The Blight of Muirwood
Page 74
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Lia managed to keep her composure, but inside she anguished. “I will worry about you, wherever you are.”
He shut his eyes and then looked at her. “You have enough worries here to occupy your thoughts at present. I must go.”
She stopped him as he reached for the door. “There is a question I never asked you.”
He paused, his jaw clenching but he kept his temper in check. “Yes?”
She moistened her lips. “Were you afraid to take the maston test? Is it something to be feared?”
His eyes glinted. The shadows around them thickened as the sun went down beyond the distant hills. For a moment, he paused, thinking of his response. “It is something to fear in its own way. There is a weight and risks to the obligation, not the least of which is being asked to sacrifice your life as happened to Edmon’s brother.”
She looked at him hard. “The risk of being murdered?”
He nodded subtly, his expression stern. “There are fates worse than murder.”
She crinkled her eyebrows. “I cannot imagine that.”
“Well, it is clear from studying the tomes,” he went on, “that those who do not fight the Myriad Ones may end up becoming like them.”
She shrank within herself. The thought was as repulsive as she could imagine. “Are you saying that the Myriad Ones are the souls of the dead?”
He looked her in the eye. “No. The Myriad Ones go by many names. One of those names is the Unborn. They are souls too evil to be born.”
She shivered in the twilight.
“They surround us constantly, Lia. In the air we breathe. They worry us and nag at us with their thoughts. They deceive and seduce. If Muirwood falls it will be because of them and those who heed their whispers. Rather than allowing us to be overrun by them, sometimes Idumea sends the Blight. Even death would be a better fate than to live in a world ruled by the Unborn.” He pressed his lips closed. “Perhaps I have said more than I should have. The knowledge is a maston’s burden to carry. I am sorry if I disturbed you. Why did you ask?”
Lia looked at his face, tried to hold it in her mind in case she never saw him again. But she did not reveal why. “I always have questions. You know that. Be well on your journey.” She turned away towards the kitchen, not wanting him to see the tears that swelled in her eyes at the thought she would never see him again.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX:
The Essaios
When Lia had crept inside Muirwood Abbey to seek Colvin at the Pilgrim, she had been amazed at the Leerings inside, how they had lent life to flowers and plants that never enjoyed the sun’s warmth. On that day, she had stolen inside as a wretched. Now she was invited. Instead of her wretched gown and cloak, she wore the learner robes she had seen others wear and a veil to cover her face and hair and hide her identity. Prestwich walked alongside her the short distance from the manor house to the Abbey door she had entered before. The Aldermaston would be waiting for her within, she was told. She was nervous as she approached.
Prestwich halted before reaching the final steps leading up to the doors. His face flushed with emotion. He was as old as the Aldermaston. How long had he served him? “You will go on alone,” he said. “The gates are shut on the Aldermaston’s orders. No one will be allowed in or out of the grounds until he emerges. Good luck, Lia.”
“Thank you,” she replied and turned back to the final steps. As she approached, she experienced the warning feelings of the Leerings inset into the archway, filling her with doubt and dread. But she expected them and their warnings were but a murmur in her thoughts, easily silenced. She pulled at the thick handles and opened the pewter doors. She left the world under the blanket of twilight. Inside the Abbey, it was as bright as noonday.
At the threshold, she removed her shoes as she had been instructed to do and covered her feet with velvet slippers. Slowly, she lifted the veil so she could gaze at the inner structure, afire with brightness and radiance. Each Leering seemed to be rejoicing to see her and the feelings of warmth and happiness banished any dread the outer world had threatened her with. It was the essence of Muirwood and it flooded her. She waited a moment and then the Aldermaston appeared from the deep end of the Abbey proper, his gray cassock exchanged for one that was buttery in color and threaded with gold. There was no pain in his gait as he approached, as if the Abbey lent him its own strength for the task. He motioned for her to follow him and then took her down the corridor a short distance to the staircase leading down. It was the place where she had found the tunnel leading to the Pilgrim.
The chamber was beautifully carved out of marble and tiles, and polished wooden benches set in rows. The Aldermaston directed her to sit on the bench and he approached the large stone table at the head of the chamber. The Medium was so thick in the air, she could hardly breathe. It thrummed inside of her with its power, filling every crevice. Tears stung her eyes at the feelings surging through her. She remembered the stone table she had seen before. There was something familiar about it. Instinctively, she knew that both of her parents had been mastons. She clung to the hope that gave her.
