The Blight of Muirwood
Page 136
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He shook his head with sadness. “I will do what I can to tell the other Aldermastons. With our kingdom on the cusp of war, there is much to distract us from this threat.”
“Have you told Demont?” Lia asked.
“No, I wanted to tell you first,” he said. “You know the way to Tintern Abbey. With the orb, you can lead a remnant there. Perhaps that is your purpose.” He smiled at her fondly. “Have you felt your strength returning? Muirwood is strong with the Medium. You will heal faster here than anywhere else you could go. Not because Siara is such a good apothecary. The Abbey itself strengthens the mastons who swore their oaths here. You will be walking again soon. And you must. Your journey has not ended here.”
“You said the Blight would begin in Dahomey?” she asked. “Do you know where?”
He nodded, his face grave with inner pain. “Yes.”
The insight struck her like a blow. “It begins in Dochte Abbey, does not it? It will begin when that Abbey falls?”
The Aldermaston said nothing for a moment. His face hardened like stone. “But they will be warned first. They will be warned.” He sighed deeply.
“You know something that you cannot tell me,” Lia whispered.
A half-smile was her reply. Slowly, he rose from the bedside.
“What will you do with Scarseth?” she asked curiously. “Will you send him away with the other prisoners?”
He paused. “What do you think I should do with him?”
“I do not know. Maybe we should keep him here.”
“And his voice?” the Aldermaston asked, his expression inscrutable.
“He may know where Colvin’s sister is. There is much he could tell us. If we showed him mercy.” It felt right to her, even after all he had done. It felt right to show him mercy.
He looked back at her, his eyes piercing. “You would show him compassion? He who has betrayed you and tried to kill you? Who may betray you again?”
Lia swallowed, realizing the Aldermaston’s question was more towards himself than her. Had not Scarseth done both to him as well? There was a history between the men. A history of anger and distrust. “That is what I think we should do. If he seeks forgiveness.”
The Aldermaston gave her a wary smile. “Very well, Lia. For your sake. The Medium presses heavily on me now. You are unfit for your duties. There is time to heal and rest. Do you know what position he always craved when he was a wretched here?”
She shook her head.
“He wanted to be a hunter,” came the reply. “Maybe it is time he had the chance.”
* * *
Lia stood at the edge of the hill, looking down at the vast lake in front of her. Muirwood and the village were completely isolated from the roads. Trees were submerged. Water lapped on the grass lower down. A few hawks swirled in the sky, drifting on a lazy wind. It looked so different than what she had seen all her life and she said as much to her companion, Seth.
“Even without the lake, it was different than when I was here,” he offered, pointing towards the forbidden portion of the grounds. “There was a cemetery there. Some were dug into the hillside, even.” He grinned and then winced at the memories. “When I was a lad.”
Lia had difficulty walking fast, but at least she could put her weight on her leg again. It was sore every night, but she tried to walk further and further each day. When she gained her strength fully, she wanted to be ready to cross the Apse Veil to Dochte and Tintern. A bandage wrapped her palm and it hurt when she clenched her fist, but her fingers worked and the pain lessened each day.
She called him Seth now, instead of Scarseth, which is the name he was known in the Abbey during his time as a wretched. Seth Page.
“I have been meaning to ask you something, Lia.” He looked down at the grass, uncomfortable. Since the Aldermaston had restored his speech, he was more soft-spoken than she remembered. More observant. Sometimes his expression looked tortured.
“What is it?”
“How is your leg feeling?”
“You wanted to know how my leg is feeling?” she asked, confused.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I was asking if you wanted to rest a bit. The kitchen does not seem very far, but you were starting to limp more back there. I wanted to talk to you.”
She nodded and slowly sank into the grass on the edge of the hill, staring out the expanse of water. He joined her, but did not look at her. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he also stared towards the setting sun. “The Aldermaston said you knew how Martin died.” His voice was stiff, controlled.
“Have you told Demont?” Lia asked.
“No, I wanted to tell you first,” he said. “You know the way to Tintern Abbey. With the orb, you can lead a remnant there. Perhaps that is your purpose.” He smiled at her fondly. “Have you felt your strength returning? Muirwood is strong with the Medium. You will heal faster here than anywhere else you could go. Not because Siara is such a good apothecary. The Abbey itself strengthens the mastons who swore their oaths here. You will be walking again soon. And you must. Your journey has not ended here.”
“You said the Blight would begin in Dahomey?” she asked. “Do you know where?”
He nodded, his face grave with inner pain. “Yes.”
The insight struck her like a blow. “It begins in Dochte Abbey, does not it? It will begin when that Abbey falls?”
The Aldermaston said nothing for a moment. His face hardened like stone. “But they will be warned first. They will be warned.” He sighed deeply.
“You know something that you cannot tell me,” Lia whispered.
A half-smile was her reply. Slowly, he rose from the bedside.
“What will you do with Scarseth?” she asked curiously. “Will you send him away with the other prisoners?”
He paused. “What do you think I should do with him?”
“I do not know. Maybe we should keep him here.”
“And his voice?” the Aldermaston asked, his expression inscrutable.
“He may know where Colvin’s sister is. There is much he could tell us. If we showed him mercy.” It felt right to her, even after all he had done. It felt right to show him mercy.
He looked back at her, his eyes piercing. “You would show him compassion? He who has betrayed you and tried to kill you? Who may betray you again?”
Lia swallowed, realizing the Aldermaston’s question was more towards himself than her. Had not Scarseth done both to him as well? There was a history between the men. A history of anger and distrust. “That is what I think we should do. If he seeks forgiveness.”
The Aldermaston gave her a wary smile. “Very well, Lia. For your sake. The Medium presses heavily on me now. You are unfit for your duties. There is time to heal and rest. Do you know what position he always craved when he was a wretched here?”
She shook her head.
“He wanted to be a hunter,” came the reply. “Maybe it is time he had the chance.”
* * *
Lia stood at the edge of the hill, looking down at the vast lake in front of her. Muirwood and the village were completely isolated from the roads. Trees were submerged. Water lapped on the grass lower down. A few hawks swirled in the sky, drifting on a lazy wind. It looked so different than what she had seen all her life and she said as much to her companion, Seth.
“Even without the lake, it was different than when I was here,” he offered, pointing towards the forbidden portion of the grounds. “There was a cemetery there. Some were dug into the hillside, even.” He grinned and then winced at the memories. “When I was a lad.”
Lia had difficulty walking fast, but at least she could put her weight on her leg again. It was sore every night, but she tried to walk further and further each day. When she gained her strength fully, she wanted to be ready to cross the Apse Veil to Dochte and Tintern. A bandage wrapped her palm and it hurt when she clenched her fist, but her fingers worked and the pain lessened each day.
She called him Seth now, instead of Scarseth, which is the name he was known in the Abbey during his time as a wretched. Seth Page.
“I have been meaning to ask you something, Lia.” He looked down at the grass, uncomfortable. Since the Aldermaston had restored his speech, he was more soft-spoken than she remembered. More observant. Sometimes his expression looked tortured.
“What is it?”
“How is your leg feeling?”
“You wanted to know how my leg is feeling?” she asked, confused.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I was asking if you wanted to rest a bit. The kitchen does not seem very far, but you were starting to limp more back there. I wanted to talk to you.”
She nodded and slowly sank into the grass on the edge of the hill, staring out the expanse of water. He joined her, but did not look at her. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he also stared towards the setting sun. “The Aldermaston said you knew how Martin died.” His voice was stiff, controlled.
