“What? They took her?”
Maeg’s fidgeting worsened. “I know where they went. Lady Murer . . . you should have heard her boast of it. As soon as she put on the kystrel, she changed. She had been miserable since losing her position. She would mourn and then rage about it often. Once she had the kystrel, she became imbued with power. She wants revenge against you and anyone close to you.” Maeg gave Maia an imploring look and took her hand. “Murer went north. She is going to destroy Dodd’s army and burn Billerbeck Abbey. And she plans to ruin your relationship . . . with the King of Dahomey. She left two days ago. I tried to escape, but the house has been guarded until today. Corriveaux returned this morning, alone, and took the others with him and fled the city. I cannot go back there, Maia. They will know I betrayed them. They will kill me.”
Maia stared into the other girl’s eyes, into the well of conviction and despair she saw there, and then looked over at Jon Tayt. “Your strongest army is in the north,” he said, his own gaze full of wrath. “He will hold his own, by Cheshu. He better.”
But Maia could not bear to tell him what she knew about the powers of a kystrel. And if Murer’s goal was to travel to Dahomey, it meant only one thing.
Her stepsister Murer was turning into a hetaera.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Burning
It was nearing midnight when Lady Shilton and her household arrived at the palace under guard. Maia was weary, but she dared not sleep. Guards roamed the corridors and the city was restive and uneasy. Some families had abandoned their homes during the day, and more were beginning to trickle out.
Maia waited impatiently in the solar with Jon Tayt as her silent companion. It was the room where she had met her father the night he had sent her to seek the lost abbey. It was full of memories. She was heartsick from the knowledge that her impulsive, selfish stepsister was on the loose . . . and that she was likely wearing Maia’s former kystrel. The power the kystrel contained was enormous, and she had no doubt that Murer would not exercise the restraint Chancellor Walraven had always encouraged in her. After Maeg left, Maia had shared her news with Suzenne. The look on her friend’s face would haunt her nights for weeks to come. Suzenne trusted Dodd’s integrity, but she did not trust him completely against the power of a kystrel wielded by a jealous woman. While Lady Shilton had never implied Dodd would be a target for revenge, Maia and Suzenne knew the ways of the hetaera. With a face chalk white with dread, Suzenne had begged to go to Claredon Abbey to travel by Apse Veil to Billerbeck to warn Dodd about the invasion. She had left hours before, and there was still no sign of her.
The guards at the door announced the arrival of Lady Shilton. Richard had already interrogated her in his tower, and he accompanied her now. The woman looked frightened, her nerves frayed. Dark smudges marked the flesh under her eyes, and there was a guilty look about her.
Maia’s mind swarmed with memories of the hostility and abuse she had received from this woman. It nearly overwhelmed her, and she could not keep a disapproving frown from her mouth. She reined in her feelings, knowing that the dark memories would only foster more ill will between them. Instead, she forced herself to remember the night Lady Shilton had at last showed her compassion by giving her a new gown and trying to help ease her pain. Of course, Maia had been poisoned that same night, but she had survived that ordeal. She reminded herself that this woman’s daughter had been executed. The fall from grace must have been painful.
“Your Maj . . . esty summoned me,” Lady Shilton said in a tremulous voice.
Maia had been fidgeting all night and could not bear to sit down. Anxious to keep herself moving so fatigue would not drag her down, she approached her one-time jailer. “Lady Shilton,” she said with a nod. The woman looked haunted . . . fearful.
“I wish to plead for a life,” Lady Shilton said, coming forward and dropping to her knees. “You may do what you will with me, but I beg you to spare my granddaughter.”
Richard stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. “Before you beg for mercy, Lady Shilton, it would be best if you shared with the queen what you confessed to me this evening.”
Lady Shilton trembled and looked at the hand on her shoulder with abhorrence. She twisted her neck to gaze up at Richard Syon.
It did not escape Maia’s notice that Jon Tayt seemed about ready to spit on the hem of the woman’s dress. He sat by the window seat, holding a mug, and sipped from it slowly. He remained quiet and unobtrusive.
Lady Shilton wrung her hands.