The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(53)
Maia’s heart nearly burst when she saw Jon Tayt slouched over on a barrel, his belt stuffed with throwing axes, his cloak askew off one thick shoulder, his coppery hair ruffled from the journey. He looked over his shoulder at her when the door opened, and the warm smile he gave her made tears sting her eyes.
“Ah lass,” he said, leaning forward and grunting as he stood. “Made queen at last. What a kettle of fish.” There were crumbs in his beard and grease stains on his shirt front, but he looked and smelled and laughed like Jon Tayt, and she had never been so happy in her life to see someone.
Maia shocked the entire kitchen when she rushed forward and gave him a fierce hug. The dawning realization that this opinionated traveler was a friend of the Queen of Comoros seemed to stun the kitchen staff into silence.
Jon Tayt put a meaty arm around her shoulders, its very weight and heaviness a comfort. “I was attempting to explain to these skillful cooks the finer points of Dahomeyjan culture. I think I may have offended several, but I was only trying to help them impress you for dinner by bringing you something you would enjoy.” He cast his gaze around the kitchen, raising his eyebrows mischievously. “Mayhap next time you will heed my counsel,” he said to a few frightened-looking chefs clustered at a nearby counter. “The meal, which was delicious, I thank you for. I am pleased to see, my lady, that you insist on feeding travelers.” He patted his belly with satisfaction. “Satisfying my appetite took some doing, by Cheshu.”
“What are you doing here?” Maia gasped with delight. She stroked some hair behind her ear and pulled Jon Tayt away from the kitchen staff. She gave a nod to Solomon to indicate all was well and she would escort him from the kitchen so they could continue their work. She took Jon Tayt back into the hall and started toward the council room.
Jon Tayt smiled and fingered one of his axe blades. “I suppose you could say the Medium bade me to come. Or you did. To be honest, I have not been my normal cheerful self lately. It is not enough to only see you in passing now and then at the abbey grounds. I am not a maston, of course, so I could not cross the Apse Veil. But word came from Aldermaston Wyrich. He said there was a pressing need . . . that you were in danger and needed protection. He sent me three days ago and I just arrived. What is amiss?”
A flushed feeling of warmth came into Maia’s heart. Jon Tayt was one man. But he was her friend, her traveling companion, and—additionally—an Evnissyen. Members of his family were traditionally advisors and protectors of the rulers of Pry-Ree, and her grandmother had sent this man to Dahomey to watch and wait for her. She felt Jon Tayt had been aware of her for her entire life. The relief it gave her to be in his mere presence was staggering. She had thought of summoning him to help track down the kishion, but events had overwhelmed everyone, and the message had never been sent.
She quickly shared the news from Simon Fox, warning him of the implications. If they were in the middle of a civil war when the Naestors posed their invasion, they would provide an easy target.
Jon Tayt rubbed his nose as they walked, listening carefully to her. “You would be amazed, Maia, at how few it takes to conquer many. I know this problem is urgent and difficult, and I assure you it will not be easy. But consider how Pry-Ree fares beside such a large and violent neighbor. We have tactics for occasions such as this one. There are ways you can mislead another army into thinking you are bigger than you are. If Schuyler believes he is marching into a trap, he will be hesitant and overcautious.”
Maia felt a ray of hope brightening inside her. She could not help but grin at him. “Are you telling me, Jon Tayt, that there is a proper way to defend a city during a siege?”
“My lady, there is only one proper way to defend a city or fight a war. And it just so happens that I know the secret. It is simple. Be wise and always do the unpredictable. We will make those false earls believe we have ten times our number. Once a Pry-rian captain ordered his men to run through the woods in circles to make them look mightier . . . and it worked. It is not a hopeless situation, lass.” He hooked his arm around hers. “Let me tell you a little story while we walk.”
If fear is pain arising from the anticipation of evil, then we must unleash the anticipation of the most evil possible. Fear chases away the Medium. It leads to doubt and then despair. Fear will win us this war.
—Corriveaux Tenir, Victus of Dahomey
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ludgate
It was past midnight, but no one in the castle was asleep. Maia and Suzenne sat near each other on a comfortable couch, their hands gripped together. Their last report from Dodd revealed that he was pushing his men to exhaustion, but they would still not arrive at the city for several days. They would arrive well after Schuyler’s force. Meanwhile, reports that Schuyler’s army had reached the outer villages surrounding the capital had unleashed a mass panic in the city. Curfew was being enforced, but some families were trying to slip away and flee into the countryside in the night. The gates were closed and under constant watch, but much of the city had been built up outside the walls. The citizens were rightly terrified.
“And I thought I felt ill at ease the night before Whitsunday,” Suzenne said, pressing her other hand against her forehead. “Will these pangs of dread never leave us, Maia?”
The other ladies-in-waiting were gathered with them in Maia’s chamber. All of them wore nightgowns and shawls, but everyone was too nervous to sleep. Maia had another reason to fight sleep. Every time her eyelids grew heavy, a dark feeling fluttered in her heart—anxious, watchful, waiting . . .