The Scourge of Muirwood
Page 95
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Her heart panged with terror.
“Lia!”
As she approached, she saw a circle of individuals, kneeling and clasping each others hands, binding themselves together in a ring as they awaited their fate – death by fire or when the walls came down and crushed them.
“It is Lia!”
She came from the smoke fog and beheld faces that she had longed to see. Faces she had treasured and loved. Faces she would never forget. There was Sowe and Edmon, hand in hand, fingers tight and clenching, knuckles white. Marciana and Kieran Ven clutching each other as well as Pasqua and Prestwich. She knew the faces – Brynn, Siler, the children, all clustered together, holding each other’s hands – waiting for their fate. She recognized others, but her heart was too full and tears stung her eyes along with the acrid smoke. She did not see the Aldermaston among them.
“Where is the Aldermaston?” she begged as she approached, embracing Sowe after she surged to her feet and hugged her so tight it made both sob.
Sowe’s eyes were wet. “They bound him in ropes. They said…they said they would take him to the Tor to watch Muirwood burn. The Queen Dowager will kill him there.”
Lia nodded, her heart aching with pain. She was ferociously angry and knew she had to move quickly.
“Lia!” Marciana said, grasping her in another tight hug. Her face was joyous but alarmed. “Where is he? Where is Colvin?”
A chunk of burning stone whistled and crashed against the tiles, exploding with a shower of sparks and hissing flame. Everyone flinched.
“Everyone, come with me!” Lia shouted. “Bring nothing with you.”
“They have barricaded all the doors, child,” Prestwich said. “There is no way out.”
“There is,” Lia said. “Everyone, follow me!”
Another hissing rock landed nearby, another shower of sparks. Lia realized the flames would consume the Abbey in moments. Drawing deep within herself, she willed the fires to stop.
I am the Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey, obey me! she ordered, shoving the thoughts with all her might. The flames resisted her authority, roaring in defiance as they licked up the stones and consumed them. She shoved the thought again, commanding the fires to be tamed. Again, they resisted. She pressed harder with her mind as she ran to the corridor heading down to the lower chamber where she had received the first maston rites. She waved at the others to follow her. Down the steps they herded.
Obey me!
The fires began to give way, not losing their strength but she felt the Abbey resisting the spread of the flames, holding it back from consuming everything.
“Scream,” she said. “Make them believe you are dying. Make them believe we perish in the flames.”
It did not take persuasion. Everyone was terrified already. A piercing chorus of fright rose from the throat of the Abbey. In her mind she had seen the future when she had taken the hetaera test. She had seen Muirwood burning and heard the screams.
“Scream!” she said, adding hers to the noise. Down the stairwell she marched until it opened to the long room full of polished wooden benches. At the head of the room was the main altar. She remembered going there with the Cruciger orb, seeking Colvin at the Pilgrim Inn. The thought of Colvin succumbing to Hillel nearly overwhelmed her concentration with sickening feelings that would have made her go mad. She blasted the thoughts aside, focusing on the matter at hand. If she hurried and saved them, she could go to the Tor and rescue the Aldermaston. She had no weapons, but she experienced the rush and thrill of the Medium, strengthening her. Crossing the center aisle, she reached the small antechamber at the side and hefted on the stone slab on the floor. It raised with ease, showing the hidden entrance to the tunnels beneath.
“Kieran Ven!” she said, turning suddenly and realizing that the last time she had seen him, he was unable to walk. There he was, striding boldly with Marciana still clutching his hand. “You lead them. There are lamps and flint to light them at the bottom of the shaft. They should be trim with oil. Take the tunnel on the right, it will lead you to the woods beyond the Abbey grounds. Go down, all of you!”
Marciana was very close to him, her hand did not leave his, as if he were a possession. Her hunter eyes had noticed it, but she could not remark on it yet. There was not time.
“How far to the woods?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern. “How deep the passage?”
“It is not far. A maston word will open the portal. You may have to dig your way out if the Dowager’s folk buried it.” Lia grabbed his shoulder. “Take them to Tintern if I do not come for you,” she whispered.
