The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(69)

Maia bit her lip, still whirling from the mercurial shifts of his mood. “What will you tell my father?” she persisted.

“That our marriage has already happened,” he stated, nodding to her. “I will probably have to summon the witnesses, and it may decrease the number of earldoms I had hoped to achieve from this visit. He will pay me less than what I deserve. But in the end, he needs an alliance with Dahomey. Brannon cannot survive the armada when it arrives. He needs me and he knows it.” He glanced back at Suzenne. “What do you require to join Maia in Dahomey, loyal friend that you are? I understand you may be . . . engaged?”

Suzenne looked down at her lap confusedly, and then back up at Collier. “I am, my lord.”

“Yes, to Dodleah Price. The landless son of Forshee.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “He would be welcome in my service, my lady. I could possibly . . . arrange”—he shrugged and frowned—“for lands and titles in Dahomey? If my lady so wishes it?” He winked at Maia, obviously relishing the role of benefactor.

Maia gasped, turning to Suzenne, and saw tears glittering in the young woman’s lashes. “Truly, my lord?”

Collier nodded. “Call for Dodd. Let us see how he feels about the matter. Jon Tayt speaks highly of him, and I respect his opinion.”

“I will at once!” Suzenne declared, flushing and beaming, and raced out of the room.

A knot had developed inside Maia’s chest, a weight that sat heavily. “I cannot possibly go with you to Dahomey,” she uttered softly.

His brow wrinkled. “Why ever not?” he asked. He sat down at the edge of her seat, forcing her to make room and bewildering her senses with his nearness. He reached out casually and tucked a wavy lock of dark hair behind her ear. His finger set off a shiver that traveled from neck to spine. Maia struggled to gather her wits and explain.

“I must face the maston test, as I wrote in my letter.”

“There are plenty of abbeys in Dahomey,” he reminded her. “In the past, the princes and princesses of the realms would come to Dochte Abbey to study. Take the maston test in my country, or any country you choose except for this one.”

Maia shook her head. “It must be Muirwood.”

He remained genuinely perplexed. “But why?”

She stared down at her hands but firmed her resolve and looked into his eyes, even though the depth of their color made it hard to stare at him. “There is a covenant that has been passed down in my Family. A covenant to restore Muirwood Abbey.”

“The abbey is built,” he said, confused. “It is small compared to some I have seen, but it is beautiful and functional. Deorwynn’s uncle is to be the new Aldermaston, I understand. Kranmir.”

Maia shook her in frustration. “Kranmir has no authority to be the new Aldermaston!”

Collier shrugged. “True, but it is all politics anyway. The politics of Aldermastons is little different from that of the Dochte Mandar.”

“It is more than that! You must understand this. The full rites of the mastons have not been restored. You did not complete the maston test yourself, so you do not know of it, but the Apse Veil must still be reopened. In the past, mastons could travel between abbeys by using the Apse Veil. Now they cannot, and the dead are stuck in this realm.”

A look of sardonic doubt shadowed his face, but he said nothing.

“You do not believe me,” she said.

“Please finish,” he said, nodding to her to go on. “I do not argue about the High Seer’s authority to name her own people. The Dochte Mandar do the same. I just do not believe in Idumea and the dead needing to go there. The Apse Veil being closed means nothing to me.”

“But it is true! No one has crossed the Apse Veil in a hundred years. I know the beliefs of the Dochte Mandar. Walraven taught them to me. They believe they can commune with the dead and the dead are born again. That is a lie. Those who have died yearn to return to Idumea, but they are trapped here. Lia entrusted her posterity with restoring the rites at Muirwood. This will include the ability to cross between abbeys as well as the rites for the dead. My grandmother is the High Seer, and she is not powerful enough in the Medium to open the Apse Veil herself. The Medium has specifically given the burden to me.”

Collier sighed, nodding with a satisfied smile. “I see.”

“I do not think you do.”

“So these secret rites must be performed. Mastons can then travel hither and yon. Some visiting Idumea. Well, how wonderful Lia left that for you to do. No wonder you came here instead of Pry-Ree. It took a while for you to be discovered.” He tapped his mouth thoughtfully, then gave her that maddeningly handsome smirk of his. “So let me understand the implications of this situation. Your father is coming to throw down the authority of the Aldermastons . . . here, at Muirwood. Your grandmother has come to defy him. Did she bring, say, an army with her?”

“No,” Maia replied, her stomach churning.

“I thought not. I have been out with Captain Carew, and he has been exploring the defenses of the abbey. They are . . . how shall I put this . . . rather frail. Anyone can walk in or out, Maia. The Leerings are just stones. Some are imbued with power, I grant you, but they obey not just the mastons. How can your grandmother prevent Brannon from seizing Muirwood and throwing out Aldermaston Syon? You may not realize this, but your father plans to perform the investment ceremony himself, making himself in control of the maston order in Comoros. All the revenue the abbeys produce will be confiscated by the Crown. Undoubtedly, Brannon covets the wealth and power of the abbeys for himself, since he has already taken Augustin’s treasure, with Kranmir’s blessing, no less. And . . . might I add . . . no Medium intervened at Augustin.” He raised his eyebrows challengingly.