The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(16)



He nodded. “It is nearby.”

It was where Collier had told her she would find the business of Simon Fox, his spy from Dahomey. She knew the man was also a spy of the Victus, but he was betraying the Dochte Mandar to support Maia’s grandmother.

They walked, hand in hand, through the crowded street. Maia was appalled at the filth clogging the gutters, the broken windows and lopsided houses and shops. Flies buzzed around the commotion, heedless of the human troubles, seeking their foul nectars to drink. The stench in the air was strong. The city was large and had never been as clean as the streets of Rostick, but it had never been this foul. Her father’s misdeeds had drowned his kingdom in sorrow and filth.

As they reached Flax Street, Maia could discern the scent of wine from the other odors. She saw several shops before her eyes fixed on the one with Fox’s name. They hurried toward it, each step feeling lighter and more hopeful.

“I must leave you now,” the kishion said, releasing her hand. “I know you will be safe here.” He stared into her eyes without looking away.

Yes, there it was again—something had changed in this hard man. There was devotion in his gaze . . . ardent devotion. What had she done to deserve it?

She had saved his life from the Fear Liath. She recalled the last words they had spoken when he lay crippled by his wounds. He had asked her to leave him. To escape him. She had denied him vehemently and brought him to a healer at the village below Cruix Abbey.

“Where are you going?” Maia asked fearfully.

He smirked. “You would not approve. The chancellor is the next to fall. When the mayor brings you to the palace, you will find it ready to welcome you. Farewell, Maia. I will be near if you need me.”

Without another word, he turned and vanished into the crowded street beyond.





CHAPTER SIX




The King’s Daughter





When Maia pushed open the door to the trading shop on Flax Street, she was surprised to see so many people bustling about frantically. She spotted Simon Fox quickly. He had seemed solemn and almost detached in Muirwood, but now he looked agitated and unkempt. His velvet cap was gone, his brown hair was mussed, and his eyes were bleary from lack of sleep. He was talking to three men at once, but when he noticed her, his eyes blazed wide and he nearly shoved the men aside.

“Lady Maia!” he said, choking. He rushed to her side, staring at her in utter amazement. “But how? You are here? Truly? Or do my eyes deceive me?” He reached out and touched her arm, as if to assure himself that she was not a phantom.

“I am safe,” she answered, searching the room. “But where is my husband?”

“In the front lines of the crowd attempting to force entry into the castle. Tanner and Brent—quickly! Tell him that she is here.”

“At once,” one of the men replied. Needing no further instruction, both of them rushed out the door.

Simon went to the window, looked out quickly, and then steered her into a comfortable, furnished back room. He gestured for her to take a seat in what had to be his chair—a thick, padded leather chair behind a broad desk. She chose a small couch instead and sat down, trying to calm her trembling hands.

“How are you even here?” he asked in utter astonishment.

“I was rescued,” she answered.

“By?”

She stared at him. “The kishion whom my father hired to kill me.”

Looking even more bewildered in face of her explanation, he went and sat down on the edge of his desk, tugging at the strands of his forked beard. He was young, only a few years older than she was, but he was wiser than most, and his mind worked quickly.

“It is known to the Victus that the new headsman is a kishion. But he had orders to kill you . . .” He looked at her gravely. “I have tried all night to find a way into the castle to free you. They locked every gate, sealed every porter door. No traffic was allowed in for any reason unless the visitor bore the chancellor’s seal. Crabwell is clinging to power by his fingernails. And so the king and I suggested a riot.”

Maia nodded. “There was talk of it in the tower during the night.” She stifled a yawn. “I have not slept at all. They were moving us around on the hour. My friend Suzenne was also on the platform with me, but I could not save her. Her husband, Dodd, is also imprisoned in Pent Tower. Can you—?”

“I will send someone at once,” he said, rising swiftly from the desk and disappearing into the other room.

When he returned, he found her in the midst of another yawn. Before either of them said anything, he quickly went to a side cabinet and withdrew a small blanket. “You are exhausted. Here, lie on the couch awhile and rest. My men are searching for the king and your friends. I am sorry for this ordeal, Lady Maia. That your father would stoop to this . . . well, those are the only words available to me. I am truly sorry.”

She gratefully accepted the blanket. “My father is dead,” she said. “The kishion is going after Crabwell next.”

Simon blanched. “Then the government has been toppled, and the country is at risk of invasion. A new ruler needs to be chosen immediately. It will not take long for Hautland or Paeiz to press a claim.”

“Or Dahomey?” Maia asked with an arch look. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

“He would not do that to you,” Simon replied, smiling benignly. “You have changed him, my lady. He is a different man since coming to Muirwood. You have humbled his pride. I had not even believed it possible.”

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