Wanting to be left alone to her brooding, she retreated to her mother’s garden. After opening the door with the Leering, she shut it behind her and leaned back against it, closing her eyes. There was solitude in this garden, yes, but there were ghosts as well. She remembered seeing the white lily amidst the crown of blue flowers. And the dazzling mix of forget-me-nots summoned Collier’s voice again and again in her mind. She sighed deeply and stepped away from the door so she could walk past the accusing plants and wander the rest of the garden.
Earlier that afternoon, she had used her Gift of Invocation to study all of the Leerings she could find on the grounds and learn their purposes. Even now, she felt the power of the abbey Leerings pressing at the edge of her awareness. They would obey her in unison, she knew. She could sense the water Leerings that would summon the rivers to flood the lower valleys of Muirwood Hundred in case of emergency. The last time those had been invoked was when Lia had used them to defend the abbey against the Queen Dowager, a hetaera.
Maia folded her arms tightly around herself, feeling a chill in the shadows of the garden. It was getting late and her stomach growled for supper. She pictured Collett and Thewliss, the two kitchen helpers Aloia and Davi. It had been several days since she had seen them. The little kitchen had become such a tranquil escape for her.
She heard the squeal from Thewliss’s cart wheels approaching the garden. Had her thoughts summoned the old man? Though he never spoke to her unless asked a direct question, he was a gentle, caring man and a good companion.
Maia rubbed her arms as she gazed at the trees and plants. The garden was beautiful and peaceful, yet the real world lay outside of it. She felt a little guilty about resting in this place of peace when her people were marching against their enemies. There were battles being fought throughout the realm. She thought about the Earl of Caspur and his valiant efforts to hedge the enemy’s advance and protect those who were fleeing to Muirwood. She thought of Aldermaston Wyrich and his young maston warriors marching south to aid him. How many soldiers were wounded and bleeding? How many would only find sleep in their graves?
Please, if there is a way to prevent this bloodshed, she thought desperately, pouring out her heart to the unfathomable power of the Medium. Would you have us be their slaves? Would that suffice? They promised they would butcher us, but would it save lives on both sides if we agreed to do their bidding? Is that what you will from me?
She felt no answer from the Medium. Then a new thought nagged at her mind. Though she had visited every Leering around the grounds, she had not checked the Leerings that were actually hidden within the abbey. There were carvings inside that brought light, prevented plants from wilting, and served other purposes. She knew the story of how the residents of Muirwood had huddled within the abbey as the Queen Dowager began to burn it. Surely her entire kingdom could not fit inside, but was there another Leering that could be invoked to help them? Perhaps one capable of changing the heart of a man born to violence?
The thought niggled at her. Was such a thing possible? Her mind turned to the kishion, how his heart had softened and changed. What had happened to make it so? Her thoughts continued down this path as the door of the garden opened and Thewliss shuffled inside with his cart. Owen Page followed him inside.
“What is it?” Maia asked the breathless young man.
“My lady,” he gasped. “The Aldermaston bade me to find you. A ship has been seen coming up the river!”
Her heart clenched with dread. “Whose ship?” she asked, the feeling of desolation welling inside her.
“Not a Naestor ship, ma’am. It is from Dahomey. The hunters sent word by pigeon. They said it is the Argiver. The Aldermaston wanted you to know right away. It will dock after nightfall.”
Maia’s eyes were wide with relief and a thrilling joy burst in her heart. She blinked away tears and started to tremble in relief and anticipation. “The Argiver! Tell the Aldermaston I will be there shortly. Tell him he is coming. The King of Dahomey is coming to help us!”
As Owen hurried away, Maia walked over to the bed of forget-me-nots. She plucked one of the tiny flowers and brought it to her nose. Then she pressed her lips against the tiny petals.
Come to me, my love. I have not forsaken you.
That young cub of Dahomey burned our ships in the harbor of Comoros. He has deceived my emissaries into thinking he was at war with Paeiz. Some truce has been secretly arranged between their kingdoms, and their combined fleets struck us by surprise. Even now, I see the fires glowing in the harbor. This vicious attack will not go unpunished. The cub will feel the teeth of the hound. After we have destroyed Comoros, we will turn the curse of Dahomey upon the rest of his shores and torch the vineyards of Paeiz. Vengeance will be swift. Even now his ships have departed. I have warned the fleet commanders to watch for them. This was a feint. I have no doubt he will strike next at the heart. And I will relish the news of his death.
—Corriveaux Tenir, Victus of Dahomey
CHAPTER THIRTY
Threat