by Jeff Wheeler
She sat on the edge of the fountain’s stone railing, and Collier stared at the fish, a far-off look on his face.
“What is it?” Maia asked him.
“Another memory,” he said, then shook his head to brush it off. “You like this garden?”
She shrugged. “The last time I was here was the night my father summoned me to go to the lost abbey.” She clasped her hands together and pressed her thumbs against her lips. “We argued, of course. I came here afterward to think about what he had said. It was a strange night. That was right before I first set foot in your kingdom.” She put her hands down on the stone and looked up at him. “Before you deceived me.” She gave him a wry smile.
Collier did not look chagrined. He folded his arms and put one boot up on the railing next to her. “I do not recall you confessing who you were either. I hope you do not regret that I took the liberty of dancing with you at the Gables?”
Maia smiled with pleasure and shook her head. The sinking sun made the shadows lengthen. She needed to cross the Apse Veil back to Muirwood to get some rest. Unfortunately, Collier was not yet a maston and could not travel there with her.
“You look bone weary,” he murmured softly. “The noise from this fish Leering is going to lull you to sleep.”
She started to rise, but he reached out and took her hand, helping to draw her up. She nestled against his chest, drawing her arms around him tightly. She felt his hands gently smooth her hair.
“I wish I did not have to go,” she murmured.
“I wish I could go with you,” he said darkly. “Soon, my love. Once the Paeizians are subdued, I will do my best to pass the maston test quickly. One cannot rush the Medium, I believe, but if it is at all possible, I will try.”
She lifted her gaze up to his face, saw the tender look there. “Will you walk me to the abbey?”
Collier nodded with a pained smile. Then he smoothed a lock of hair over her ear. “He does not care for you . . . as I do,” he whispered thickly.
Word has reached me that Lady Marciana will shortly be crowned Queen of Comoros. She surrounds herself with mastons, and listens only to their whispering in her ear. This will upset those in the realm who have betrayed the order. Her own people may topple her before the fleets even return. Then we will crush them all to cinders.
—Corriveaux Tenir, Victus of Dahomey
CHAPTER NINE
Wyrich
She awoke to darkness. Her heart tremored with fear, for the kishion had haunted her in her dreams. With a thought, she summoned light from a nearby Leering, and was startled to discover she was back at Muirwood in the room that she and Suzenne had once shared. The familiarity of the beds, changing screen, and even the tub in the corner by the fire Leering brought her comfort and helped dispel the gloom of her night terrors.
Because the room had no windows, she did not know what time it was or how late she had slept. Her body was sore and weary, but ever since she had arrived back at Muirwood, she had felt gloriously free. No longer was she subject to the oppressive taint of the Myriad Ones. All was peaceful, except for her own turbulent thoughts. She knew that she could not forever return to Muirwood to sleep at night, but until she found a way to rid the palace of the Myriad Ones and their influence, she needed to avoid the possibility of being overwhelmed by them.
Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, she remembered the look on the kishion’s face. The look that had told her more clearly than any words that he cared for her.
What a contradiction he was—the severed portion of his ear and his many scars were a gruesome reminder of his bloody deeds and dark past, of how ruthless and remorseless he could be. Yet she remembered sharing strawberries with him in the gardens of the lost abbey and seeing him smile. And he had saved her life twice. Still, it made her shudder to imagine him roaming through Comoros unchecked. Though it would seem he was not a danger to her, he was a danger. The knowledge that he would not abandon her willingly weighed on her. And she knew he would kill any man who tried to uproot him.
She straightened the blankets on her bed and quickly splashed water on her face to help wipe away the remnants of sleep. Then she hurriedly dressed in a simple gown and unbolted the door.
The Aldermaston’s manor was thrumming with activity. People scurried around everywhere, carrying crates and boxes, and the halls were filled with a veritable crowd of newcomers she did not recognize. Most wore simple clothing, not of any particular style—the men were in ribbed shirts the color of fleece, covered by leather vests with simple decorations along the fringes, and the women wore unadorned dresses and girdles of various colors, their hair partly concealed beneath simple scarves.
