The Aldermaston revived after three days. Word traveled through Muirwood as fast the birds in springtime. Pasqua rallied the kitchen to begin its work of feeding him and Lia was secretly relieved for the news. The kitchen began to hum and thrive, with Sowe and Bryn bending over balls of dough or brushing butter around the edge of a crust. Lia watched with jealousy, wishing she was active again. Each day was less painful than the one before it, though her heart was heavy. Word had come that Colvin and Ellowyn were bound on a ship for Dahomey out of Bridgestow. Garen Demont was still a guest at the Abbey and he treated his stay there as such, asking for permission from Prestwich instead of giving orders as if it were his own earldom. He deferred to the Abbey’s authority in all things.
“Sowe, can you slice the apples? He likes it in chunks. Bryn, up the ladder with you. Fetch a pumpkin. Go on, girl. Make haste! I am sure the Aldermaston is very hungry. I would like to have something ready quickly. Oh, that I had a spare shank to roast. Maybe I should send for the butcher.”
The kitchen door opened, letting in the blinding sunlight. Pasqua turned to bark in annoyance and stopped when she recognized the Aldermaston. Prestwich was there, gripping the old man’s arm to help keep him up.
“Aldermaston, we will bring the food to you,” Pasqua said, looking rattled at seeing him to soon. “We are working as fast as we can. Sowe, Sowe..!”
“I am not hungry,” the Aldermaston said, his voice choked and low. He coughed into his fist, his whole body wracked with spasms. Prestwich clutched him to keep him on his feet, whispering soothingly to him. “Please…I must speak with Lia. If you would all leave us for a moment. I must consult with her.”
Lia stared at him. He looked even older and his eyes burned as if he had a fever. Prestwich helped walk him towards the bed.
“But…” Pasqua hedged, obviously distressed about being dismissed from her own kitchen.
But the Aldermaston did not speak further. Slowly, step by step, he approached, his eyes fixed on Lia’s. Prestwich helped him sit and then stood away.
“Even you, old friend,” the Aldermaston whispered. Prestwich nodded with a surly look and left the kitchen, as did the others. Pasqua grumbled indignantly but soon the door was shut and a hush fell over the kitchen, except for the snap and crack of the fire.
Lia reached out and took the old man’s hand with hers. She squeezed it, giving him a look of warmth and respect. Her throat choked with tears. It was such a relief to see him awake, his dark eyebrows arched over his fiery eyes. “What is it you would tell me?” she asked hoarsely.
He looked at her intently. “I have learned what happened three days ago. I have learned of your injuries. I know that Colvin has taken…her…to Dahomey because of the writing on the Cruciger orb. How were you able to read it, child? What did it say?”
She swallowed, leaning back against the pillows, and told the story of their journey through Pry-Ree and the arrival at Tintern Abbey. He listened carefully, waiting with great curiosity, great interest on his face. She spoke of their return, Dieyre’s betrayal, and the flight through the Bearden Muir. He listened carefully, saying nothing until she was finished.
“The Aldermaston of Tintern,” he whispered, his eyes gazing down at the bed. “He knew you? He…recognized you?”
“Yes, but he would not say who I am. When I am well, I should like to go back and speak to him. I wish he had told me what he knew.”
The Aldermaston grunted. “He cannot, child.”
Lia looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I am sure the Medium binds his tongue. So they have gone to Dahomey.” He sighed deeply. “That is where it will begin. That is where it will start.”
“What?” Lia asked, her stomach coiling with worry. “The Blight?”
He nodded. “I saw it in vision. I saw what Aldermastons in many countries have been seeing. We have all seen the colors of the leaves changing, predicting the passing of a season. But I have seen the result. I have seen the skeletal trees remaining when all the leaves have fallen. It is a Blight greater than any other we have known. A sickness and plague that will destroy everyone. Everyone. Not a man, woman, or child will survive it when it comes. Its devastation will be complete. Total. It will be the end of all kingdoms.” His look burned into hers. “I have seen it in my mind. There is only one way to save ourselves and that is to abandon these shores. The exodus has already begun. The Aldermaston of Tintern told you of it.”