The Banished of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood, #1)(51)



She heard Argus barking and saw a man wrestling with the boarhound, who had been fitted with a collar and a leather leash.

“Let them go,” Maia pleaded, wringing her hands.

Jon Tayt’s head whipped around, his eyes bulging with fear until he saw her. He smiled, though his expression looked more like a grimace. Then he looked at Collier, his eyes showing first confusion and then sudden understanding.

“Ach,” he muttered. “Now that is a surprise.”

Maia started to approach, but Collier grabbed her arm, preventing her. “Not too close,” he urged her. “Give the order.”

“Release them,” Maia said in a voice of command. “Set them free.”

The guards stared at her in surprise, then glanced at Collier for his orders.

“You heard my lady,” he said with a curt nod.

Jon Tayt’s eyes glowered. A dark look came over his face as several soldiers approached and loosened his bonds.

“Bring his dog,” Maia said, motioning to the soldier who still struggled with Argus.

As Jon Tayt struggled to his feet, the boarhound charged him and began licking him with a frenzy. The hunter whistled for Argus to heel and stared at Maia in shock. “By Cheshu, what have you done, lass?” he asked in Pry-rian.

Maia felt her heart aching, but she could not reveal her plan. Not in front of everyone. She answered in Pry-rian, “I release you from my service. May we meet again someday in Pry-Ree, in the mountains where men fear to tread.”

Collier gave her an angry look. “No more chat,” he said waspishly. “That is enough.”

“I released him from my service,” Maia replied, her expression equally dark. “He is Pry-rian, so I did it—”

“Yes, yes, be done with it. Take this letter,” he said, handing it to the hunter. “It bears my seal. You have a fortnight to quit the realm, Tayt. Return to Pry-Ree or Paeiz or wherever you choose. But if you set foot in my domain again, you will hang. As for you.” He turned his angry gaze to the kishion. “All my instincts tell me that you will be nothing but a problem for me later, and I should end your life tonight. I will not have you roaming my kingdom freely. Captain, take him to Calis and put him on a boat. I do not care where. Make sure he is not unbound until after you have deposited him on a ship and it has weighed anchor and left. If he attempts to flee, stab him in the ribs and spill his guts.” He clenched his teeth. “If you come near my lady again, I will kill you myself.”

The kishion’s eyes were hard and violent. He nodded once and said nothing, but his scarred cheek twitched.

“Send him away. Tayt—have some ale before you depart if you wish. But you must leave my camp before midnight. My lady wishes to spare you the noose, and so I obey her will.”

“Maia,” Jon Tayt said, his voice low and purposeful and full of warning.

“All is well, Jon Tayt,” she said, looking at him fiercely. “Do as I bid you this one last time.”

Argus seemed to sense something. He padded up to her and she lowered to caress his fur, getting a wet lick on her cheek for her efforts. It made her smile, and her throat closed with emotion. “Keep him safe,” she whispered to the boarhound.

Jon Tayt stood there, perplexed and obviously uncomfortable. “Well, Your Grace, thank you for not executing me, but I will not linger. Argus, come.”

The boarhound nuzzled Maia one last time and then trotted to catch up with Jon Tayt as he started to walk away. The hunter paused and turned, thought better of what he was about to say, and then disappeared into the smoke. The Myriad Ones mewled with frustration at having lost their kill for the evening.

Maia watched as the captain who had brought her to the tent arranged for the kishion’s banishment. His arms were still bound, his wrists tied behind his back, and she watched as he was helped onto a horse. His head hung low in defeat as someone took the reins for him, but she could see the defiance in his posture. He glanced back at her once, his eyes full of enmity. He then looked back and rode into the dark with the riders.

Maia felt a jolt of relief that she had managed to save both of her protectors, but she felt the loss of the kishion especially, since she was unlikely to see him again. They had been through so much together, and without him, she would have never survived this long. Better for him to be exiled than slain, but she would miss his companionship. Now she needed to buy some time and delay Collier’s plan. She hoped Jon Tayt was wise enough to realize that she had been telling him where to meet her again. The mountain pass guarded by the Fear Liath—the one they had planned to use for their escape. If she could get her kystrel back, she would leave for the pass immediately.

Maia and Collier returned to the pavilion, walking side by side. As they moved through the camp, she took note of details she had missed on her first whirlwind tour. The clank of pans and smell of sizzling meat filled the air. Fires crackled and the smoke shifted with the winds. She saw nobles dressed in finery mixing together, their garb more like their king’s. The common soldiers had stacked their breastplates and helmets near their fires, where the armor glimmered in the light. Stands of pikes stood at various positions throughout the camp.

Maia looked at the Leerings as she passed them, studying the design. They looked as if they had been taken from the ruins of an abbey, which cohered with what Collier had told her. The interior of the tent smelled soothing, and Maia suddenly realized she was starving. In their absence, trays of meat and vessels of melted cheese and broth had been arranged around one of the fur rugs.

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