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The Blight of Muirwood

Page 38

by Jeff Wheeler


  Lia seized his arm, staring at him intently. The Medium blazed in her mind and scorched her heart with the truth of it. “Brought to him?”

  “It was after Pry-Ree’s fall. Not long after. He was the captain of the guard, remember? That night, I was roaming the Cider Orchard, stealing apples. There was a man with a basket. He was dressed like Martin. I thought it was him at first, when I saw the gladius. But he was younger. Wore the same leathers and hood. I followed him through the Orchard, quiet as could be. He took you to Martin, who was walking the grounds at dark. I was not close enough to hear everything that was said, and I could not understand it because they spoke in Pry-rian. Martin wept bitterly, but he called you his granddaughter. I understood that much and hid in the shadows as the other man stole off. Martin stared at you for a time, teasing you in the basket. Then he dried his eyes, turned all gruff and serious again, and went to the kitchen and gave you to Pasqua to tend.” He sighed deeply. “He did not claim kin with you. I never knew why. He let you be raised as a wretched, even though he knew who you were.” He gave her a long and serious look. “That is why I never wanted to hurt you, lass. That is why I regret having stabbed you and deceived you. I must ask for your forgiveness, however long it takes me to earn it.”

  With that, he slowly rose and wiped his nose. “Someday, I would like to visit the mountain where Martin died and ask his forgiveness as well. Maybe you will take me there…someday.”

  Lia was stunned. Her feelings swam and churned. But it was not right. It was not settled. There was something wrong in what Seth had revealed to her. Nodding to him, she also rose and they walked in silence back to the kitchen. Thoughts spun through her mind. She sorted them out, putting them together, one by one. As she fit each thought in the right place, she felt the comforting throbs of the Medium reassuring her. It whispered that her insights were true. The Prince had visited Muirwood and left Martin behind. Traits of the Medium were often passed on to the next generation. Lia had the Gift of Seering. She must have had it from her father. Her father, who had visited Muirwood and had walked the same grounds. He had visited the inner depths of the Abbey and seen the altar. She had felt his presence when she had first entered the Abbey. The memory of it had whispered over the intervening years. She tried to keep each foot straight. Tried not to walk too hard, to wear herself out, but her heart hammered in her chest. Her thoughts blazed and arched and struck each other, causing more sparks of insight in her mind. Her father had seen what would happen. Had known that a protector would be needed. Why else would he leave the captain of his guard behind at the Abbey when he would be needed most in Comoros? Unless he knew that the captain was needed to protect his unborn child. To train those who would protect the child. To train the child.

  Lia shuddered and Seth asked if she was cold. She shook her head, unable to speak through the lump in her throat. The sky was darkening quickly and she could see the light from the kitchen windows. He did not question her again, but left her at the door and sulked into the night, likely wondering if she was harboring bitter feelings.

  She yanked open the door and walked inside the kitchen. Pasqua looked over at her worriedly. “There you are. You were gone longer than I expected. Is…Lia, are you all right?”

  She still could not speak. Scarseth had found his voice but she had lost hers. Pain throbbed in her leg from the hard walking. Ignoring it, she went beneath the loft and pulled loose the brick that concealed the Cruciger orb. The orb that was left with her as a child. Her father’s orb! She stared at it, already knowing what would happen. In her hunt for Ellowyn Demont, she had always pictured the girl in her mind. She did that with most people, thinking of their face instead of their name. Thinking of them as she knew them.

  She stared hard at the orb. She was facing south. Dahomey was to the south. Find Ellowyn Demont, she thought fiercely. The orb glowed, the spindle spun lazily around once and pointed at her. Writing appeared on its surface.

  Lia – Ellowyn – stared at it as the tears burned in her eyes. She knew it all as the knowledge flooded inside her mind and her heart felt as if it were on fire. It was the Medium, confirming her knowledge. That the girl sailing to Dochte Abbey with Colvin was not Ellowyn Demont – she was Martin’s granddaughter instead. A girl the Medium would not respond to. The truth crushed against her feelings relentlessly. Colvin had known of the missing Demont girl as a young boy. He had determined to be the one to find her.

  And he had, without knowing it, when he was abandoned on the kitchen steps.

  “What is it?” Sowe whispered, looking at her in concern, squeezing her shoulder.

  She found her voice at last though it came out a choked sob. “I know who I am, Sowe. I know it. The Aldermaston knows it too.” Her heart blazed with emotions. “He knows it too!”

  ###

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  In Blight, the reader gets to experience the rituals of the maston order. Many early readers wondered where the details came from, so I would like to point inquisitive minds to the works of the Jewish historian Josephus. I read many of his works during my master’s program at San Jose State and found his account of ancient traditions to be quite fascinating. He describes the rituals of the Essenes, one of the various Jewish sects of his day, and you will find that I even used the Greek version of their order (Essaios) in the book as well. I did try to focus the world-building on ancient traditions that are documented in the sources and in religious texts. All of the oaths Lia makes, for example, come directly from Josephus. The concept of “oath magic” is a theme I have used in my other books as well – that one can harness great powers not through deep study and training but through deep covenants to handle power with restraint.

  Of the trilogy, Blight is my favorite for many reasons. It was fun to write, first of all, and allowed me to expand on the relationships explained in the first book. I have always been an admirer of the middle parts of series. The Empire Strikes Back is my favorite Star Wars film, and Elfstones of Shannara is my favorite novel of all time. Both were the middle stories of a trilogy. I especially enjoyed writing the scenes with Lia and Colvin as their relationship became more complex. There are some moments in the book that were taken from my own life – memories that my wife and I have shared as teenagers – such as running down a hill in Rancho San Antonio County Park in a rainstorm in February our senior year in high school. The monastery there is my own personal Muirwood. Others were more recent, such as a family excursion to Calaveras Big Trees State Park in California, which inspired scenes in Pry-Ree.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jeff Wheeler is a writer from 7-10 p.m. on Wednesday nights. The rest of the time, he works for Intel Corporation, is a husband and the father of five kids, and a leader in his local church. He lives in Rocklin, California. When he isn’t listening to books during his commute, he is dreaming up new stories to write. His website is: WWW.JEFF-WHEELER.COM

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  CHAPTER ONE:

  CHAPTER TWO:

  CHAPTER THREE:

  CHAPTER FOUR:

  CHAPTER FIVE:

  CHAPTER SIX:

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  CHAPTER NINE:

  CHAPTER TEN:

  CHAPTER ELEVEN:

  CHAPTER TWELVE:

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

  CHAPTER NINETEEN:

  CHAPTER TWENTY:

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE:

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO:

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE:

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR:

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE:

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX:

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN:

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT:

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE:

  CHAPTER THIRTY:

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE:

  CHAPTER THIRTY T
WO:

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE:

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR:

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE:

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX:

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN:

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT:

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE:

  CHAPTER FORTY:

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE:

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO:

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE:

  CHAPTER FORTY FOUR:

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE:

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX:

 

 

 


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