Maia was ravenous, so she left through the rear of the manor and headed to the kitchen where she and Suzenne had shared so many meals. It was no surprise to find Collett there, but in addition to the two kitchen helpers—Davi and Aloia—there were at least a dozen other young girls punching dough and stirring soups. There was bread baking in the oven fires, and meat was sizzling on spits near the ovens, at least ten hens with flakes of spices sticking to their glistening skins.
“Well, my lady,” Collett said with her usual sternness, “you find us much changed. Both of the kitchens work night and day now, and the menfolk are constructing two more kitchens over by the fish pond.”
“Poor Thewliss,” Davi said with a grin. “He cannot abide the crowds!”
Maia smiled and greeted the girls and quickly committed the new girls’ names to memory while Aloia fetched her something to eat. The kitchens were usually a place of quiet solitude, but she realized things had been changed permanently. With so many refugees from Assinica, the grounds of Muirwood Abbey would never be the same.
“You were born for such a challenge, Collett,” Maia said. “I do not know anyone else who could handle it.”
Collett gave her a small smile, but she was too proud of her humility to allow more of a reaction. “We all do what we can, thank the Medium. I am certain you have cooks aplenty in Comoros now. Many are thinking about following the Aldermaston to Augustin Abbey, but I am not such a fool. Muirwood is my home and ever it shall be.” Seeing the startled look on Maia’s face, she continued. “The High Seer announced some changes this morning while you were abed. Seems that we have a new master to serve.” Judging from her tone, she was a little unsettled by the idea, but she bore it stoically.
Maia sat on a stool and ate the salty soup Aloia brought her, relishing every bite. She dipped an end hunk of bread into the leftover broth and ate it more slowly.
“You have met the new Aldermaston then?” Maia asked.
Collett sniffed and nodded. “He is quite tall compared to our former master,” she said. “I must get used to his tastes and preferences. He is a good man, but we will always honor and respect Richard and Joanna Syon here.” She looked over Maia’s shoulder, her expression changing.
With the noise and clatter of the kitchen, Maia had not heard the doors open. She turned to see that the Aldermaston and his wife had entered, bringing with them another man who also wore the gray cassock of the order.
“Aldermaston Wyrich,” Maia said, bowing her head to him and rising. She set the soup bowl down on her seat.
He was tall and strongly built, and she was immediately struck by his sense of presence. He was a handsome, grandfatherly man, with cropped gray hair with a spike of white at the front. His natural, effusive smile and good-natured aura indicated he was at complete harmony with the Medium. When he saw her, he came forward and knelt in front of her, then reached out and took her hands.
His voice was heavily accented, reminding her slightly of the dialect of Hautland. But he spoke articulately in her language, and she realized that he had been Gifted with Xenoglossia. “Your Majesty, it is an honor and a privilege to finally meet you. We are ever your most devoted servants and friends.” He smiled at her—a smile that somehow touched his every feature. “You are the one who opened the Apse Veils again. You saved us from
death at the hands of our brothers.”
Maia felt her cheeks flush to be on the receiving end of such attention and heartfelt gratitude. “Please,” Maia said, interrupting him. She helped him stand. “I am your fellow servant, Aldermaston. Do not kneel before me. It is my understanding that in Assinica, there are no rulers?”
“That is correct,” he said, each word richly accented. He smiled warmly. “But we understand the traditions here are different, and we will adapt to them. We have enjoyed a long season of peace, but that season has ended. It is the way of the world. It is we who are your humble servants, my queen.”
“You have left everything behind,” Maia said sadly. “It must be difficult for your people.”
“We left trifles behind, my lady. What we brought with us cannot be taken away. We bring our covenants. We bring our knowledge. We bring our empathy. I hope all will be useful to you, my queen. We have come to serve.”
