The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(56)
He stared at her, his eyes widening with shock. “How do you know that phrase?” he whispered.
Maia realized she had blundered, that she had quoted from a tome. Maia straightened her skirts. “I have always had a prodigious memory, Captain Carew,” she answered with a thick voice. “You should remember that.”
With the threat lingering in the air, she turned and walked away from him, feeling her cheeks flush with heat. As she emerged from the orchard, she saw Collier eyeing her closely, but he said nothing to her, looking a little bored.
Jon Tayt motioned for her to join him and Argus, which she did. His voice was low as they walked. “The captain did not look very pleased with you, lass. By Cheshu, I could almost hear the scolding you gave him from here. Keep walking. The Holk was sighted earlier today. We must go straight to the Aldermaston’s study. Your grandmother should be there by now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Simon Fox
Maia squeezed her grandmother and felt the embrace returned with equal vigor. Sabine smelled of salty sea and wood stain, and her hair was wild and windblown. She looked as if she had traveled a great distance.
“My dear one,” Sabine whispered, pulling away to cup Maia’s cheeks in her hands. She smiled at her with such tenderness it made the anxiety and ache of their separation even more poignant. This was Family. This was what she had craved.
“You were gone for so long,” Maia breathed. The Aldermaston and his wife smiled at them. Jon Tayt was there as well, off to the side talking to a younger man dressed in black with a felt cap that matched his clothes. The young man was stern, and he listened complacently as Jon Tayt prattled on.
“I am sorry, dear one,” Sabine said, taking Maia’s hands and squeezing them. “I have been at sea a great deal, giving directions to various Aldermastons to help them prepare for what is coming.” She sighed, wiped a few strands of hair from her eyes, and shook her head. “My son-in-law is making things rather difficult.”
“Where have you been?” Maia asked, drawing her over to some stuffed chairs in the corner of the room.
“Pry-Ree, Hautland, Dahomey. Other places as well.” She patted Maia’s hand. “I most recently visited Dahomey to seek King Gideon, only to discover that he had changed ships immediately to come to Comoros.”
“Then you have heard?” Maia asked, staring into her eyes.
“I have heard a great many things,” Sabine answered. She gestured for the others to draw near. As the young man dressed in black left the shadows, Maia saw that his velvet tunic was actually a very deep burgundy color, so dark it had appeared black. It was expensive and exquisitely styled, with ribbed sleeves that were black, and gold fringes at the sleeves and collar. Though he was a young man, he had a wispy forked beard paired with mild brown eyes that held a contemplative expression. He looked to be only a few years older than Maia.
“This is Simon Fox,” Sabine said. She rose and walked over to the young man, then bowed her head slightly to him.
“Greetings,” he said as he bowed in return, his accent distinctly Dahomeyjan. “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”
Sabine touched his sleeve and then gestured toward him with her other hand. “Simon is part of the Victus.”
Maia’s eyebrows lifted and a worried feeling bloomed in her stomach.
“He is also one of the spymasters of King Gideon of Dahomey. He was trained and mentored by Chancellor Walraven personally. There are some among the Victus who cannot condone the planned murder of the mastons in Assinica. Like Walraven, Simon risks his life to aid us with information. He has come here to speak with his master at Whitsunday, but I wanted to introduce you all to him first, so you would know where his loyalties truly lie. To the world at large, he is known as a wine and cider merchant whose Family is responsible for shipping barrels throughout the kingdoms. He has contacts within most of the noble Families, knows ship captains of every allegiance, and receives messages from all the kingdoms with surprising regularity. His most recent assignment was serving under Corriveaux in Dahomey, and he has since been reassigned, through Walraven’s influence, to the Court of Comoros to spy on Maia’s father. What he learns he will tell the Victus, King Gideon, and us.”
Maia stared at him with distrust as she rose from her seat, her mouth pursed.
Sabine took a moment to gaze at each of them. “I wanted to introduce you to Simon personally. I trust him, and his information has proved timely and invaluable. He has already assisted me in one very urgent matter. He has studied the maston ways and lore and, along with others in his situation, feels that the order of the Dochte Mandar is corrupt and is bringing harm to the people. Show them your kystrel, Simon.”
The man sighed and quickly undid the buttons on his tunic front and collar, opening the material of his shirt. He was of slight build, the tunic giving him a deceptively broader girth. The sight of the chain around his neck and the whorl-like tattoo on his skin made Maia sick inside.
“Show them,” Sabine insisted.
“As you may know, the kystrels were forged in the past,” Simon said, his voice slightly accented. “They were handed down from hetaera to slave. In the Dochte Mandar tradition they are believed to allow us to commune with the spirits of the dead. In truth, they commune with the Unborn, the Myriad Ones. This is not a kystrel, but a replica. There are missing segments of the pattern, here and here,” he said, pointing to the markings. “This was crafted to look as if it were of ancient origin, but in truth it was created by a clever metalsmith whom I hired to perform the work. The shadowstain you see on my chest . . .” He dabbed his tongue with his finger and then rubbed at the stain. Part of it came away and left a blot of ink on the young man’s finger. He held it up to them. “It is ink, not a tattoo.”