The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(19)



Celia was completely flustered. “Well . . . for certain . . . I see . . .”

“Yes, that is our destination,” Maia said, returning his smile. “Thank you.”

He walked for several steps without saying anything further, but he did interrupt the silence eventually. “You are Lady Maia.”

“I am,” Maia replied. “You are Dodleah Price.”

“Call me Dodd,” he said in an offhand manner. “I have often seen you wander the grounds, but I had then failed to summon the courage to speak with you.”

Maia felt a little startled. She glanced at Celia, who had flushed a shade of pink.

“Is that so? Why should you fear to speak to me? We are cousins to degree, after all.”

“Notwithstanding, I was afraid you would think it an impertinence,” he answered. “Since we have not been introduced. You knew my father, but we have never met.”

“There is no need to be so formal, Dodd.” She looked him in the eyes so he could read her earnestness. “Do you wish to ask me something? I will not take offense.”

He smiled, looking relieved. “Thank you. That does lessen my anxiety. I am normally quite forthright and I like to say what I feel.” He frowned, as if swallowing something quite bitter. “A habit of my Family, I fear. Do you think your father will execute my Family if they do not sign the act?”

The question struck her in the pit of her stomach. She flushed with shame. “I do not know,” she answered truthfully. “I hate to cause you further pain, but you must understand . . . I do not know my father very well anymore.”

“I see,” he said, grinding his teeth. “Thank you for being truthful.” He sighed, apparently wrestling with himself.

“I hope he will not,” Maia continued earnestly, feeling a sharp pang for him. Celia continued to walk alongside them, listening, although she had been struck silent at the approach of the young man.

“I have been chafing here,” he said, staring off into the mist as they walked. “Not knowing is the hardest torture. If they were all to be killed, I would prefer to die with them. Part of me says I am a coward for staying here.”

“You are not a coward,” Maia insisted. “My father is the coward for not being brave enough to hear the truth spoken by a trusted ally. But then do not the Aldermastons teach us that men are slow to believe anything that will hurt their feelings?”

“Quite true,” Dodd said with an aggrieved chuckle. “To hear you say that about your own father is a balm to my wound. Thank you. I feel a little better.”

Maia gave him an awkward smile. “I was there, Dodd. When your father shamed the king publicly. He said nothing more than what everyone felt but was too cowardly to put it into words. Once something is said, it cannot be unsaid, unfortunately. Even if it is true.”

“How right you are again,” Dodd said with a small chuckle. “You are meek and wise, Lady Maia.”

“Please, call me Maia,” she said, smiling. “So you were stalking the mint flowers waiting for a chance to talk to me?”

“And summoning my courage,” he admitted. “I am grateful that I did. I would have carried the basket regardless. Is . . . Suzenne your companion? Have I heard that correctly?”

“She is.”

He frowned at that, his look brooding once more. Celia risked a look at him, but she said nothing.

“Why do you scowl?” Maia asked, trying to keep her voice light.

He looked at her with a certain solemnity. If she had not known he had passed the maston test early, she would have guessed he was a man grown already. “Because she abandons you each day,” he said with a reproving tone. “I had thought her better than that.”

“I gave her leave to see her friends,” Maia said, trying to defend her.

“One cannot give a person leave from doing his or her duty,” Dodd answered a bit sharply. “But then, perhaps I have my own reasons for judging her harshly. Thank you for speaking with me, Maia. I have wanted to approach you since you arrived, but felt it would be awkward for us both. I was wrong.”

It was as obvious as rain that he still harbored deep feelings for Suzenne. Maia could not help but lose respect for her for abandoning such a worthy man due to his ill fortune. She was a proud, pampered girl who had not faced many difficulties in her life. Maia had already noticed her strong tendency for perfection and propriety.

“Someone is coming,” Dodd said, slowing as they approached the manor house. Through the mist appeared a young lad, sprinting hard toward them. It was the Aldermaston’s page, a boy named Owen. He was a sturdy lad of about fourteen who looked as if he could have worked in the forge with the smiths.

“There,” he gasped, running up to them, panting. “Come with me, straightaway. Come quickly, ’fore you are seen! Celia, take the basket inside. I was sent to find you two,” he said, looking at Dodd and Maia. He glanced through the fog behind and around them. Celia looked worried and bit her lip, staring at the basket in Dodd’s arms.

“What is it, Owen?” Maia asked, her stomach twisting with concern.

“From Comoros,” he said, shaking his head. “Follow me, and I shall tell you all. Riders from the king. They just arrived, I tell you. The Aldermaston said they must leave their swords at the gate or they cannot enter.”

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