The Scourge of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #3)

“Listen to me, Dieyre. The Blight is coming by Twelfth Night. It is not because of the water rite. It is not what Pareigis is planning. It is in consequence of what she is planning. It is a terrible sickness that will destroy everyone in these lands. Every man, woman, and child. It is truly a Blight and it will come. This is the last chance to escape it. This is the final hour to flee before it is too late.” Lia looked at him desperately, trying to make him see the urgency in her eyes.

His expression was flat, full of skepticism. “How can you say that the Medium will do that? What right does it have to judge and destroy everyone? Who gave it that right? No, Lia. It is you that are wrong. The Medium is real – I have no doubt of that. But it can be controlled by whichever side forces it to obey.” He stepped closer to her, his expression welling up with hatred. “Up until now, it has been controlled by aging old men who strain to pass their airs! For too long they have scolded and nagged and manipulated everyone into accepting their version of controlling the Medium. You are a wretched, so you do not truly understand. Read the words of ancient Aldermastons who have handed down the secrets and meticulously copied them in tome after tome. But it is a lie, Lia. Anyone can control the Medium. Even a wretched. Even you. The future belongs to the young. It belongs to those with vision and feelings, not to doddering men who lust after children. It ends at Twelfth Night, Lia. Their rule of shame ends. You will see it before you leave Dochte Abbey. I promise you that. You will see the fulfillment of what I have said. You will see that no Medium comes to save you. No Medium will scourge the land. No – what you will see is us using the Medium to scourge the land. To purify gold by fire, as it were. You will live to see it, Lia. And when you have, you will join us. For you will not leave this place until you have joined us. And if you will not join us, then you will be killed. Not faint like you did last time.”

Lia felt the shell of doubt and anger encrusting Dieyre. Nothing she could say would change his mind. He was well past hearing her words.

The Medium forced her to speak anyway. She saw it bloom in her mind, the image as vivid as the noonday sun.

“It is you who are wrong, Dieyre,” Lia said, shaking her head. “You will realize it one day when you are the last man alive in all the kingdoms. You will be alone, Dieyre. You will be left all alone. Remember my warning. You are the last man.”

Dieyre snorted contemptuously. “You are raving mad,” he whispered with a chuckle.

Another knock sounded on the door.

He smirked. “That will be the Aldermaston of Dochte to introduce himself.” He reached for the goblet again and took a long, ponderous sip. “When you have finished suffering needlessly, say the word and you will be brought back here. Then maybe you will accept my offer of a bath and a drink.”





CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR:


Almaguer’s Revenge





Lia did not expect the Aldermaston of Dochte Abbey to seem so young. She had expected someone as old as the Aldermaston of Muirwood – someone with silver hair and a thick full beard. Instead, she found a handsome man with thick walnut hair and only slivers of gray at the edges. He had penetrating hazel eyes and an almost pleasant-looking smile. The ceremonial cassock and robes were black and fringed with gold and fur pelts.

He looked at her, gazing at her with his penetrating eyes, studying her for a moment as if nothing else mattered. The look filled her with ice. She had never met someone whose presence was so powerful with the Medium, it seemed to radiate from him. However, she noticed that it sucked the Medium out of her. It was a strong force, a tidal force that leeched life out of everyone near him. Even the Dochte Mandar were made to seem insignificant in his presence. Lia cowered, struck by his presence as if he were on fire.

“Take her to the dungeon,” he said in a simple, calm voice.

She glanced at Dieyre who smiled at her knowingly and inclined his head, as if providing the offer one last time. She was tempted to stamp on his foot. She would have except for the overwhelming compulsion which tugged at her when the Dochte Mandar entered and seized her arms.

Lia was escorted into the bowels of the fortress, plunging into a lair of darkness lit occasionally by the stain of fire from the serpent-torches. She was weak with hunger and fatigue. Fear gnawed at her incessantly, each step bringing her deeper and deeper into the lair. Her heart struck like a hammer and anvil. There was not even the dregs of the Medium now, except for the Aldermaston’s presence. He radiated it so blindingly, yet it was false. It was an aura that seemed to mask his true nature. She blinked, staring at the trim of his hair, the polish of his rings. His clothes were easily the most expensive she had seen.

Ahead a huge iron-bound door was opened, and that is when she heard the scream. It came from a man in agony. The sound made her shiver and shudder. It was pain – a total abandonment to pain. As the scream ended, she heard the voice sobbing and shouting out in Pry-rian, “By Cheshu, I will kill you all! You will all…” The threat was interrupted with another scream.

It was Martin.