He shut his eyes and then looked at her. “You have enough worries here to occupy your thoughts at present. I must go.”
She stopped him as he reached for the door. “There is a question I never asked you.”
He paused, his jaw clenching but he kept his temper in check. “Yes?”
She moistened her lips. “Were you afraid to take the maston test? Is it something to be feared?”
His eyes glinted. The shadows around them thickened as the sun went down beyond the distant hills. For a moment, he paused, thinking of his response. “It is something to fear in its own way. There is a weight and risks to the obligation, not the least of which is being asked to sacrifice your life as happened to Edmon’s brother.”
She looked at him hard. “The risk of being murdered?”
He nodded subtly, his expression stern. “There are fates worse than murder.”
She crinkled her eyebrows. “I cannot imagine that.”
“Well, it is clear from studying the tomes,” he went on, “that those who do not fight the Myriad Ones may end up becoming like them.”
She shrank within herself. The thought was as repulsive as she could imagine. “Are you saying that the Myriad Ones are the souls of the dead?”
He looked her in the eye. “No. The Myriad Ones go by many names. One of those names is the Unborn. They are souls too evil to be born.”
She shivered in the twilight.
“They surround us constantly, Lia. In the air we breathe. They worry us and nag at us with their thoughts. They deceive and seduce. If Muirwood falls it will be because of them and those who heed their whispers. Rather than allowing us to be overrun by them, sometimes Idumea sends the Blight. Even death would be a better fate than to live in a world ruled by the Unborn.” He pressed his lips closed. “Perhaps I have said more than I should have. The knowledge is a maston’s burden to carry. I am sorry if I disturbed you. Why did you ask?”
Lia looked at his face, tried to hold it in her mind in case she never saw him again. But she did not reveal why. “I always have questions. You know that. Be well on your journey.” She turned away towards the kitchen, not wanting him to see the tears that swelled in her eyes at the thought she would never see him again.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX:
The Essaios
When Lia had crept inside Muirwood Abbey to seek Colvin at the Pilgrim, she had been amazed at the Leerings inside, how they had lent life to flowers and plants that never enjoyed the sun’s warmth. On that day, she had stolen inside as a wretched. Now she was invited. Instead of her wretched gown and cloak, she wore the learner robes she had seen others wear and a veil to cover her face and hair and hide her identity. Prestwich walked alongside her the short distance from the manor house to the Abbey door she had entered before. The Aldermaston would be waiting for her within, she was told. She was nervous as she approached.
Prestwich halted before reaching the final steps leading up to the doors. His face flushed with emotion. He was as old as the Aldermaston. How long had he served him? “You will go on alone,” he said. “The gates are shut on the Aldermaston’s orders. No one will be allowed in or out of the grounds until he emerges. Good luck, Lia.”
“Thank you,” she replied and turned back to the final steps. As she approached, she experienced the warning feelings of the Leerings inset into the archway, filling her with doubt and dread. But she expected them and their warnings were but a murmur in her thoughts, easily silenced. She pulled at the thick handles and opened the pewter doors. She left the world under the blanket of twilight. Inside the Abbey, it was as bright as noonday.
At the threshold, she removed her shoes as she had been instructed to do and covered her feet with velvet slippers. Slowly, she lifted the veil so she could gaze at the inner structure, afire with brightness and radiance. Each Leering seemed to be rejoicing to see her and the feelings of warmth and happiness banished any dread the outer world had threatened her with. It was the essence of Muirwood and it flooded her. She waited a moment and then the Aldermaston appeared from the deep end of the Abbey proper, his gray cassock exchanged for one that was buttery in color and threaded with gold. There was no pain in his gait as he approached, as if the Abbey lent him its own strength for the task. He motioned for her to follow him and then took her down the corridor a short distance to the staircase leading down. It was the place where she had found the tunnel leading to the Pilgrim.
The chamber was beautifully carved out of marble and tiles, and polished wooden benches set in rows. The Aldermaston directed her to sit on the bench and he approached the large stone table at the head of the chamber. The Medium was so thick in the air, she could hardly breathe. It thrummed inside of her with its power, filling every crevice. Tears stung her eyes at the feelings surging through her. She remembered the stone table she had seen before. There was something familiar about it. Instinctively, she knew that both of her parents had been mastons. She clung to the hope that gave her.
