The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(40)

“I hope it does not come to that,” Suzenne said worriedly. “Comoros has a nasty heritage of civil war. Why must we feud so?”

Dodd sniffed. “You know very well, my love. You cannot rule a kingdom through fear alone. When people stop being afraid, they become angry. I am grateful I did not pursue my revenge, but though patience is a virtue, it is not a satisfying one.”

“Is that so?” Suzenne said in a playful tone, swinging around and grabbing his hands, looking up at him. “Whitsunday will be here soon. Will not your patience be rewarded then?”

He smiled and leaned down, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I am wrong, as usual. It will be well worth the torture of delay. Do you fear the maston test? Either of you?” He glanced at Maia as well.

Suzenne shook her head. “My parents have always told me it is nothing to fear. There are Leerings that cause that emotion, but they can be silenced. Taking the maston test is more a test of commitment than anything else. I am quite ready to take the oaths.”

Dodd looked back at Maia.

“Compared with what I have seen and done in my life,” Maia said with pursed lips, “it holds no terror for me either. I have met with the Aldermaston these many months, and together, we have examined the life I once led.” Dodd had no idea that she had once worn a kystrel. He looked at her gravely, but there was sympathy in his gaze as well. “I am more than ready to commit myself to the Medium’s will,” she added. “I always have been.”

Dodd nodded in approval. “Some people think it is a surrender of a bitter kind. That it is restricting to constantly stifle your thoughts and bridle your passions. My father explained it to me differently, through a story about his ancestor Colvin Price, who had a great love of horses and a deep respect for the dangers of the Bearden Muir. When he and Lia were wandering the swamp together, the Cruciger orb led them to the safest paths. When they lost the power of the orb, they wandered aimlessly. Some people demand the freedom to stumble into ditches. I prefer following a guide to the safest road, even if it is through a swamp.”

Suzenne and Maia nodded in agreement. Their sojourn in the trees was interrupted when Owen hurried toward them. His cheeks were flushed, and it was clear he had been looking for them for some time.

“What news, Owen?” Maia asked.

The page bowed meekly. “The Aldermaston bids me tell you that the lord chancellor just arrived. He is staying at the Pilgrim Inn outside the grounds, but will dine with the Aldermaston tonight.”

“That is news,” Dodd said. “Chancellor Crabwell?”

“Aye,” said Owen. “I did not see him myself, but his retinue took control of the inn when they arrived, and many a man saw him enter.”

Suzenne looked to Maia in concern. “What could he be doing here? I would not have expected him to arrive for another month, or maybe a fortnight before Whitsunday. Do you know him, Maia?”

“Yes,” Maia said, her stomach churning with nervousness. “He would recognize me.”

“That is what the Aldermaston thinks as well,” Owen said. “He suggested you stay away from the manor. The sheriff of Mendenhall has been snooping as well.”

Maia and Suzenne looked at each other. “Jon Tayt’s lodge?” they both said at once.

“A good plan,” Dodd said. “Stay away from the manor for now, even the kitchen. I will warn Jon Tayt you are coming to the lodge. If you cannot go there safely, I will come warn you.” He squeezed Suzenne’s hand and then departed the Cider Orchard.

Owen bowed his hat to them and left as well.

“How well do you know Chancellor Crabwell?” Suzenne asked, linking arms with Maia as they started to walk toward the hunter’s lodge on the outskirts of the abbey.

“He replaced Tomas Morton as chancellor before the man was executed. He is loyal to my father. He may be here to see what sort of resistance the king can expect from the Aldermaston.”

Suzenne shuddered. “Do you think your father would murder an Aldermaston?”

It was so painful to consider the man her father had become. His ruthlessness as a king was apparent and reviled. And what he had done to her and her mother was deplorable. She still had memories, though, memories of the time before the stillbirths, when they were a real family. A slender part of her hoped against hope that he would remember himself, that he would forsake the monster he had become.

“I hope not,” she murmured softly, unable to see the beauty of the blossoms any longer.



Jon Tayt’s lodge was not the proper lodging for a princess or her companion. There were axes and long knives set in racks on the wall. There were torches, coils of rope, snow shoes, blankets, kegs, longbows, arrows in abundance, at least four pairs of rugged boots, pots of all sizes, wooden spoons and ladles, and an assortment of forks, paring knives, and animal skins. There were no chairs to sit on, but enough barrels of varying sizes to be used as substitute seating. There was a hearth, naturally, which was well stocked with wood that Dodd had helped split and stack during the winter, and Jon Tayt had arranged the stones to encourage the fire to provide more heat than was necessary, making the lodge quite stifling.

They ate meat from small pans, enjoying the sumptuous fare. Jon Tayt rattled on incessantly about the virtues of ovens versus stoves, and the heat and food and constant talking combined to make Maia a little drowsy.