The Scourge of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #3)

The word made his eyes widen with hunger. “Yes! I am half-starved. I have ridden for two days without rest.” His horse validated his words. The mare looked exhausted and worn out. “I have eaten little, not trusting myself into the hands of strangers. I had hopes that Muirwood had not fallen, despite the stories. But I see that I arrived too late. It has already fallen to the Blight.” He ran his hand through his tangled hair.

“You are a maston?” Lia asked, staring at him.

“Yes.”

“Let me see your palm.”

Only another maston would know to look there for the scar. He lowered his sword and shifted it to his other hand. After tugging off his glove, he showed her his dirty palm, but she could see the mark of the stone where it had burned him.

“You wear a necklace?” he asked her, his eyes squinting warily. “A charm of some sort?”

“Not a kystrel,” Lia answered with a nod and showed him the ring she wore on the string. He looked relieved.

“I am grateful it is not,” he murmured somberly. His eyes glowed with inner fire. “They are powerful. Even the strongest mastons succumb to them. The strongest of us all.”

Lia looked at him, her stomach lurching. “Where did you ride from, sir knight?”

“The Battle of Forshee. Though it was not much of a battle.” His teeth grit together. “We abandoned the earl and each rode our own way.” He rubbed his mouth on his arm, his face livid with memories. “I should have left for Pry-Ree when Demont was murdered. I thought Forshee would redeem the mastons, but he could not. Not with her as his wife.” He looked at her blackly. “The earl’s wife is hetaera. I know she is. You could see it just looking at her. I could not serve him. And now he is ill, and…”

Lia did not mean to, but she started. “Ill? What do you mean? The Earl of Forshee?”

“Who other?” he replied with a growl. “He came back from Dahomey with Demont’s niece and said he was bidden to marry her, even though the king had sworn peace if she became his queen. Instead of ending this business, he began it anew. They were married at Billerbeck Abbey on Twelfth Night, and then the Blight struck him. He fell sick two days ago. He was coughing and retching. The Dowager’s forces were closing in when I took flight. They were closing the ring around us, but I made it through. Forshee was too sick to ride. Pareigis hunts every maston now. I heard in Wells town that the king’s army of mercenaries will land now that the storm has passed over, but the Queen Dowager already has the kingdom under her grip. They will kill Forshee for treason, they will. If the sickness does not end him first.”





CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN:


Fallen Blossoms





Winter ended with an abruptness that surprised Lia. It seemed as if snow crusted the forlorn Abbey grounds one day and then the next, a warm humid breeze floated in and the ice melted away all at once. For a fortnight at least, she had experienced the stirrings of the Medium preparing her that when spring came, it was time to leave Muirwood. Something would happen – she did not know what. Perhaps the Queen Dowager would send her army. Perhaps the Dochte Mandar would arrive. Something was coming and she felt uneasiness, a warning to prepare. Perhaps Maderos would come and relieve her of the burden he had placed on her. She thought that the ships would not leave during the winter, not when brutal storms lashed the seas with their utmost ferocity. They would have gathered to a safehaven, to a secret place. Spring would bring calm waters and she would need time to track them in Pry-Ree quickly. Without the Cruciger orb, it would make the search more difficult.

The winter had been sad and lonely for Lia. Every so often, a traveler would appear at the Abbey looking for shelter and safety. Some had heard a warning from a family member to flee to Muirwood. Occasionally it was an entire family, mostly poor and desperate. They brought news she did not want to hear, but she listened to the stories of the world beyond. She listened and her heart died a little bit each time.

He was no longer called the Earl of Forshee. His titles and lands had been stripped by the young king and given to his sister, Marciana, who was still missing. Marciana was placed under the wardship of the Earl of Dieyre, who would control the lands in her absence. He was by far the wealthiest noble of the realm. His influence with the young king and the Queen Dowager was unmatched by any. It was clear by the reward offered that he would pay handsomely for any information regarding Marciana’s whereabouts. But Dieyre had never come to Muirwood himself.