“Lia!”
As she approached, she saw a circle of individuals, kneeling and clasping each others hands, binding themselves together in a ring as they awaited their fate – death by fire or when the walls came down and crushed them.
“It is Lia!”
She came from the smoke fog and beheld faces that she had longed to see. Faces she had treasured and loved. Faces she would never forget. There was Sowe and Edmon, hand in hand, fingers tight and clenching, knuckles white. Marciana and Kieran Ven clutching each other as well as Pasqua and Prestwich. She knew the faces – Brynn, Siler, the children, all clustered together, holding each other’s hands – waiting for their fate. She recognized others, but her heart was too full and tears stung her eyes along with the acrid smoke. She did not see the Aldermaston among them.
“Where is the Aldermaston?” she begged as she approached, embracing Sowe after she surged to her feet and hugged her so tight it made both sob.
Sowe’s eyes were wet. “They bound him in ropes. They said…they said they would take him to the Tor to watch Muirwood burn. The Queen Dowager will kill him there.”
Lia nodded, her heart aching with pain. She was ferociously angry and knew she had to move quickly.
“Lia!” Marciana said, grasping her in another tight hug. Her face was joyous but alarmed. “Where is he? Where is Colvin?”
A chunk of burning stone whistled and crashed against the tiles, exploding with a shower of sparks and hissing flame. Everyone flinched.
“Everyone, come with me!” Lia shouted. “Bring nothing with you.”
“They have barricaded all the doors, child,” Prestwich said. “There is no way out.”
“There is,” Lia said. “Everyone, follow me!”
Another hissing rock landed nearby, another shower of sparks. Lia realized the flames would consume the Abbey in moments. Drawing deep within herself, she willed the fires to stop.
I am the Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey, obey me! she ordered, shoving the thoughts with all her might. The flames resisted her authority, roaring in defiance as they licked up the stones and consumed them. She shoved the thought again, commanding the fires to be tamed. Again, they resisted. She pressed harder with her mind as she ran to the corridor heading down to the lower chamber where she had received the first maston rites. She waved at the others to follow her. Down the steps they herded.
Obey me!
The fires began to give way, not losing their strength but she felt the Abbey resisting the spread of the flames, holding it back from consuming everything.
“Scream,” she said. “Make them believe you are dying. Make them believe we perish in the flames.”
It did not take persuasion. Everyone was terrified already. A piercing chorus of fright rose from the throat of the Abbey. In her mind she had seen the future when she had taken the hetaera test. She had seen Muirwood burning and heard the screams.
“Scream!” she said, adding hers to the noise. Down the stairwell she marched until it opened to the long room full of polished wooden benches. At the head of the room was the main altar. She remembered going there with the Cruciger orb, seeking Colvin at the Pilgrim Inn. The thought of Colvin succumbing to Hillel nearly overwhelmed her concentration with sickening feelings that would have made her go mad. She blasted the thoughts aside, focusing on the matter at hand. If she hurried and saved them, she could go to the Tor and rescue the Aldermaston. She had no weapons, but she experienced the rush and thrill of the Medium, strengthening her. Crossing the center aisle, she reached the small antechamber at the side and hefted on the stone slab on the floor. It raised with ease, showing the hidden entrance to the tunnels beneath.
“Kieran Ven!” she said, turning suddenly and realizing that the last time she had seen him, he was unable to walk. There he was, striding boldly with Marciana still clutching his hand. “You lead them. There are lamps and flint to light them at the bottom of the shaft. They should be trim with oil. Take the tunnel on the right, it will lead you to the woods beyond the Abbey grounds. Go down, all of you!”
Marciana was very close to him, her hand did not leave his, as if he were a possession. Her hunter eyes had noticed it, but she could not remark on it yet. There was not time.
“How far to the woods?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern. “How deep the passage?”
“It is not far. A maston word will open the portal. You may have to dig your way out if the Dowager’s folk buried it.” Lia grabbed his shoulder. “Take them to Tintern if I do not come for you,” she whispered.
