The Blight of Muirwood
Page 66
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The surge of the Medium was so strong it rocked Lia back on her heels. The Aldermaston bowed his head, as if bracing himself against an unseen storm beating cruelly upon him. The strain of it showed, but he lifted his head again. She saw his legs begin to the tremble and stepped forward to hold him up, but he glanced at her in warning, his eyes blazing.
Turning, he faced the Queen Dowager. “You have no authority to condemn me,” he stated simply. “Surely you know that.”
“In Dahomey, traitors are dealt with regardless of their rank,” she spat.
“But we are not in Dahomey, nor do we converse in Dahomeyjan.”
“Some of yours can speak it well enough,” the Queen Dowager sneered.
“As do many in this country. But you overlook that as an Aldermaston, I can only be brought to trial by the High Seer of Avinion. You have no legal custody over me or this Abbey. I have the charter grants engraved and sealed within the cloister library. The king has no jurisdiction here and neither do you. You come here and flaunt your supposed authority in the hope of cowing me into submission. I refuse to accommodate you. I will answer to the High Seer only.”
Her face was beautiful but twisted with fury. “A formality I have not overlooked, Aldermaston. Even as we speak, I have riders brooking to Avinion.”
“The term is breaking, your highness. Your Dahomeyjan tongue gets tangled at times. I do not fear the evidence you will undoubtedly conjure to support your accusation. My man Jon Hunter was murdered in the Bearden Muir by the sheriff of Mendenhall, and I can summon his bones to prove it. You helped dig his grave, did you not, my lord Earl of Forshee?”
Colvin was as stern as a boulder. “With my own hands, Aldermaston. He was my guide through the Bearden Muir. He was killed by the sheriff, as the Aldermaston says. He was dead prior to the battle.”
“You were seen!” Pareigis shrieked. “Following the battle, you were seen with the hunter! I have twelve witnesses who will vouchsafe it.”
“Then produce your witnesses,” Colvin snapped. “There were many looters after the battle who came to strip the corpses. For the right coin, they would say anything you wished. I demand to face my accusers. I am not a traitor but a member of the king’s Privy Council. Your accusation is absurd.”
“You are not an Aldermaston,” Pareigis said, seething. “You are an Earl of the realm. You must face a trial of your peers, as you say. So I arrest you…”
“He is within the protection of Muirwood Abbey,” the Aldermaston said, interrupting her. “These grounds safeguard him, as they do any with the rank of maston. You cannot arrest him here. It is contrary to the laws of the realm. I will not grant you audience any longer. Be gone.” He turned and started to hobble away, his face grave and wincing with pain.
“Do not turn your back on me!” she commanded. “This is your final warning. Open the gates at once! I cannot hold my men back forever.”
The Aldermaston paused and looked back at her, as if she were nothing but a buzzing fly. “I am not concerned for my safety or the safety of this Abbey, Pareigis. You mock what you do not even comprehend.”
“No Aldermaston,” she replied in a low voice. “It is you who does not understand. These bars will not protect you from me. And those who mistakenly trust that you will shield them will cower and wail in fear when they discover it is but an empty promise. Even walls of stone can burn.”
* * *
“Like fragile ice, anger passes away in time. Therefore, the greatest remedy for anger is delay.”
- Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE:
Pareigis’ Terms
The Aldermaston walked firmly away from the gates, trailed by Lia, Prestwich, and the knight-mastons. Shortly after, the Earl of Dieyre caught up with them, his stride easily overtaking theirs. His voice throbbed with anger.
“It would not take much to batter down those gates,” Dieyre warned. “You should treat with her while you still can. She is merciful. She has spared many from the gallows.”
“No doubt to enlist them into her service,” the Aldermaston replied archly.
“I cannot believe you are ignorant of the risks you face by opposing her. Do you not care of the lives of the villagers?”
Colvin’s voice was cold with fury. “Are you saying she will turn those murderers loose on our countrymen?” His hand closed around the sword pommel.
