The Scourge of Muirwood
Page 92
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“Maderos, please!”
His expression was as solemn as stone. “I will not influence you, child. I will not give you the answer you seek. It is your choice.” He gestured towards the shroud. “This is a Veil. An Apse Veil. There are only two Abbeys standing still. You must choose where to go. Both choices have consequences. But I cannot choose for you. It is yours to make.”
Lia stared at the Apse Veil in agony. She knew that Muirwood was threatened. She could feel it deep in her bones. She longed to go back there, even knowing that the Queen Dowager was there. Yet there was also the Abbey at Billerbeck. There was Colvin and Hillel. If she went there first, could she warn Colvin in time and then travel to Muirwood? Was there time to do both?
Maderos’ eyes were fixed on hers.
Colvin thought she was dead. Hillel believed she was dead. Was it already too late to save him? Had he, by error, bound himself to Hillel by irrevocare sigil? Even if he had unwittingly bound himself to the wrong person, would it matter? Was it the name that mattered or the person he had clasped hands with? Would he kiss her, believing her to be his wife, and receive the curse of the Blight as a result?
It was pure agony. Was she already too late?
She could not know the answer to that. In the end, it did not matter. As much as she wanted to save Colvin, it was her duty to save Muirwood. Even though the thought of losing Colvin forever tortured her, she knew she had to do her duty. She could not force the Medium to do her will. She could only submit herself to the Medium’s will.
Tears had pooled again in her eyes, but she brushed them away harshly. “I will obey,” she whispered. She gripped Maderos by the arm. “If I understood the Aldermaston of Tintern properly, once I go to Muirwood, I will not be allowed to leave. I must remain there and help direct others to the safe haven. The Blight will afflict slowly at first. Then it will increase, faster and faster, as more fall to the curse.”
In her mind, she remembered the stories about the maypole dance in Dahomey, how Pareigis had taught the youth to be bound to the pole and then steal kisses when the boys were free. She shuddered, realizing how quickly the traditions would cause the fall.
Maderos eyed her somberly. His cheek muscle twitched.
Lia swallowed and nodded, firming her resolve and her courage. Then with a glint of determination in her eye, she approached the Apse Veil and passed through it to Muirwood.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE:
The Prince’s Death
Prince Alluwyn Lleu-Iselin stroked the baby’s cheek with his finger. Tears welled in his eyes and blurred the image of the child, his daughter. She was asleep, her little mouth puckered and at rest. Little tufts of golden hair crowned her fragile head. Bending low over the basket, he kissed those curls.
“Hold it steady,” he asked. The Evnissyen’s name was Nuric. He was young but he had proven himself trustworthy. He was fluent in three languages and looked like someone from Comoros with his straight dark hair. He would blend in better than the fair-haired Pry-rians. Nuric clenched the basket to his chest and held it still as the Prince placed two fingers on the babe’s head. “Close your eyes, Nuric.”
He obeyed and the Prince made the maston sign.
“I cannot speak your name, child. My tome is sealed. I cannot claim you as kin in words, but my heart is full. From this moment, you are a wretched. I Gift you that you may accomplish the work the Medium plans for you. This little hand, this tiny little hand will change the world. It will destroy. It will also build. You are dear to me, little one. I face my fate with courage that you may face yours. I Gift you with courage. I Gift you with faith. You will be strong in the Medium, child. Stronger than I. Until we rejoin at that day to come in Idumea, I give you all that I have and all that I am. My life for yours, dearest one. I die that you may live. Be it thus so.”
As the Prince lowered his hand, he saw wetness in Nuric’s eyes. The Medium was strong in the room. The Prince had not felt it very much of late. His heart was heavy with sorrow at the death of Elle and the devastation throughout Pry-Ree. Reaching out, he clasped Nuric’s shoulder. “Guard her, Nuric. Bear her safely to Muirwood.”
“I do not know the way,” he whispered hoarsely. “But I will find it.”
The Prince opened the pouch dangling from his belt and withdrew the Cruciger orb. “The Abbey is surrounded by marshland. It is desolate country, but it has its own beauty. When you are lost, and you will be, put the babe’s hand on the orb and the spindles will point the way for you.”
Nuric nodded and watched as the Prince tucked the orb within the blankets in the basket. Afterwards, he clenched the rim of the basket.
