The Scourge of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #3)

She looked at him. “Do you already know about this? Is this part of the knowledge you cannot reveal?”


He looked at her pointedly, his features sharp in the darkness. “Speak on. Why must we leave tonight?”

“I told her to warn Colvin we would leave tomorrow night. If she cannot be trusted, she will plan a trap for tomorrow night to catch me before I can free Colvin. I did not tell her about you. If you can get Colvin out, then I will get her out. Then they can escape.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What of you, child. What will you do?” His voice seemed to throb with emotion.

“If they are safely hidden, then I can do what I must do. I will warn the Aldermaston of Dochte Abbey about the Blight. I have already told Colvin about the ship waiting at Vezins. I will meet you there.”

Martin was silent for a long while. “It is a sound plan, being brief. There is much that can go wrong. Much that likely will. But you are wise to plot against her before she plots against you. That is thinking like an Evnissyen.”

Lia experienced a warm surge of pride at his praise. “Why do you think Dieyre is doing this? Surely he cannot defend his lies? Demont will not come as he said he would.”

Martin watched her as they approached the hidden entrance at the wall. It opened for her and she guided Martin inside. Once the stone door sealed shut, she withdrew the Cruciger orb and it flared with light.

“When you get Colvin, you will not have much light. He had one candle last night. You must remember the path back to this door.”

“It was I who taught you the mazes beneath Muirwood, child. I think I can manage it. Lead on.”

She used the orb to point the way and quickly moved through the tunnel. “Why is Dieyre acting this way?”

“He is acting because he knows something we do not,” Martin replied. “The Queen Dowager is very subtle. Perhaps he is counting on her subverting Earl Demont. If he subverts, then the alliance can be solemnized.”

“But he is a maston,” Lia said, alarmed at Martin’s thinking.

“Even mastons succumb. Even mastons can be plagued with doubts. Turn here. I see the broken segment midway. A good marker. But a wise hunter is prepared.” He withdrew from a pouch at his waist a chunk of white stone. He marked the wall with it. “Chalk, from the cliffs,” he explained.

They continued through the passageway, winding through the hidden tunnel quickly. Lia remembered the tortuous passage, but the orb was her source of light and comfort. She could not imagine how difficult it would have been to find the way in the dark without it. Martin was wise to leave streaks of chalk to mark the way.

“Yes,” he continued sagely. “Dieyre is a crafty man who serves a crafty mistress. Be wary of his lies. The world is full of fools eagerly waiting to hear what they long to be told. A devious man will use that.”

“You seem as if you knew him,” Lia said. “You described him perfectly.”

“I have never met the man. But I am acquainted with his kind. He is driven by his anger. When he does not get what he wants, he calls it injustice. The anger feeds itself and destroys him from the inside. A wise man once taught me this saying from his tome. ‘For as the wood of the forest is, so the fire burns. And as a man’s strength is, so shall his anger be, and according to his riches he will increase his anger.’ Is it not strange that the more someone has, the less he feels he has? Envy can never be sated.”

“This way,” Lia directed, thinking on his words. It reminded her of the Aldermaston of Augustin. He had a wealthy Abbey and more fine things than she had ever seen before. Yet it was not enough. He coveted Muirwood and its supposed riches. She sighed, longing to be back home and hoping things were not as desperate yet.

They reached the small conclusion to the tunnel and Lia demonstrated the latch to open it. As expected, the room was empty. She knew Colvin would be with Hillel and she would be telling him of her plan. He would suspect that Lia would be waiting for him in his room, as she had the previous night. The memory of it still burned. It was still too new. Billerbeck Abbey was their destination. That was where they would marry.

She noticed Martin’s expression as he studied the room, glancing over the furnishings, the simplicity and sparseness of it. He nodded with approval.

“Thank you,” Lia told him, reaching out and touching his sleeve.

The fierce grin answered her. “I am proud of you, lass. Whatever happens, know that I am.” He struggled to speak as his eyes brimmed with tears. “He would be proud of you as well.” His jaw clenched shut, and she could see him fighting against his tongue – unable to say more.

Lia clasped him tightly, kissing his bearded cheek and then stole back into the tunnel, anxious to return to the tower and wait for Hillel’s return. She would do everything within her power to persuade the girl to leave. But if she chose not to go, Lia would leave her trussed up in the room and unconscious.

Suspicious and wary, Lia made her way back to the hetaera’s garden.





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