The Wretched of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #1)

“No, Lia. You are stealing from the Aldermaston’s private chamber. This is worse than the ring, for those did not truly belong to him anyway. If he finds out…do you understand the risk? If he finds out you did this…”

Lia stamped her foot. “What is the likelihood that tonight, of all nights, a disaster will happen that will require him to use it? We can sneak it back tomorrow the same way we are taking it tonight. He will not even know we touched it.”

“But if something was going to happen, he would know. Who else would he blame? Astrid?”

“Sowe, you are acting like you are six again.”

“Where would we hide it? How would we sneak it past Pasqua?”

Lia grinned, glad she had convinced Sowe at last. “Those questions are better, and I have already figured them out. No, you will not get blamed for it as you fear. Bring me the mug to take its place on the chimneypiece. Hurry!”

And so, despite Sowe’s protests and hand-wringing, Lia stole the orb. For even though she had said it was borrowing, in the deeper part of her feelings, she knew the truth.



His name was Colvin Price and he would become the Earl of Forshee. Lia nestled against the wall near the low-burning flames from the bread ovens. The Leering eyes were dull. The bricks smelled of yeast and milled flour. She thought about Colvin and the first night he had ended up in the kitchen, bewildered, sick, and wounded. His distrust was understandable now. His very life depended on people not knowing who he truly was. The king did not suffer traitors to live. In fact, the penalty for treason was a harsh death. It made her sick inside thinking what the king’s men would do to him before killing him. Only the bravest of knight-mastons would risk that fate. And Colvin was not even a knight yet.

She looked up at the loft. Even down by the fire, she could hear Sowe breathing. It amazed her how long Sowe could sleep. She prized it greater than snitches of treacle or stolen edges of crust. Lia could not sleep. She was too excited about the dawn and what the daylight would bring. And she was conflicted – especially by the thought that she might never see Colvin again.

The thought caused a little pinprick of regret which she tried to squash, but it still poked her.

Lia stood, setting the orb down near the flagstones and then tied up the linen stuffed with food. Stolen cuts of meat stuffed into husks of bread, along with carrots, turnips, two kinds of cheeses, nuts, and a flask. They had wrapped it in several sheets of linen to preserve it and would carry it down to the waymarker before dawn.

A firm knock sounded on the rear kitchen door, making Lia jump with fright. She rushed to the door, expecting to see Colvin. Hurryingly, she raised the crossbar and pulled the door handle.

But it was not the armiger. It was not the sheriff.

It was the knight-maston who had brought Colvin to the Abbey days ago, still haggard and mud-splattered and wearing the magnificent sword belted to his waist.

“Look at you, lass. You seem surprised I came back. Why is that?”

“You came,” Lia nearly gasped. “I did not think…the sheriff’s men…I thought they had captured you.”

“The sheriff’s men? Unimaginable. They do not have enough brains between them to fill the husk of a nut, but that is neither here nor there. From what I heard in the village yesterday, you have done your part with great cleverness. He is safe?”

Lia nodded triumphantly.

He smiled broadly at her. “There is a good lass. I knew you were a clever girl. So young to be so clever.” He nudged the door with the tip of his boot. “He is not hiding in here, is he?”

“No, the sheriff ransacked the place looking for him. Sowe and I – she is my companion you know – we took him to a safe place.”

“Is he far?”

“Not very. I was going to fetch him at dawn and steal his horse back and…”

“His horse? It wandered here too?”

“Yes, days ago. We are trying to help him find Winterrowd. But now that you are here, you can take him with you and…”

He shook his head, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow. “No, it is nearly dawn. I must flee before the other helpers awaken. Tell him to meet me at the Pilgrim Inn. I will be waiting for him. The sheriff’s men are leagues from here by now.”

“The Pilgrim,” Lia echoed. “It is nearby. I will tell him. You are a brave knight. Garen Demont is lucky to have you. Do you suspect the sheriff is watching the road?”

He smiled, appearing flattered. “It is you who are brave. Oh, I am sure the road is being watched. Sheriff Almaguer is not as clever as you, but he is still a fearful man. Did you see him when he came to the abbey?”

“He came to the kitchen looking for…” She almost said his name and stopped herself, not knowing if the knight maston already knew who he was escorting. “For him.”

“That must have frightened you.”