by Jeff Wheeler
“Kill me!!” Dieyre roared, craning his neck. “You are a man! I spoiled your sister! I ruined her! Do not show me mercy. Do not you dare show me mercy, Forshee! You defeated me. Now end it! End my life!”
The kystrel dangled right in front of her. One of her hands was transfixed by a crossbow bolt. She could not even move the fingers. If she let go of Scarseth’s wrist, she could snatch it.
Colvin’s voice was full of anger and loathing. “I will not, Dieyre. I can see your thoughts. You ordered that she be killed if you met your death. I will not be her executioner and yours.”
Lia’s strength failed.
She released Scarseth’s arm and grabbed the snail-shaped medallion which was the source of his power over the Leerings. The edges were hot in her palm as the dagger plunged into her ribs. She closed her eyes, summoning the Medium’s power to help her in her final moments of life. All the flames from all of the burning Leerings, she summoned into her hand. She could feel the light and heat from her fist blazing. She made it hotter and hotter, a forge fire of intensity. The kystrel melted in her hand and the binding on Scarseth was snapped.
“Then you will die for me,” said the Earl of Dieyre. “A thousand marks to the one who takes off his head!” he shouted at his soldiers.
She could not move. It was over for her as the blood welled up from the dagger wound. Lia felt arms draw underneath her and lift her. Opening her eyes, she saw Scarseth’s face near hers as he carried her towards the Leering, his face a mixture of guilt and desperation. He staggered, almost dropping her, and then placed her gently next to the Leering. He took her hand to touch the cooling stone. He was helping her save the Abbey.
“Please!” he whispered. “Save us…”
The Gift of Seering opened up her true eyes and she saw it all at once. Twenty knights rushing at Colvin, weapons bare. He stood in the midst of a storm, surrounded by blinding golden light. Ellowyn hiding in an ossuary as soldiers searched the rubble for her. The masses of soldiers were marching towards the Abbey, but had halted, confused since fires were no longer burning. What did that mean? She could feel their confusion. Was it safe to go further? Where was their master?
Lia?
It was the Aldermaston’s thoughts. The Aldermaston, who stood alone at the Abbey gates in the hurricane of power that Pareigis unleashed on him. Her guards battered on the gates, which were twisting and bending and shaking, nearly down. That was the moment. That was the instant when things began to tip. The Leering thrummed with power.
Lia, I am the one meant to die! It is my blood! Please! Not you!
But she was already fading, already slipping past the mortal coils that bound her true self to the body of her second life. The Aldermaston could sense her death and it overwhelmed him with grief. Pareigis was exultant as the gates tottered down, clanging to the paving stones. The Aldermaston crumpled, his heart giving way. Then his thoughts were shielded from hers as he succumbed to the blackness.
Lia felt the tug, the pull of Muirwood Abbey. She drifted in the wind towards it, summoned by it. The Abbey stood on the gently sloping hill and it seemed as if it were already afire. But not with crackling orange flames – it burned with light brighter than the noonday sun. She could feel the Abbey defenses building, seething, throbbing. The Leerings that were once blazing turned white. As her shadow-self rose towards the ancient structure, she saw it happen. The twin rivers that enclosed the highland on two sides leapt from their banks. A flood of water thundered into the valley floor. The Abbey was encircled by the rivers completely. The soldiers halting in the fields below raised a scream of fright at the waters converging around them, flooding the entire valley floor.
The weight of Pareigis’ will tried to stopper the floods, to send them back, but it was like shoving the moon. As Lia drifted near to the Abbey, towards the Apse Veil, she watched in delight as maston after maston wearing the collar and spurs of Winterrowd emerged from inside. There was Garen Demont in front, rushing with his men towards the gates, swords drawn. Lia felt a rush of joy. Pareigis and her knights were outnumbered completely. The Apse Veil drew her inexorably towards the Abbey. She was returning to Idumea. Instead of sorrow, she felt warmth and peace. There was no pain, no suffering now. Only peace.