Maia shook her head. “Please, call me Maia as my Aldermaston does,” she said, walking over and taking Aldermaston Syon by the hand. She turned back to him. “Do you have a wife?”
“I do indeed,” he answered. “She is helping in the laundry at the moment. She will wish to meet you. Her name is Frances.”
Maia turned her gaze back to Richard Syon. “Aldermaston,” she said softly, her eyes looking into his. It was always difficult to meet his gaze, for it was always so penetrating and deep. He looked troubled, his face suppressing very clear feelings of mourning. He loved the abbey. He loved Muirwood with all his being. Asking him to leave it was like asking him to stop using one of his hands. But he did not murmur or complain.
“Maia,” he breathed softly, his compassionate smile twisting his sad lips upward. His eyes twinkled with affection for her. His thick hands squeezed hers. He was not tall or handsome. He was a doughy man with large ears and thinning hair. But he was also the most patient and kindhearted person she knew.
“I know your heart will always be here,” she said tenderly. “As will mine. But your kingdom needs you, Aldermaston. Your queen needs you. If we are to restore the people’s faith in mastons, there will need to be a period of revival, of reawakening. As you taught me yourself, the word repentance means to change our thoughts, our hearts, even our breath. I need you to help breathe new life into this kingdom. If we cannot spark their belief in the Medium strongly enough, we will be made void when the Naestors come. I wish you to be my chancellor. My advisor. My friend.”
The Aldermaston’s lips pursed, his jowls quivering. “I do not seek this office,” he whispered.
Joanna’s expression was equally serious. Where once she and her husband had shared constant companionship, they would now often be parted. But Maia could see the encouraging look in her eyes. Despite the difficulties such a change would pose, she wanted him to accept the office.
Maia put her hand on his shoulder. “For that reason, I give it to you.”
He frowned, weighed down by his emotions. “It is the Medium’s will,” he said, choking. “I will do it, however it pains me to accept it.”
Maia put her arms around him and then pulled his wife into the embrace. She stared at them with joy. “Thank you. I know that with one choice I get you both.” After squeezing them tight, she pulled away and turned back to Aldermaston Wyrich. “I need your help, Aldermaston.”
“Anything,” he replied, folding his hands in front of him.
“The coronation will be in Comoros,” Maia said. “Not Muirwood. All the people must see the queen anointed by an Aldermaston. This has never happened before. But it must be clear that the authority of the Crown is below the authority of the Medium. I depend on you—” she nodded to Richard—“to help him understand our rituals.”
“There is a tome where the rituals are engraved,” Richard said. “The anointing will happen at Claredon Abbey in Comoros. I have this information and will share it with Aldermaston Wyrich.” He gave her a grave look.
“What is it?” she asked him. He gestured that he would not speak of it then.
“The plans for the coronation are well underway,” Maia said. “When will the two of you join me in Comoros?” she asked.
Richard looked at his wife. “We were planning to cross the Apse Veil today. Your grandmother has already consecrated us as the Aldermastons of Augustin. We planned to return with you to the palace.”
“If I may make a suggestion,” Aldermaston Wyrich offered.
Maia looked at him expectantly.
“I am unfamiliar with the city of Comoros. But the records have taught us that even in Lia’s day, the city was corrupted.”
“And it still is,” Maia said. “One of the first things I plan on asking the chancellor to do is to prepare the city for the coronation. If I could summon a storm, I would. Shovels and rakes will have to suffice.”
Wyrich beamed. “Excellent. I will send a few through the Veil to assist with the cleanup. I also have charged a goldsmith with making a crown for your coronation. If you will visit with him before you leave, it can be sized appropriately. I have tailors working on clothes for you as well. I understand that you prefer more simple designs?”
Maia smiled at him. “Indeed.”
“I am certain we will come up with something you like. My people are at your disposal, my lady. Over the years, we have invented many interesting devices that will be useful to your people. Have you considered what music you would like for the coronation assembly?”
Maia stared at him.
