The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(32)

“Yes,” Richard agreed. “My understanding from the men with the treasury keys was that your father’s intention was to provide a show of power and strength that would prevent other kingdoms from attacking Comoros. Yet he built his kingdom on the backs of the poor. Those who could not pay his taxes were forced into prison.”

Maia gritted her teeth. “That is unjust!”

“It is, Maia. This is what we must discuss at the Privy Council tomorrow. The tax collectors are still at work. The prisons are overcrowded. The poor are hungry, living in the streets, and we are selling bushels of apples and cider overseas.”

She sighed and wrung her hands. “I see now why the people were nearly ready to revolt. Why have they not acted yet?”

Richard smiled at her. “What choice did they have? The earls control the knights and soldiers. The king controlled the coin and could summon mercenaries if there was an uprising. The people have grown used to the depravity. As you have said, they have forgotten what the Medium feels like.”

Maia stopped pacing and stared at him. “I grew up always wanting to be a maston. But over the years I never truly understood what it meant. It is time we set a proper example. It is time we stopped crushing the poor. I want a kingdom the people will want to fight to preserve. I do not want to hire mercenaries who defend us for a fee. If we are to survive the Naestors’ incursion, it will not be because of the size of our army or navy. We cannot hope to match what they will send against us.”

She walked toward him, her eyes afire. “My grandmother told me that when an apple barrel is corrupt, it must be cleansed on the inside first. We must clean the kingdom before another Blight descends upon us. We do this, Richard, by first cleansing the streets. Every day people are walking in mud and muck to and fro to do their business. I want the streets cleaned. I want every window to be washed. Every house painted. When I went to Rostick in Hautland, I saw a city much larger than this one in which every paving stone was swept clean. The people wore tidy, clean frocks and coats. The coronation gives us the excuse to rally the people to help cleanse our city. Use the treasury, Richard. Be generous with those who will work hard. When people arrive for the coronation, I want them to feel the difference.”

A smile quirked on Richard’s mouth. “Yes, my lady. I think they will.”

She walked over and knelt in front of his chair. “When I was coming here, I saw a child cleaning the corners of the corridor at this late hour.” She shook her head. “No more. Children are children, not slaves. I will be inspecting the kitchens and the stables and all the places where the lowest live. If I could make this city into a replica of Muirwood, I would. I want children chattering and laughing, like Aloia and Davi, while they work. The Medium will not grace us if there is so much suffering in this place. This is what I want, my lord chancellor. This is why I chose you.” She gripped his arm and saw the tears in his eyes.

“As you wish, my lady,” he answered softly. “It will take time.”

Maia shook her head. “That is not a privilege we have. The Naestors will come here first. They will try to ruin the symbol of my father’s power. We must be ready and waiting when they do.”

She rose and then smiled fondly at him. “You must get to sleep yourself. It is late.”

He chuckled softly. “I will, Maia. You can expect delegations from the other kingdoms to start arriving after the coronation. There is much to do.”

He smiled and nodded and turned back to his desk as she briskly descended the stairwell, full of energy and hope. She had to prepare herself to face the Privy Council on the morrow. She knew many would be resistant to her new ideas. It would take repetition and determination to change the standards of her father’s court. What had once been acceptable would now be eschewed.

It begins with a thought.

Maia smiled and startled when she saw both her guardsmen were gone. Collier leaned against the wall, arms folded, head cocked at her.

“You surprised me,” she said, brightening. The sight of him sent tingles up her spine, as ever it did.

“I must go,” he said.

Her heart sank. “When do you leave?”

“With the tide tomorrow on one of Simon’s ships,” he answered. He reached over and took her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

“I was going to return to Muirwood to sleep,” she said, glancing down the hall. They were truly alone. “But I want to be there ere you depart.”

“Stay then,” he said, smiling in his roguish way. He squeezed her hand. “I will watch over you while you sleep.” His other hand came up and grazed her temple, smoothing hair over her ear.

“I . . . was hoping you would stay until after the coronation,” she stammered.

He shook his head. “If Dahomey is going to stand with Comoros when the Victus comes, we need to be at our strongest.” He brought her hand up higher and stared down at it as if he were going to kiss it, but he did not. “I must go tomorrow. But I do not want to.”





Fear of death is a terror unequaled. That is why we created the threat of the Void—the extermination of every man, woman, and child. The Medium uses it to enforce obedience. The maston saying is true. Men are swayed more by fear than by reverence.


—Corriveaux Tenir, Victus of Dahomey