The Scourge of Muirwood
Page 47

 Jeff Wheeler

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
The three horseman rode on, muttering amongst themselves as they passed.
Lia breathed deeply. It took several moments for her feelings to subside. She understood what had happened to Marciana better. A Dochte Mandar had manipulated her feelings. Even knowing it was not real, she could not deny that the feelings she experienced were quite real. They were so powerful, she wondered if she could have resisted if more had been there. Their power increased with numbers, she realized. A lone maston would not be able to stand against many.
“Jouvent, you must tell me this. What is the water rite? I have not heard of it.”
The boy looked terrified. “It is one of the maston rites. When the Dochte Mandar opened the Abbeys to all, they said that all must join in the rites. The water rite is one. They have a holy bowl and cup their hands and pour water on your head. For babes, they dip their fingers in the bowl and swipe it across their foreheads, here…” He demonstrated. “I did not know there were babies to be mastons.”
“There are not,” Lia replied, sick inside at what was happening. “This is wrong. This is very wrong.”
“I must get back to mother,” Jouvent said. “Thy way is clear to the Abbey. I must be past the forest by dark.”
“Jouvent,” Lia said, stopping him. Her feelings still trembled from the power of the Dochte Mandar. “The mastons are not causing the Blight. That was a lie.”
“I know.”
“But he was not lying about one part. Something will happen at Twelfth Night. If I do not return to Vezins soon – if I am delayed – you must seek the captain of the Holk – the ship that I sailed on. His name is Tomas Aldermaston. You and your mother must be on board by Twelfth Night.” She gripped his shoulder and forced him to look at her. “Do you understand me, Jouvent? The Blight is coming and it will come by Twelfth Night. There is not much time left.”
“Aye.” He smashed the cap back on his head and started back the way they had come.
“Good boy,” Lia said. She turned and faced the giant mountain, the Abbey where Colvin and Ellowyn had come earlier and could not leave because of the Queen Dowager. She was in custody in Muirwood. Colvin and Ellowyn were in custody in Dochte.
She had the suspicion that it was not by chance that it had worked out that way.
Squaring her shoulders and striding forward, she approached the outer walls of Dochte Abbey and walked towards the nearest gate. After reaching into the pouch at her waist, she withdrew the orb. Who should she find first? Colvin or Martin?
As she stared up at the sculpted stone walls, the endless rows of shingles and chimneys and trees, she was awed by its presence. The sight of Muirwood had always made her experience the Medium. It felt like home. Dochte Abbey was ancient and splendid. It dwarfed any structure she had ever seen, including the castles at Comoros. But there was no feeling of light and warmth coming from it. The feeling it exuded was one of utter blackness.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Hetaera
The entire hillside of Dochte Abbey was a maze of walls and an endless parade of stone steps that ascended higher and higher. Every time she passed through another arch, it would curl upwards again, another laborious ascent bringing her higher and higher within the grounds. Her legs burned from the effort and still she had not reached even the lower portion of the outer walls of the Abbey. There were fellow pilgrims everywhere, thronging the grounds and visiting shops and bakeries for food. There was cider in abundance. As Lia finished mounting one particular set of steps, she looked back the way she had come and could see over the outer walls far below and saw the rippling waves of the sea that now smothered the lowlands beyond, trapping her inside. From the vantage point, there were several tall sturdy trees spreading their foliage over the lip of the walls and offering patches of shade. The walls were cut of square stone blocks, forming guardrails and even steps, so meticulously laid that it seemed as though every portion of the grounds had been sculpted. Lia rounded the corner and started up again, trying to keep her breath. The pilgrims around her were marked with tattoos and she shielded her face with her cowl. Hawkers tried to sell pies or cider, but she waved them away.
The Cruciger orb was her guide, helping her maneuver the twists and bends as she ascended the heights to the Abbey proper. What she needed and desired was a secret way into the Abbey, one that would bring her past the eyes of the sentinels – the Dochte Mandar. She did not want to meet any more and hoped the orb would guide her to a safe entrance. It did.
Near the fifth level of the city as she walked down a long corridor full of inns and shops, the orb guided her to a secluded park set off by a wrought-iron gate that was not locked. It was rusty and squeaked as it opened, but she walked down a narrow aisle between two crammed buildings that opened to the park full of mature pine trees and stone benches. The inner walls were thick with rose trees as well that were interspersed and offered a splash of color and wonderful scents. There was no one in the garden, it seemed tucked away and hidden from the main ways she had passed. Lia rested a moment, trying to summon her strength, and then studied the orb again. The pointers directed her to the wall.