The Blight of Muirwood
Page 72

Both doors were blocked.
Muttering to herself at the unfairness of it, she decided to confront Duerden. When he saw her coming, his cheeks flushed.
“Are you going…to the maypole dance?” Duerden asked, stammering in his speech.
She stared at him as if he were ridiculous. “I do not think anyone will be dancing tonight,” she answered.
“No! Several have been outside the gates and back again with the news. The Queen Dowager wants the Aldermaston in custody and the earls. Everyone else has been given a safe conduct to come and go as they desire. She announced it at noon and opened up her coffers to pay for cider and bread. Those who approach her knights are given coins. Whitsunday is still going to happen tonight. Where have you been, Lia?”
She was dumbstruck. What was happening? “I have been sleeping, Duerden. The Aldermaston has errands for me tonight.” How exactly could she tell him that she was facing the maston test?
“Surely you are not staying here tonight,” he said warningly.
“Surely I am. Muirwood is my home,” she answered. “Jon Hunter did not murder the old king, Duerden! The Aldermaston had nothing to do with it.”
He looked crestfallen. “The other wretcheds are leaving. Reome, Trisa, they are all in the square drinking Muirwood cider! The only ones who have stayed behind are Astrid, Pasqua, and Sowe. They are in the kitchen, eating the treats because Pasqua will not leave and she will not sell them to the Queen’s men.”
“Did Bryn leave?”
“I think so…”
Lia shook her head and marched past him to the kitchen doors, but he caught her arm.
“Lia, you cannot stay here!”
She looked him in the eye. “How can you abandon him, Duerden? He is the Aldermaston. Who is the Queen Dowager but a foreigner from Dahomey? When did she earn the right to govern in this Hundred? To threaten us? Go join the others then. I will not abandon him.”
His expression was troubled, wracked with pain. “I do not want you to get hurt. I…I care about you.”
She scowled at him. “I know. The Aldermaston told me. We are only fifteen, Duerden.”
He looked desperate. “My father and mother were both fifteen when they pledged their troth to each other. They did not marry until later, of course. I was not suggesting…what I mean is that I did not want you to think…you are right, we are so young, but I wanted you to know how I felt about you.”
She looked at him with a mixture of affection and exasperation. “I care about you, Duerden, but you are a learner. You do not need to pledge your troth to me. I am only a wretched.”
“Not to me,” he answered firmly. “I have given it much thought, Lia.”
“But we see things so differently. You want to join the dancing. I have duties here.”
“My parents are out there, Lia. How can I remain in here?”
“You should go to them. Please, go to them! I do not deserve your feelings, Duerden. And we are still too young. You may feel differently…after you know me better.”
He looked pained. “We have known each other for two years. This is not a mere fancy.”
She shook her head. “There are things I cannot share with you. Things that I know…about myself. I will not make any promises to you. I owe the Aldermaston a debt that I must repay. Please, go to your family. Be sure they are safe.”
He struggled with his feelings for a moment. Then he took her hand and kissed it quickly. “My feelings will not change, Lia. But I will obey you as I always have.” With a look of despair and sadness, he walked away from the kitchen towards the outer gates.
Lia swore at herself in frustration, with the lingering sensation of his lips on her knuckles alarming her. It was a tender gesture, straight from his heart, and it worried her. She turned and opened the kitchen door and received another shock when she stepped inside.
There was Edmon standing in front of Sowe, his face so close to hers, his voice low and urgent. He was holding her hand. Pasqua dabbed at her eyes as she watched nearby, her face a mixture of emotions.
Edmon’s face jerked as she entered, but he looked relieved. “Lia! Thank the Medium. I thought it was the Aldermaston.” He looked back at Sowe. “If you are forced to flee the Abbey, you will find a safe haven in Norris-York. My groomsman’s name is Jon Orchard. He will offer you shelter until I return. If you can, hire a wagon or cart to take you. Here,” he said, fumbling at his belt untying his purse. He seized several coins from it and plopped them into her hand. “This will be plenty for clothes and shelter. Disguises. Only if it comes to that.” He looked over at Lia. “For you, as well, if Colvin will not shelter you. But I think he will.”