The Scourge of Muirwood
Page 7

 Jeff Wheeler

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Lia tried to calm her heart, to let him sense her confidence instead of shock. “How did you get here?” she demanded of him. “The waters have not subsided. The land is flooded for leagues around the Abbey.” He was not wet.
“I do not wish to be seen,” he replied, not answering her question. “Follow me.” With that, he stepped back into the shadows and started towards the rear of the kitchen. It was dangerous, she realized. What was he doing there? Why had he come? She stood rooted in place, fingering her weapon, wondering whether to return and warn the Aldermaston or find Seth to accompany her.
His voice drifted from the dark. “It is a beautiful moonlit night. And mild enough that others will be wandering the grounds, so if I am to remain unseen, as is my desire, I must withdraw to where fire cannot reveal me.”
Lia was intrigued by his choice of words. They were almost musical the way they came out of his mouth. There was a different manner of speaking in Pry-Ree, a different way of expressing ideas. Rather than being alarmed, it calmed her. Cautiously, she ventured into the shadows and followed him to the copse of oak trees at the fringe where she had observed Colvin at his swordplay more than once. She was tensed, ready to cry out if surprised by anyone else.
“Explain yourself,” Lia said, listening keenly for the sounds of others. She remembered how Colvin and Ellowyn had been lulled into a trap by Martin. She glanced around and searched the darkness for any sign of others.
“I am alone,” he said.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Kieran Evnissyen, though I am called Kieran Ven which means ‘night’ in the tongue of this land. I do most of my work after sundown. I am part of the Evnissyen. As are you.”
Lia walked in a half-circle around him, forcing him to turn to keep her in view. “What is that name? Is it a Family name?”
“It was, long ago. But those abandoned by their parents use it now. We are the protectors of the royal family. Advisors to the nobles of Pry-Ree.”
“Their abductors as well, it would seem,” Lia said. “This is not your first journey to this land.”
“I confess it. I know that our Aldermaston sent Ellowyn to Dochte Abbey. It was clearly the Medium’s will. We did not oppose it. Now it bids us rescue her from that den of snakes…and hetaera.”
Lia gasped as he said the word.
“I know you are a maston,” he said with a nod of approval. “As am I. Unusual for Evnissyen, but not unheard of. Which brings me to the answer you were seeking at the first. I arrived at nightfall, crossing the Apse Veil from Tintern. The way to Dochte was sealed. I could not pass. So I was sent here. My mission is to join Martin in Dahomey. I was told you would come with me willingly.” He cocked his head. “Or should I fetch a rope?”
“Martin?” Lia gasped. She stopped circling the enigmatic man and rushed him, gripping his sleeve. He reacted defensively, but let her seize him.
Another smirk. “He felled the Fear Liath, girl. We were trying to join you. To aid you in your mission. We lost two to that beast, but Martin finished the kill and rid the mountain of that demon. He booked passage on a ship from Bridgestow and left before you even made it back to this forsaken country. You have the Prince’s orb. You will lead me to Martin. We leave at dawn.”
Lia stared at him in surprise and chafed at his presumption. “I serve the Aldermaston of Muirwood, not Tintern. I must seek…”
“Permission? You are such a child. I have been an Evnissyen since my birth. How old are you? Seventeen? I have twice as many years behind me. I have been to Dahomey many times. I know the road to the island Abbey. I know the woods full of stones and flooded with boulders. I know the port of call, Vezins. But Martin insisted that I bring you with me. So I must insist that you come along whether the old man wills it or no. I am not normally this polite.”
This is polite? she thought darkly. “Why do you come now?” Lia said, challenging him.
His eyes were dark, brooding. “Because we cannot wait any longer. Whitsunday is past. The apples are harvesting and will be mashed into cider. The cider will be drunk at the winter celebration. The winter celebration is when the Blight will come. It will strike at Twelfth Night, the beginning of winter. We must be on the ships before the winter storms arrive and prevent us from sailing. The plague stirs from Dochte Abbey on Twelfth Night.”
As he spoke, an image bloomed in Lia’s mind. A Leering stone carved into a circle made of entwining serpents. As she looked at it, it began to glow with fire.
Lia blinked and the vision was gone. She stared at Kieran Ven coldly. “Before I go anywhere, I must speak with the Aldermaston.”