The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(5)
“Is that how you’ve managed to convince yourself?” Maia asked him pointedly. “You think we tricked you at Muirwood?”
“Of course it was trickery!” Crabwell snapped. “We had the sheriff’s men posted around the grounds all winter. But they were not mastons, and the only place they could not search was the abbey itself. We know about the tunnels beneath the grounds, my dear. The High Seer—your grandmother—is a wise and cunning woman. I must applaud her ability with stagecraft, Maia, truly I must. She won the day, and your father was almost convinced. But Kranmir is a persuasive man. He helped him see the truth.”
“And the light coming from the abbey?” Maia said in a scoffing tone. “The mists that were sent away?”
“Leerings all have peculiar properties, child. They are useful in propagating superstitions from the old days. You cannot imagine what the Naestors believe about us, the simplicity of some men!” Crabwell coughed, then resumed a more formal tone. “Lady Maia, I am here at your father’s behest to give you one last chance to join him. If you refuse, you will be executed for treason. It will not be difficult to persuade the people that you were duped by your clever grandmother if you accede to the king’s demands and—”
“No!” Maia interrupted angrily.
Crabwell’s eyes blazed with fury. “. . . and if you sign the Act of Submission with two earls of the realm as witnesses. I have a copy of it here,” he said, waggling a leather cylinder at her. “Once you do this, you will be escorted forthwith from Pent Tower and receive all the dues you are—”
“No!” Maia said more forcefully.
Crabwell nearly choked on his impatience. “Let me finish. If you will . . . my lady. I did promise your father that I would give you this opportunity.” He swallowed, his face suddenly blotchy and red. “Ahem . . . and receive all the dues to which you are entitled as his bastard daughter. He will forgive your treason at Muirwood if you cooperate, but you will not be a member of the Privy Council. An oath made under duress is no oath at all and contrary to the laws of the realm. Lady Jayn Sexton and the king will be married this evening. She will become his rightful queen, and her issue will be his rightful heirs.” He stuffed the leather cylinder back into his belt. “There, I have completed my task. Is your answer still the same? I charge you, on your very life, not to trifle with us. The king has empowered the three of us to oversee your fate.”
“I wish to see my father,” Maia demanded firmly.
Forshee snorted, and she finally looked at him. His face was contorted with fury, and his eyes were like twin flames. An imposing man, he looked to be in his forties and very strong and hale.
“Your father will only see you,” the Earl of Caspur interjected in a forbidding tone, “if you sign the Act of Submission right now. This is your last chance, girl. Do not be a fool. The king has already promised more mercy than you deserve.”
Maia regarded the Earl of Caspur and his grizzled beard. She saw he looked more nervous than angry, his eyes almost pleading with her to acquiesce. Judging by his silver beard and the fringe of hair beneath his velvet cap, he was the oldest of the three lords.
She looked him in the eyes. “You were there, my lord,” she said softly, trying to reach him. “What you witnessed was not a deception. I opened the Apse Veil and reached through time itself and drew Lia Demont into our realm. The Covenant of Muirwood had to be fulfilled. We have so many enemies, so many who seek to humble our kingdom and bring us to desolation. I have seen the Naestors’ fleet, my lords. They will not succeed in destroying our kinsmen in Assinica, but they will come here next to hunt for them. They are on their way even now, yet here we are, fighting amongst ourselves.” She looked back at Crabwell with clear, resolute eyes. “I care nothing for lands or titles. I do not care who is queen or who is heir. Our people are suffering, Chancellor. They are suffering in squalor. They are suffering in ignorance. They are suffering because they have forgotten what the Medium even feels like. You have forgotten, sir.”
Crabwell looked at her blackly, his eyes smoldering. “I never felt it,” he said disdainfully. “Oh, it is real. I know that. They say the Medium grants our secret wishes, yes? I am an ambitious man. We all are,” he said, gesturing to the other two men. “And look how it has yielded us a ripe kingdom . . . which you seek to topple.”
Maia shook her head in denial. “I have no ambition, Chancellor. I only seek the welfare of my people.”
“That is treason,” he accused. “They are your father’s subjects, not yours.”
“They are mine because I love them,” Maia pleaded. “My husband is the King of Dahomey. If you put me to death, he will not stay his hand at revenge.” She could hear Suzenne’s ragged breathing behind her, and though she wished more than anything for her friend to be safe, she was grateful that she did not need to face these men alone.
Forshee almost spluttered with rage. “You know nothing of politics, lass,” he said. “Your husband is a penniless, gutless fool who brought his kingdom to ruination by letting himself be captured by the Naestors. Even if he wished to retaliate, he could not.”
Maia stared at him coldly. “You are misinformed, my lord Earl. About many things.” She turned her gaze on the others, giving them each the same piercing look. “I see, gentlemen, that you act out of fear and hatred. Remember what the Medium does. You are not quite correct, Chancellor, but you are close. It brings our thoughts to bear on us. You fear losing power, and so you will lose power. The foundation you stand on is crumbling.”