The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(45)



“Thank you, Richard,” she said. “This is exactly what I had hoped to achieve. Every day, we must start again with clean streets.”

He patted her arm. “There is no shortage of men looking for work. They are joined by the masses from Assinica who insist on working for nothing. They want to help wherever and however they can. It is not just the part of the city near the palace that looks like this, either. All the streets do.”

Maia beamed at him and then followed him to the palace wall. They headed to the secret corridor Maia had used to escape the castle not so very long ago, and were able to silence its power, to create fear, and pass. Due to its special ability to repel trespassers, the alley was as empty as ever it was. When they reached the end of the wall, Richard knocked on the door, which was opened by a member of her guard.

“Your Majesty.” The young soldier greeted her with a salute.

Maia asked him for his name and tried to memorize it as they continued across the greenyard toward the palace, walking quickly.

“What did you learn from the young knight in Pent Tower?” Maia asked. “I believe Hove was his name.”

“Yes. He hails from Augustin Hundred originally, but he was recently knighted by Forshee for his willingness to challenge your champion. He believed he risked his life and was surprised that we did not lock him in irons and throw him into the dungeons.”

“Thank you for not doing that,” Maia said. “What did he reveal to you?”

“I tested him on his maston training,” Richard replied. “He is one, truly. We had an excellent conversation. He was so fearful that I wondered if he would even be able to feel the Medium at all. But after some assurances and gestures to lower his defenses, I learned that he is well intentioned. He is ambitious, to be sure, but that is normal for young men his age. After the intensity of the moment ebbed, he looked younger and younger and began to worry more about his parents and what they would think of him.”

Maia nodded to the pikemen guarding the palace doors, winning surprised looks of gratitude from both of them, before she and Richard entered.

“Did you tell him the truth about me?” Maia asked.

“I told him just enough to explain, no more. An Aldermaston cannot deliberately lie, so the boy trusted what Kranmir told him explicitly. I explained to him the doctrine of investment and how Kranmir’s actions have forfeited his right to govern an abbey. It is troubling indeed that Kranmir is spreading gossip and lurid misrepresentations about you, which will only fan the flames of distrust in ardent young men like this one, who do not understand that something can be untrue without being fully a lie. I am being brief, of necessity, for we must meet with the Privy Council, but I believe the youth is no longer our enemy.”

Maia nodded in agreement. “What do you believe we should do to him?”

“I would like to release him at once.”

She smiled. “Good. That is my will also. Have him set free immediately.”

“I will,” he said, returning her smile. “I am glad to see we think alike on this matter. I had the sense you would not want to keep him incarcerated, but I wanted to leave the judgment to you.”

“Thank you, but you have my authority to act on my behalf, Richard. I trust your wisdom in matters such as this.”

“Very well,” he agreed meekly.

As they walked toward the council room, Maia was aware of the attention, the stares and whispers, of the people they passed. Even the lowliest servants were marking her, recognizing her, and watching her with interested eyes. They seemed . . . eager and most were busy with some kind of work. She remembered that she still wanted to visit them in their places and get to know them. But with the threat of rebellion hanging in the air, that would have to wait.

The mayor of Comoros was pacing outside the council chamber, his eyes bloodshot and haggard from the past night’s festivities.

“Good morning, Your Majesty.” He greeted her with a bow and opened the door.

She entered and found the full Privy Council in attendance. Bristling tension hung in the air, and a few of the council members bore angry looks, including Dodd. She sensed the shift in mood, the repelling of the Medium as she crossed the threshold. Suzenne looked at her with a small, tight frown, as if in warning.

“Good morning,” Maia greeted, walking in quickly, a little out of breath from the brisk walk from the abbey. Strange how she had broken her fast with Davi and Aloia in the kitchens of Muirwood not long ago. Just an hour prior, she had been trying to coax a conversation from the quiet Thewliss, the gardener whose wife ran the kitchen. Now that Maia was a queen herself, he had regressed back to his former silence.

She motioned for Richard to begin the meeting as she paced along the front aisle of the room. She hated seeing that tall, carved throne on the dais and could not picture herself ever sitting on it, gazing down at her council members from its imperious height.

Richard walked to the front seat and desk next to the throne, which was piled with stacks of scrolls, parchments, and even a gleaming tome. He paused for a moment and took a long look at those who had assembled before him. Even that was enough to make the dark mood in the chamber wane. With a stern look on his face, he cocked his head slightly and pointed to a spot on the tome with his thick finger.

“It is said in the tomes that anger is a choice. It is a decision. One wise maston once said”—he looked down at the golden page, his voice slowing deliberately to articulate the quote—“‘There are two things a person should never be angry at. What they can help. And what they cannot.’” He smiled at the saying and lifted his hand. “In a word, let us try to banish anger from these meetings. It is entirely possible for wise and educated persons to disagree about points of fact. But facts are stubborn things. Whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passions, they cannot alter facts and evidence. We must strip away the rest. The happiness of the people is the aim of any good government. Now for the reports.”

Jeff Wheeler's Books