But there was something behind that beckoned her. Glancing back, she saw Colvin shining in a ball of light. All around him were dead Dahomeyjan knights. One by one, they fell as they tried to kill him. The feeling was familiar and haunting. Yes, it was the feeling she had at Winterrowd. The power of the Medium in full force. She had summoned it again to save his life. To protect the man she loved. The Apse Veil drew her nearer. She longed to go back to Idumea and see the garden-cities. Part of her wanted to stay. Something was not quite finished. But it was like a tiny leaf trying to pull itself away from the wind that was blowing it. She was incapable of going back there, no matter how much she willed it. The power that drew her own was inexorable.
She passed through the Abbey walls as if they were made of clouds instead of stone. More and more knight-mastons were coming, one-by-one from the Rood Screen. It was an army! It was Demont’s entire army! They had not been killed in the north? She did not understand it. But even though she could not, she discovered that it did not matter. She was safe and warm, comforted by the Medium’s power. Safe from all harm and from all tears.
She was nearly to the Veil when something snagged at her. It stuck to her and halted her. She was aware of a feeling of discomfort and pain. She did not want to feel that again. She shrunk from it. The feeling was persistent. She was falling, back…away…falling down a well shaft into an icy bath of water full of knives and bones and teeth. There was pain and agony and then a warm, calming glow. A calming glow that suddenly flared white hot and bright.
A voice spoke through the light – Colvin’s voice.
“Lia Hunter, I Gift you with life. Come back to me. You will live. By Idumea’s hand, you will live. Come back.”
She blinked. There was the pressure of his hand on the crown of her head. There was the sound of water and waves sloshing against her and she realized she was cold and soaked. She blinked again and again until she was able to see. Looking up, she saw Colvin’s face, saw the tears running down his cheeks as he lifted her in his arms and started to carry her up the hill.
Lia could see over his shoulder. Where there had been a meadow full of soldiers she saw a vast lake. The Tor was tall enough not to be covered, but everything else for leagues was submerged. Muirwood rose like an island, protected on all sides.
“You brought me back,” she whispered in his ear. There was so much pain in her side and leg that she could hardly think.
“The price was paid,” he answered. “It was enough.”
She nodded, smiled, and rested her cheek against his neck and fell unconscious.
CHAPTER FORTY FIVE:
Farewell
When Lia awoke from the draught that Siara Healer had made her swallow, her eyelashes fluttered slowly. She did not know where she was. The only light was the gentle glow of fire from a hearth. Lia blinked again, trying to clear her vision. When she tried to move, to sit up, her body coiled with pain and she gasped. Her left hand was so bandaged that she could not wiggle her fingers. She wondered if she would be able to use it in the future, if it would ever heal. It took several moments to realize where she was – the room in the manor house where Marciana and Ellowyn had slept. There were no windows, so she did not know whether it was day or night. She rested on the feather-stuffed bed beneath a thick coverlet.
“Do not move,” Colvin said, coming from the shadows. He approached and sat on the edge of the bed. She tried to sit up again, but winced with pain as every movement reminded her of her injuries.
“Here, let me help you,” he offered, arranging the pillows for support and then lifting her slowly. She wore the thin, soft chemise that Marciana had given her over her chaen.
“The Abbey is safe?” she asked, but she knew that it was. She could f
eel the warm peaceful feeling in the air.
“Yes, because of you,” he answered.
She was grateful. A great sadness welled up in her heart when she remembered the Aldermaston collapsing at the gate and his thoughts went black. He was dead, she was sure of it. She could not bring herself to ask though. She blinked back tears.
Opening her eyes, she stared at him again, noticing the difference. “You have shaved,” she whispered hoarsely seeing his face in the firelight – there was a red scar on his cheek. As she cleared her throat, he fetched a cup of water to soothe her thirst. He held the cup to her mouth and she drank deeply. “Better,” she said after. “Is it very late?”
He shook his head. “The sun will set soon. You slept most of the day.”
“Where is Ellowyn?”
Colvin looked down at her and smiled, his expression a quirk of interest. “With her uncle. No, she is not dead. And neither is Garen Demont.”