“No, Forshee, I am not. But I cannot believe the Aldermaston would risk it. She does not suffer fools and she remembers every slight. Offer to treat with her.”
Turning, he faced the Queen Dowager. “You have no authority to condemn me,” he stated simply. “Surely you know that.”
“In Dahomey, traitors are dealt with regardless of their rank,” she spat.
“But we are not in Dahomey, nor do we converse in Dahomeyjan.”
“Some of yours can speak it well enough,” the Queen Dowager sneered.
“As do many in this country. But you overlook that as an Aldermaston, I can only be brought to trial by the High Seer of Avinion. You have no legal custody over me or this Abbey. I have the charter grants engraved and sealed within the cloister library. The king has no jurisdiction here and neither do you. You come here and flaunt your supposed authority in the hope of cowing me into submission. I refuse to accommodate you. I will answer to the High Seer only.”
Her face was beautiful but twisted with fury. “A formality I have not overlooked, Aldermaston. Even as we speak, I have riders brooking to Avinion.”
“The term is breaking, your highness. Your Dahomeyjan tongue gets tangled at times. I do not fear the evidence you will undoubtedly conjure to support your accusation. My man Jon Hunter was murdered in the Bearden Muir by the sheriff of Mendenhall, and I can summon his bones to prove it. You helped dig his grave, did you not, my lord Earl of Forshee?”
Colvin was as stern as a boulder. “With my own hands, Aldermaston. He was my guide through the Bearden Muir. He was killed by the sheriff, as the Aldermaston says. He was dead prior to the battle.”
“You were seen!” Pareigis shrieked. “Following the battle, you were seen with the hunter! I have twelve witnesses who will vouchsafe it.”
“Then produce your witnesses,” Colvin snapped. “There were many looters after the battle who came to strip the corpses. For the right coin, they would say anything you wished. I demand to face my accusers. I am not a traitor but a member of the king’s Privy Council. Your accusation is absurd.”
“You are not an Aldermaston,” Pareigis said, seething. “You are an Earl of the realm. You must face a trial of your peers, as you say. So I arrest you…”
“He is within the protection of Muirwood Abbey,” the Aldermaston said, interrupting her. “These grounds safeguard him, as they do any with the rank of maston. You cannot arrest him here. It is contrary to the laws of the realm. I will not grant you audience any longer. Be gone.” He turned and started to hobble away, his face grave and wincing with pain.
“Do not turn your back on me!” she commanded. “This is your final warning. Open the gates at once! I cannot hold my men back forever.”
The Aldermaston paused and looked back at her, as if she were nothing but a buzzing fly. “I am not concerned for my safety or the safety of this Abbey, Pareigis. You mock what you do not even comprehend.”
“No Aldermaston,” she replied in a low voice. “It is you who does not understand. These bars will not protect you from me. And those who mistakenly trust that you will shield them will cower and wail in fear when they discover it is but an empty promise. Even walls of stone can burn.”
* * *
“Like fragile ice, anger passes away in time. Therefore, the greatest remedy for anger is delay.”
- Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE:
Pareigis’ Terms
The Aldermaston walked firmly away from the gates, trailed by Lia, Prestwich, and the knight-mastons. Shortly after, the Earl of Dieyre caught up with them, his stride easily overtaking theirs. His voice throbbed with anger.
“It would not take much to batter down those gates,” Dieyre warned. “You should treat with her while you still can. She is merciful. She has spared many from the gallows.”
“No doubt to enlist them into her service,” the Aldermaston replied archly.
“I cannot believe you are ignorant of the risks you face by opposing her. Do you not care of the lives of the villagers?”
Colvin’s voice was cold with fury. “Are you saying she will turn those murderers loose on our countrymen?” His hand closed around the sword pommel.
“No, Forshee, I am not. But I cannot believe the Aldermaston would risk it. She does not suffer fools and she remembers every slight. Offer to treat with her.”
