The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(70)

“I do not know what will happen,” Maia conceded, wincing. “But my grandmother plans to speak to him.”

He snorted impatiently. “Maia, see reason! Your sainted father has more ambition than . . . well, than me! It will take more than some holy scolding to change his mind. What is she going to do to stop him?”

Maia shook her head. “I do not know.”

“Maia.” He said her name in a gentler tone this time, laying his hand on her arm. “Sabine can do nothing to stop her son-in-law. Only force will convince Brannon . . . which is obviously not her intent.”

There was a soft knock on the door. Collier glanced up in irritation. The door opened to reveal Sabine and the Aldermaston’s wife. The High Seer nodded to the other woman, then entered alone.

Collier rose, his cheeks flushing. “I see the Family resemblance,” he said, nodding to her respectfully, but Maia could see the wariness in his eyes, in the subtle frown on his mouth. “Welcome, High Seer.”

“Welcome to Muirwood, Gideon,” she offered kindly, walking forward. “Word travels quickly in a small abbey. So you have acknowledged Maia as your wife?”

He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes, and bowed curtly. “I have. I was attempting to persuade her to accompany me back to Dahomey, but she claims there is unfinished business here at Muirwood. I hope to convince her that it is fruitless nonsense.”

Sabine approached and Maia saw that she was holding the Cruciger orb in her hand. Even from a distance, she could see the writing scrolling across the orb. She burned with curiosity to know what it said.

“Nonsense, indeed?” Sabine replied, her brow wrinkling with amusement. “If you knew what I knew, you would not think that.”

Collier looked uncomfortable. “I am sure you are privy to many of the Medium’s secrets,” he said guardedly. “I am not a maston myself.”

“You must become one,” Sabine said seriously.

Collier shook his head and chuckled. “I must do as I choose,” he replied, his voice hinting at displeasure.

“I know,” Sabine replied. She was standing very near him now. Her eyes were burning with a loving intensity. “And the Medium sent me here to persuade you to make the right choice.”

He cocked his eyebrow. “Did it now? Is this a warning? Have you come to threaten me, as your great-grandmother, Lia, once did my ancestor?”

Sabine was unflappable. She shook her head slowly. “No. Just to tell you a story. Lia had the Gift of Seering. She saw the future. She saw what would result from the Earl of Dieyre’s decisions. I know about your ambitions, Gideon. I know you desire to fulfill your ancestor’s destiny. But what did it gain him? He ruled an empire of bones and dust.” Her eyes narrowed. “I have seen it, Gideon. My Gift of Seering allows me to see the past. The future is a fog that I cannot pierce, and I have no more idea what will happen tomorrow than you do. But I have seen your ancestor. Dieyre walked in misery, alone at the end of his days. When he first met the Naestors, his eyes flooded with hunger; he was desperate to speak to another soul, even though they could not understand one another. If he had believed in Lia’s warning before it was too late, he would have chosen to exile himself with the mastons. He would have had a very different end.”

Collier stared at her with distrust. But he did not speak.

Sabine held up the Cruciger orb. “Do you know what this is?”

“I do,” he replied. “They are very rare. The Dochte Mandar have some in their collection, though they cannot work them.”

“Quite right. This orb was given to me. Lia was my great-grandmother, and she passed on the Cruciger orb to her daughters, who were chosen to be Aldermastons and High Seers. The orb’s purpose is to help the one who wields it find the true path. To find what has been lost. I have never regretted my Gift of Seering, even though I cannot see the future. Indeed, I have found it more useful to see and learn from the patterns of the past. There have always been corrupt kings. There have always been those who would persecute the mastons. Let me tell you of one.”

Collier breathed out through his nose impatiently, as if he were about to receive a lecture, but he did not leave. He stood silently, gravely, his eyes determined not to believe.

Sabine lifted the orb higher. “During the time of Lia’s life, there was a corrupt king ruling Comoros. His wife died, and he later married a daughter of Dahomey, Pareigis. Under her influence, he taught his followers, those most loyal to him, to murder the mastons. Many died, their innocent blood shed. Eventually, a maston rose against him—the son of an earl who was slain. Garen Demont. My ancestor.”

Collier nodded, familiar with the story. “Yes, the king was himself slain at the field of Winterrowd. I do not use the word murdered, as some do, because I was taught it was the Medium’s will that he died. How convenient.”

Sabine smiled at him, her eyes narrowing. “The story I must tell you is about that king’s father.”

Collier frowned.

“Not many know of him. He is a forgotten king, in many ways. His name was Jonas. When his kingdom was invaded by Dahomey, he turned to the High Seer of Avinion for support. He bargained and pleaded for assistance. But because he had betrayed so many, he found few allies, even when he offered gold. King Jonas trusted no one, so always traveled with his treasure. He feared that his own servants would plunder it in his absence. Fatefully, he fled to an abbey, seeking shelter, with the Dahomeyjan army coming from the south and the Pry-rian army coming from the north. While traveling to the abbey, he crossed a swampy fenland and realized that his wagons of treasure would have difficulty crossing, so he sent them another way. It started to rain, and the fenlands flooded. His wagons of treasure were stuck. Before his eyes, he watched them sink into the mire. Because Jonas was pressed upon by the advancing armies, he did not have the men or troops to return for his treasure, and he died shortly thereafter, leaving the kingdom to his young son. The treasure vanished from the earth, taken by the Medium’s will. It has been lost these many years to serve the Medium’s purpose.”