Lia closed her eyes, remembering the vision she had seen. “I remember,” she said. “He came through the Apse Veil with all of his knights. I remember seeing him…after I died.” The thought made her shiver, despite the warmth of the hearth and Colvin so near. She opened her eyes again and looked into his face which was tender and conflicted. “You brought me back, Colvin. How?”
His lips pursed in a struggle with a smile he tried to prevent. “Your gratitude overwhelms me,” he said blandly, then scratched his hair and gave her a pointed look that said she was ridiculous. “Do you think that I could force the Medium to do anything?” With one hand, he touched the ring dangling over the leather jerkin from around his neck. The motion drew her attention to it. He lifted the ring and looked at it and then at her. “When you tossed this at me, I was conflicted. I could not bring myself to let you die to save us. But I also recognized that the Medium might expect it. That was an awful moment for me. A terrible moment. That I might lose you forever.” His weight shifted and she felt her throat constrict, feeling him so near. His face was so unguarded, so exposed it made her tremble. “I wanted to believe that it would not end that way. So I waited as you ran off and pled for the Medium’s direction. I could follow the gully the way you pointed, to Maderos’ cave. Or the other way which was the direction you went. Very clearly, I knew what I should do. I told Ellowyn to go the other way and hide amidst the ossuaries. All of the soldiers were following you like moths. I was there in the gully, near you, when they caught you at last. The Medium commanded me to save you.” He gently reached out and brushed a lock of curly hair away from her face. “It was a command I was pleased to obey. I knew I could bring you back. I was there so that I could, even though I am not an Aldermaston.”
Lia shook her head slowly, feeling grateful and confused and tired and hungry and a dozen other things all at once. “The Medium told me that I was going to die. Why? I saw you and Ellowyn putting stones over me, like we did to Jon Hunter. Was it wrong?”
Colvin’s face hardened. “When did you see that?”
“Before dawn. I realized that I would not be going with you two to Dahomey. I have the Gift of Seering. It happened like at other times. I believed I was going to die. That is why I gave you my necklace.” She reached out with her good hand and touched the hard edge of the ring. “I wanted you to remember me.”
His face flushed, his eyes so intense with emotions that she blinked and discovered tears in her eyes.
“How could I ever…ever forget you? When you are in my thoughts constantly, every day and every night. You mean more to me than anyone else in my life. Do you understand that? I am worried about my sister because I do not know where she is. But I cannot go to her. My duty compels me to bring Ellowyn to Dahomey to warn them of the coming of the Blight. Wherever I go, I will be thinking of you. I do not need this thing to remind me.”
Lia breathed out deeply, resting against the soft pillows. “That makes me feel much better. And worse. But I want you to keep it. I want you to wear it in Dahomey. How I wish I could go with you…but it hurts to move.”
He smiled at her tenacity. “The healer said it will be some weeks before you are strong enough to walk. The bolt broke the bone in your leg. Your hand will heal, she tells me. It will be painful, but the damage will not be permanent. The knife wound was fatal. You lost a lot of blood and could not breathe. But when I called you back, it started to heal. The sound of your breathing has grown stronger all day.”
“Have you watched me sleep then?” she asked, a little concerned at the thought of him watching her when she was so vulnerable and unaware.
He smoothed some of the hair from her face. “I was going to hold a vigil for you tonight until you awoke because I wanted to say goodbye. Sowe has been tending you. So has Bryn and Pasqua. They helped the healer tend to you. I was only allowed to see you after you’d been bathed and clothed. Pasqua’s bed has been carried into the kitchen. You will rest there where they can look after you night and day. I am sure you are very hungry.”
She nodded slowly, still full of questions though. “When are you leaving?”
“At dawn. Pen-Ilyn will row us across the water.”
Lia twisted her head and gave him a puzzled look.
Colvin nodded. “When you summoned the defenses, it drew water from several rivers around the Abbey. He was trying to leave when the current suddenly pulled from the other way and drew him back towards Muirwood. All of the ships that the Queen Dowager used were smashed or have sunk. He has the only boat in this Hundred right now. All day he has been ferrying knights back and forth across the huge moat, filling a bag full of coins if I am not mistaken. He will bring us to Bridgestow and continue to ferry for Demont until the waters recede. If they recede.”
