“What is going on?” Maia demanded. “What news?”
“I was not given information to relate, my lady,” he answered. “Only that the chancellor must speak with you privately. There have been discussions at the wharf between the captain of the Hautlander ship and the chancellor. I know not what was discussed, I only know I am to bring you at once to counsel with Master Syon.”
“I will go,” Maia said. She turned to Suzenne and gripped her arm. “Stay here and try to keep everyone calm. If I do not send word back to you within the hour, order the evacuation of the city.”
Suzenne blanched and then nodded dutifully.
Maia followed the knight out of the solar and easily kept pace with him down the long corridor. A detachment of Carew’s guard awaited her below, sword hilts in hand. By the time she reached the courtyard, a horse had been saddled for her and brought to the front. Captain Carew was already mounted, and his horse stood next to hers. He had a grim, distrustful look. A groom helped Maia mount, even though she did not need the assistance. It was a warm summer’s eve, and the air was warm and pleasant.
Captain Carew brought his mount up next to hers. “I do not know what the fuss is about, Lady Maia. But I do not trust Hautlanders. Be on your guard.”
“I have been to Rostick, Captain,” Maia said simply. “Believe me, my trust must be earned.”
They rode at a quick pace to the rear of the castle grounds, where the royal wharves had been built. When they arrived, she found Richard waiting on the planks by a skiff full of armed men equipped with breastplates and poleaxes. Richard looked very grave and troubled, his eyes brooding and dark as he watched her dismount and make her approach.
A few torches hissed and sputtered in iron sconces fastened to the edge of the dock. The waters from the river lapped against the dock posts. The peculiar smell of dead fish lingered in the air.
“I do not like that look,” Maia told him. “What is it, Richard?”
He gestured for her to draw in next to him, and he walked a few paces away from her escort and the other men. He gave her a pitying look that made her heart darken with apprehension.
“Tell me!” she pleaded, unable to withstand the suspense.
She could tell it was painful for him to share whatever dark truth it was he knew. His look softened to one of great compassion.
“Maia,” he said gently. “It is not the armada. They are mastons, primarily. I have tested them to be absolutely certain. On board is the chancellor of Hautland, who seeks a truce and a treaty with Comoros. They wish to defy the Naestors and help defend us against the coming invasion.”
Maia stared at him, trying to understand why his look did not match his words. “It is likely a deception, a trick,” she said, shaking her head. “But you already know this. What troubles you so?”
He bowed his head and let out a deep breath. Then he met her gaze again, his eyes full of sadness. “The Prince of Hautland is on board the vessel. I met him as well. They are very wary of our intentions and do not want their heir captured and held hostage. But I did speak with him in our language. They desire a truce with Comoros and will join their power with ours if you agree to marry the Hautlander prince.”
Maia stared at him in confusion. “I am already married, Richard,” she said.
He sighed again and then reached out and gently touched her arm. “The chancellor has told me that the Dochte Mandar have invalidated your marriage to King Gideon.”
So that was the blow he had feared delivering. It felt as if a knife had been thrust into her stomach and twisted. Her strength seemed to drain from her, and her head began to buzz like a beehive. She felt sick with despair and racked with anguish.
“How can they do that?” Maia said, shaking her head. “It was performed by a Dochte Mandar surely, but there were witnesses. It was a legal marriage. Even my grandmother admits as much.”
“Yes, I know,” Richard said sympathetically. “But by whose authority was it conducted? The Dochte Mandar, and they are not recognized in this kingdom. I am sure this is intended as a way of sowing confusion and enmity, a way of further distancing us from the Medium. Did not Corriveaux say he would strike at your heart? By the decree of the High Scribe of the Dochte Mandar, your union has been annulled. The writ claims there was no consummation of the wedding, that you were abducted and forced into the marriage against your will, and that they revoke the decree performed by the presiding Dochte Mandar in Dahomey. Legally, they can do this, Maia. You are no longer his wife.”
Maia felt spasms of pain in her heart. She wanted to weep, but the surprise was still so fresh, it was hard to even draw breath. What would Collier think when the news reached him?
“This was announced?” Maia asked wretchedly. “This knowledge is spreading through the kingdoms?”