“I thought not,” he replied with a wink. “Leave that to us as well. I will go find Frances. She will want to greet you personally, and I am certain there is much you must discuss with your new chancellor. Excuse me.”
He bowed meekly and strode out of the kitchen. Maia noticed that the additional kitchen helpers from Assinica had all been staring at him in respect. Upon his departure, they immediately went back to work without a reminder from Collett.
“What troubles you?” Maia asked the Aldermaston, who still looked grave.
He glanced at his wife, who nodded and approached closer. “What Richard is loath to speak, I will,” she said in a hushed voice. “This is not about serving you, Maia. Please believe that. We are humbled by your faith in us. The city is much in commotion, we hear. There may be rioting the day of your coronation. But that is not the concern. Richard looked over the tome containing the coronation ritual. Clearly some of the words need to be adapted, but a certain practice has been in place for centuries.”
She frowned. “Maia, the anointing of a king or queen is called the Chrism. It is holy oil. It is to be anointed on your shoulders, breast, forehead, and temples.”
Maia blanched. “I did not know this.”
Richard nodded sternly, his voice too low for the others in the kitchen to hear. “It is clear that the tradition is in place to prevent an Aldermaston from unknowingly anointing a . . . hetaera.”
“The ceremony is usually performed inside the abbey walls, but it is done in front of a few witnesses,” Joanna continued. Her look darkened. “Changing the ritual drastically will only attract more attention. And it would not be honest to do so.”
Maia felt the wrenching anguish again, and tears swam in her eyes.
The Aldermaston reached out and took her arm. “I feel the Medium has forgiven you, Maia. You would not have been able to open the Apse Veil otherwise. But consequences are still being meted out, dram by dram. We will ponder this situation. Do not be grieved by it.”
“How can this not grieve me?” she said. She kept her voice low so that the kitchen helpers would not hear. The weight of the past threatened to crush her, and she felt miserable. “Before Crabwell tried to execute me, he sent Aldermaston Kranmir to talk to me. I was forced to show him my shoulder. He already knows.” She was starting to tremble and could not quell it. “He is going to try and use that knowledge to unseat my grandmother. And you. He is already calling himself the High Seer.”
The Aldermaston and his wife shared
a grim look. “He may try to discredit you. But he will only invalidate his own authority,” Richard said. “When we go to Augustin, we will go with the full authority of the Medium. The Leerings there will no longer obey him. He may have deceived himself and others, but he cannot fool the Medium.”
Worry welled in Maia’s stomach. “I have the shadowstain on my chest,” she said with a groan. “And the mark on my shoulder. I do not see how this can stay secret. It is my sin. It is my offense. As long as the Chrism is anointed inside the abbey, the Myriad Ones cannot overwhelm me. They nearly did in the palace. But the witnesses will all know something is wrong.”
She felt the Aldermaston’s wife put an arm around her shoulder. “Perhaps it is time for the binding sigil to be broken,” she whispered, squeezing Maia.
CHAPTER TEN
Coroner’s Inquest
Even though the sun had long since set, many people still wandered the corridors of the castle, trying to complete the work of the day. Another day had passed since the news of the new chancellor had been announced, in which time Richard had been installed in the tower and his wife had taken up residence at Augustin Abbey. Kranmir had fled with some of his loyal supporters, but his whereabouts were still unknown. As Maia walked toward the chancellor’s tower, she was met with startled looks and quick obeisance as her subjects recognized her and the guardsmen escorting her. Light streamed down from several Leerings, and she saw it reflected in the glossy polish of the tiled floor. There were hardly any floor rushes and a host of servants swept the floors clean each day. Maia even saw a little drudge with a rag kneeling and scrubbing at the seams, and she frowned, knowing the little girl should be abed already.
When she reached the tower, she turned to face her escort. “Wait for me here if you must, but I would prefer that you retire for the night. It has been a long and busy day.”
“We will wait,” said one of the men without affection or warmth. The two positioned themselves on either side of the doorway. Maia sighed and then started up the tower steps.