Lia smiled at the thought of seeing Pen-Ilyn again. “Is his nose broken still?”
“The healer set it. It is purple but it will heal.”
“Was it another one of Dieyre’s lies that Demont’s army was defeated up north? We all thought he was dead.”
“It was not a lie. He truly believed Demont was dead. You will find the story interesting, I think. Remember that everyone in Demont’s service is a maston or a knight-maston. They were marching north to deal with a rebellion of the Earl of Caspur. He had control of all the approaches. His men were waiting to trap Demont and prevent escape. Demont knew he was outnumbered and his men were weary and Caspur’s fresh. There was an Abbey in that Hundred where Demont’s men sheltered. He knew that Caspur would not recognize the rights of the Abbey to safeguard them as he was burning the Abbeys within his lands. The Medium told him to cross the Apse Veil to Muirwood. They left their horses. They left the young king behind with a small guard to sneak away. Anyone who was not a maston was told to depart in the night. When the morning came, there was a great fog like the kind that happen here. Caspur stretched his line so that Demont would not slip away in the mist. There was confusion and his men started attacking each other, thinking they had stumbled across the mastons. By the time the fog lifted, Caspur learned that his army had nearly destroyed itself. Demont’s men, meanwhile, crossed the Apse Veil to Muirwood.” He paused, looking her keenly in the eye. “They crossed two days ago. But they did not arrive at Muirwood until this morning, when you summoned the defenses. Not only did they cross a bridge of distance, they crossed a bridge of time, arriving when they were needed. The men are a little confused at having lost two days unexpectedly as well as hearing the reports of their death. But they defended Muirwood and have taken the remnant of Queen Dowager’s soldiers into custody.”
Lia shook her head in amazement. “I believe it. When I crossed the Apse Veil, Maderos hinted that he could take me other places and other times as well. So what have you done to Dieyre? You just mentioned having spoken to him.”
Colvin folded his arms, his face growing severe. There was the anger again, just beneath the surface, implacable and intense. Not fear – only anger. “He is alive though will not reveal where he had my sister taken. He knows that is his only coin to bargain
with, and he is being greedy with it. I think she was taken or is being taken to one of his manor houses in his lands with orders to kill her if anyone tries to free her. She is his hostage.”
Lia sat forward suddenly and winced with pain at her side. He gripped her shoulders and pressed her back against the cushions. “That is a secret he cannot hide for long. When you are feeling better, then I would like you to take some knight-mastons and save her. With the orb, you can find her.”
“Yes,” she replied reluctantly. “I wish you had killed him. When there is a poisonous serpent about, it is not wise to let it slither. But for her sake, I am glad you did not. I heard what you told him, that you could perceive his thoughts and knew the trap he had set for you. What a cruel man, plotting her death as a consequence for his. What is being done with him? Please assure me that he is not roaming free.”
“Indeed he is not. His mood is surprisingly buoyant for a man whose plot had just met with unmistakable disaster. He is not as glib as he was, nor is he repentant. He demands a trial in Comoros. Demont is willing to oblige him and he will be taken to Pent Tower after Demont has secured the city. It is a prison for nobles. And as you may guess, he will be under guard constantly, as he is very rich and will likely try to bribe his way out of punishment. I am sure you will want to know about the Queen Dowager as well? I thought so. She is under guard and being kept in a room here in the manor house. When Demont arrested her, he took away her heirloom necklace. There was a kystrel embedded in the jewelry.”
Lia was not surprised. “She did wear a lot of jewelry. But I thought kystrels leave a mark on those who use them? Scarseth…his skin was ravaged by tattooes. Does she disguise it somehow?”
“You are right about the effect, but strangely, her skin was not marked. She does not hide it. She said, rather haughtily, that in Dahomey, her family’s line does not suffer the marks for using kystrels. They claim that it is the only true way to use the Medium and that we are corrupted in our use. After her failure, she railed against Demont, the Aldermaston, against us all and promised she would see every last maston killed. She ordered us to return her to her brother, the king of Dahomey, which we will not do until our mission to Dochte Abbey is finished. She did not take defeat…gracefully.”