The Scourge of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #3)

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“I do not know what to think. The entire Abbey is fluttering with the news. The Earl of Dieyre arrived. He was set free from Pent Tower under my uncle’s orders. He brought parchment stamped with the privy seal giving him wardship custody over me. This means my uncle took the wardship away from Colvin and gave it to Dieyre. I do not understand how that could happen. I am dismayed. Dieyre said that my uncle has given his consent for me to marry the king, that it will heal the rift between our warring factions and has ordered it to be performed here at Dochte Abbey. If it is done, Demont promises to release the Queen Dowager and we all can return home in peace. I have never seen Colvin so angry. He challenged the seal and said it was a forgery. The whole Abbey is in an uproar. Dieyre promised that my uncle was coming in person and would vouchsafe for his instructions. There was a truce agreed upon after we left the kingdom. I do not want to marry the king. I do not wish it. Colvin took me aside and asked if I desired the marriage. I could not stop trembling for he was touching my hands. I do not wish it. I wish Colvin to take me from this place. I would go anywhere with him. This is not my country. I belong in Pry-Ree. That is where we will hide until the ships take us away if the Blight comes.”





- Ellowyn Demont of Dochte Abbey



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CHAPTER TWENTY:


Leigh Abbey





In Malvern Hundred near the border of Pry-Ree stood Leigh Abbey. It was fashioned in the same image as Muirwood, though smaller and not surrounded on all sides by a rotten mass of swamps. The village of Leigh was full of rich and fertile farms with fat sheep grazing in the lowlands. Those sheep were tempting targets of Pry-rian bandits who were known to cross the border and steal them. What very few realized, however, is that the sheep were Pry-rian by origin and generations before had been stolen from Pry-Ree to feed the hungry during a period of famine. What those from Comoros labeled theft was true – from a certain perspective.

Prince Alluwyn stood by the windows where he could observe the approach of the riders and the covered litter. The Aldermaston of Leigh stood nearby and tried to engage him in conversation, but the Prince seemed lost in his thoughts, staring down the road with uncanny patience. The outriders appeared first and that was sufficient for the Aldermaston to beg his excuses.

“I see they have arrived. I must greet the king, my lord. You will excuse me while I attend them. I will bring your…betrothed when she has disembarked from the litter.”

The Prince did not reply and stared as the Aldermaston scowled at him and then hefted towards the doorway, for he was a very portly man.

As the door shut, his bodyguard Kieran Evnissyen spoke disdainfully in Pry-rian. “The rake. He calls your marriage to Lady Demont a sham. Insufferable.”

“Patience,” the Prince muttered. He glanced at the young man pointedly. “A man can see contempt in your eyes. Remember that when treating with him.”

“This whole affair is contemptible, my lord,” he said acidly. “For three years she has been kept under guard since captured by that pirate off the coast of Bridgestow. For three years!”

The Prince smirked. “I know the length of time better than any man, Kieran.” He turned back to the window. He parted the curtain. “There she is, taking the king’s hand.”

Kieran rushed to the frame, but the crowd was thronging them, making a view of her impossible. The rotund Aldermaston shuffled back towards the Abbey manor, leading them.

“Look at the gold collar the king wears,” Kieran said disdainfully. “He is flaunting his great wealth. But at least he looks like a ruler. Your dress is too plain, my lord.”

“I will suit her, I hope. She was raised at a small Abbey after all, far from the wealth and splendor that is so ripe within Dahomey.”

“But she has been held at Pent Tower where even the butler’s costume is finer than yours. It is beneath your dignity.”

The Prince smiled tolerantly and waited as the muffled sound of feet quickly approached the door. Kieran retreated into the shadows again, becoming as inconspicuous as a page. He was young, even for an Evnissyen.

The door opened and the Aldermaston entered again, bringing the guests with him. The king showed his years well, and Alluwyn nodded to him deferentially. His blond hair was well silvered, but it belied a ruthless jut to the chin and penetrating green eyes. His presence reeked of hetaera. The Prince could see their influence on his countenance as marked as any blemish. Rather than exuding light, he seemed to swallow it – every aspect of him was like a vortex, dragging all cheer and brightness and joy from the room. His presence caused a ripple of doom to spread across the opening. The Prince saw the necklace chained around his throat and knew it was a kystrel.