His expression was as solemn as stone. “I will not influence you, child. I will not give you the answer you seek. It is your choice.” He gestured towards the shroud. “This is a Veil. An Apse Veil. There are only two Abbeys standing still. You must choose where to go. Both choices have consequences. But I cannot choose for you. It is yours to make.”
Lia stared at the Apse Veil in agony. She knew that Muirwood was threatened. She could feel it deep in her bones. She longed to go back there, even knowing that the Queen Dowager was there. Yet there was also the Abbey at Billerbeck. There was Colvin and Hillel. If she went there first, could she warn Colvin in time and then travel to Muirwood? Was there time to do both?
Maderos’ eyes were fixed on hers.
Colvin thought she was dead. Hillel believed she was dead. Was it already too late to save him? Had he, by error, bound himself to Hillel by irrevocare sigil? Even if he had unwittingly bound himself to the wrong person, would it matter? Was it the name that mattered or the person he had clasped hands with? Would he kiss her, believing her to be his wife, and receive the curse of the Blight as a result?
It was pure agony. Was she already too late?
She could not know the answer to that. In the end, it did not matter. As much as she wanted to save Colvin, it was her duty to save Muirwood. Even though the thought of losing Colvin forever tortured her, she knew she had to do her duty. She could not force the Medium to do her will. She could only submit herself to the Medium’s will.
Tears had pooled again in her eyes, but she brushed them away harshly. “I will obey,” she whispered. She gripped Maderos by the arm. “If I understood the Aldermaston of Tintern properly, once I go to Muirwood, I will not be allowed to leave. I must remain there and help direct others to the safe haven. The Blight will afflict slowly at first. Then it will increase, faster and faster, as more fall to the curse.”
In her mind, she remembered the stories about the maypole dance in Dahomey, how Pareigis had taught the youth to be bound to the pole and then steal kisses when the boys were free. She shuddered, realizing how quickly the traditions would cause the fall.
Maderos eyed her somberly. His cheek muscle twitched.
Lia swallowed and nodded, firming her resolve and her courage. Then with a glint of determination in her eye, she approached the Apse Veil and passed through it to Muirwood.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE:
The Prince’s Death
Prince Alluwyn Lleu-Iselin stroked the baby’s cheek with his finger. Tears welled in his eyes and blurred the image of the child, his daughter. She was asleep, her little mouth puckered and at rest. Little tufts of golden hair crowned her fragile head. Bending low over the basket, he kissed those curls.
“Hold it steady,” he asked. The Evnissyen’s name was Nuric. He was young but he had proven himself trustworthy. He was fluent in three languages and looked like someone from Comoros with his straight dark hair. He would blend in better than the fair-haired Pry-rians. Nuric clenched the basket to his chest and held it still as the Prince placed two fingers on the babe’s head. “Close your eyes, Nuric.”
He obeyed and the Prince made the maston sign.
“I cannot speak your name, child. My tome is sealed. I cannot claim you as kin in words, but my heart is full. From this moment, you are a wretched. I Gift you that you may accomplish the work the Medium plans for you. This little hand, this tiny little hand will change the world. It will destroy. It will also build. You are dear to me, little one. I face my fate with courage that you may face yours. I Gift you with courage. I Gift you with faith. You will be strong in the Medium, child. Stronger than I. Until we rejoin at that day to come in Idumea, I give you all that I have and all that I am. My life for yours, dearest one. I die that you may live. Be it thus so.”
As the Prince lowered his hand, he saw wetness in Nuric’s eyes. The Medium was strong in the room. The Prince had not felt it very much of late. His heart was heavy with sorrow at the death of Elle and the devastation throughout Pry-Ree. Reaching out, he clasped Nuric’s shoulder. “Guard her, Nuric. Bear her safely to Muirwood.”
“I do not know the way,” he whispered hoarsely. “But I will find it.”
The Prince opened the pouch dangling from his belt and withdrew the Cruciger orb. “The Abbey is surrounded by marshland. It is desolate country, but it has its own beauty. When you are lost, and you will be, put the babe’s hand on the orb and the spindles will point the way for you.”
Nuric nodded and watched as the Prince tucked the orb within the blankets in the basket. Afterwards, he clenched the rim of the basket.
