “Then what must I do? What does the Medium expect from me?”
His look was full of sorrow. “You already know, Lia.” His voice was soft and firm. “Ellowyn Demont must go to Dochte Abbey to warn them. Get some sleep, child. You must rest and heal. The Abbey will continue to heal you. You have made good progress each day. But still, there is little time left to us.”
She nodded and went to the door. Pausing at the threshold, she studied his face and he studied hers. There was no anger or resentment within her any longer, only determination to find a way to tell Colvin who she really was. She sighed, realizing how thick-headed he could be. But she would try. She had to try.
After shutting the door gently, she walked down the hall and joined the cool night air. Her leg throbbed from the punishing pace she had allowed herself that day. Her temples clanged like kettles. She was so distracted she did not see the shadow of the man until it mixed with hers. Whirling, she caught sight of a man detaching himself from the darkness to approach her. His hand rested on a gladius blade.
“You are the Pry-rian lass?” he asked softly in the language of her deceased father, her heritage, her homeland.
She had seen him before and recognized the face from Tintern Abbey.
* * *
“I failed at the Leerings again today. There is one that frightens me more than the others. Let me describe it. The image is of two serpents woven together, their heads facing each other. It forms a circle. Most of the Leerings I see are shaped like faces, but this one is different. It is small. I see this symbol everywhere in Dochte. The Aldermaston says it is an ancient rune, that the serpent is one of the manifestations of Idumea. There are seven manifestations of Idumea. Dahomey embraces the manifestation of the serpent. I believe him, but it makes me afraid. There are serpents engraved everywhere. People keep serpents as pets here. There are no rats or voles. I will try again tomorrow to speak to the Leerings. There is one that will stop the Blight. Colvin said I must hurry. There are things he will not tell me. If Lia were here, he would tell her.”
- Ellowyn Demont of Dochte Abbey
* * *
CHAPTER THREE:
Kieran Ven
Lia understood the language of the Pry-rians. It startled her to hear it on the Abbey grounds and startled her even more that she recognized the man. The last time she had seen him, he was picking fruit from a small enclosed garden behind Tintern Abbey where Colvin hid. Her hand dropped to her gladius hilt.
He smirked. “You were brave enough to pass the mountains of the Fear Liath,” he said. “No doubt you are equally brave enough to face me with a blade. But given your limp, I would suggest against it.”
Lia tried to calm her heart, to let him sense her confidence instead of shock. “How did you get here?” she demanded of him. “The waters have not subsided. The land is flooded for leagues around the Abbey.” He was not wet.
“I do not wish to be seen,” he replied, not answering her question. “Follow me.” With that, he stepped back into the shadows and started towards the rear of the kitchen. It was dangerous, she realized. What was he doing there? Why had he come? She stood rooted in place, fingering her weapon, wondering whether to return and warn the Aldermaston or find Seth to accompany her.
His voice drifted from the dark. “It is a beautiful moonlit night. And mild enough that others will be wandering the grounds, so if I am to remain unseen, as is my desire, I must withdraw to where fire cannot reveal me.”
Lia was intrigued by his choice of words. They were almost musical the way they came out of his mouth. There was a different manner of speaking in Pry-Ree, a different way of expressing ideas. Rather than being alarmed, it calmed her. Cautiously, she ventured into the shadows and followed him to the copse of oak trees at the fringe where she had observed Colvin at his swordplay more than once. She was tensed, ready to cry out if surprised by anyone else.
“Explain yourself,” Lia said, listening keenly for the sounds of others. She remembered how Colvin and Ellowyn had been lulled into a trap by Martin. She glanced around and searched the darkness for any sign of others.
“I am alone,” he said.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Kieran Evnissyen, though I am called Kieran Ven which means ‘night’ in the tongue of this land. I do most of my work after sundown. I am part of the Evnissyen. As are you.”
Lia walked in a half-circle around him, forcing him to turn to keep her in view. “What is that name? Is it a Family name?”
“It was, long ago. But those abandoned by their parents use it now. We are the protectors of the royal family. Advisors to the nobles of Pry-Ree.”
“Their abductors as well, it would seem,” Lia said. “This is not your first journey to this land.”
“I confess it. I know that our Aldermaston sent Ellowyn to Dochte Abbey. It was clearly the Medium’s will. We did not oppose it. Now it bids us rescue her from that den of snakes…and hetaera.”
Lia gasped as he said the word.
“I know you are a maston,” he said with a nod of approval. “As am I. Unusual for Evnissyen, but not unheard of. Which brings me to the answer you were seeking at the first. I arrived at nightfall, crossing the Apse Veil from Tintern. The way to Dochte was sealed. I could not pass. So I was sent here. My mission is to join Martin in Dahomey. I was told you would come with me willingly.” He cocked his head. “Or should I fetch a rope?”
“Martin?” Lia gasped. She stopped circling the enigmatic man and rushed him, gripping his sleeve. He reacted defensively, but let her seize him.
Another smirk. “He
felled the Fear Liath, girl. We were trying to join you. To aid you in your mission. We lost two to that beast, but Martin finished the kill and rid the mountain of that demon. He booked passage on a ship from Bridgestow and left before you even made it back to this forsaken country. You have the Prince’s orb. You will lead me to Martin. We leave at dawn.”
Lia stared at him in surprise and chafed at his presumption. “I serve the Aldermaston of Muirwood, not Tintern. I must seek…”
“Permission? You are such a child. I have been an Evnissyen since my birth. How old are you? Seventeen? I have twice as many years behind me. I have been to Dahomey many times. I know the road to the island Abbey. I know the woods full of stones and flooded with boulders. I know the port of call, Vezins. But Martin insisted that I bring you with me. So I must insist that you come along whether the old man wills it or no. I am not normally this polite.”
This is polite? she thought darkly. “Why do you come now?” Lia said, challenging him.
His eyes were dark, brooding. “Because we cannot wait any longer. Whitsunday is past. The apples are harvesting and will be mashed into cider. The cider will be drunk at the winter celebration. The winter celebration is when the Blight will come. It will strike at Twelfth Night, the beginning of winter. We must be on the ships before the winter storms arrive and prevent us from sailing. The plague stirs from Dochte Abbey on Twelfth Night.”
As he spoke, an image bloomed in Lia’s mind. A Leering stone carved into a circle made of entwining serpents. As she looked at it, it began to glow with fire.
Lia blinked and the vision was gone. She stared at Kieran Ven coldly. “Before I go anywhere, I must speak with the Aldermaston.”
“For your sake, I hope he says yes.”
* * *