The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(62)
Simon shook his head. “No, he is quite hale.”
She furrowed her brow. “There is something you are concealing from me.”
He pursed his lips and said nothing.
“Simon,” she prodded.
“Yes, my lady?”
She was growing more and more uneasy. “Please tell me.”
He studied her closely. “I know my lord’s reasons for not granting your wish to meet him,” he said in his most diplomatic way. “I know him very well. It is nothing that should alarm or concern you. You must understand, he is very busy and has much to accomplish. He has a hard time sitting still, as you well remember. He was flattered by your offer to cross to Dahomey, and it took immeasurable self-possession on his part to refuse your offer, but he does not want you to come now. He wants you to come over for your coronation. First, he hopes to subdue his enemies and present you with an attractive alliance. I will say no more, because I was commanded not to speak on the matter.” Simon leaned back in his chair and scratched the corner of his eyebrow. “You are tenacious, my lady. I must never forget that.”
Maia smiled at the compliment and felt a measure of relief. But it troubled her that Collier was keeping secrets from her and that he had commanded his spy to do the same.
“I will prod you no more,” Maia said. “Any word from my grandmother? She went to Hautland and then to Mon. Is she still there?”
“I believe so,” Simon replied. “Word can travel slowly, and she often changes her mind about where she is going midcourse. My understanding is that the Apse Veil is now open in Hautland. Her visit was well received, and she was treated with great honor and respect. She left for Mon a fortnight ago, but I have had no word since her arrival there.”
“Any word from Walraven?” Maia asked.
Simon nodded. “Yes, he revealed that the Naestors still intend to attack the city of Comoros itself as soon as the armada arrives. Corriveaux has contact with the fleet captains through waymarker Leerings, you know. It takes sixty to eighty days to make the voyage to Assinica. He said it will be at least another month before they arrive. Which is why spending time preparing the defenses is wise.”
Maia sighed. “I do not want to abandon the city,” she said restlessly. “But I do not see any way we can withstand such a fleet and survive. The Leerings cannot defend us against the Dochte Mandar. We have been gathering food and supplies either for a siege or to flee. But the people will need a safe haven. Muirwood is the only place that makes sense to me,” Maia said. “It is surrounded by the Bearden Muir. It will be a difficult Hundred to invade, especially by sea. If the other kingdoms do not come to our aid . . .”
Simon nodded in agreement. He was also convinced that only the combined might of all the kingdoms could save them from the fury of the Naestors.
A firm rapping sounded on the door, breaking Maia from her reverie.
Simon rose and answered it. A flushed man came in, his eyes wide, his cheeks pale. He was trembling.
“What is it?” Simon asked curtly. “Have you received a message from the king?”
The man shook his head. “I came from the castle,” he said, out of breath. He looked at Maia. “My lady, you must come at once! The Privy Council is gathering.”
Maia bolted from her chair. “What has happened?” The painfully familiar feeling of dread fused her bones and heart together.
The man mopped his brow. “Ships were seen from Doviur,” he said. “White sails. They bear the flag of Hautland. They passed the port of Doviur and have been seen sailing along the coast—directly toward our city. The message came from the chancellor’s wife, Joanna, who saw them near Augustin. A maston just came through Claredon with the news. My lady, it could be the armada!” He looked panicked as he gripped Simon’s arm. “We thought we had another month, but the ships will be here by nightfall!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Prince of Hautland
The city trembled in suspense as Maia prepared to give the order to evacuate. Plans had been developed; the city watch was trained; and wagons, teams of horses, and provisions had been assembled. But the appearance of ships off the coast caused a panic. Some of the citizenry bolted, and Maia had to give the order for all the gates save one to be shut. Ludgate was calmer, it being garrisoned by a company of prisoners-turned-soldiers whom Jon Tayt had been drilling and shaping into warriors. It was the only gate that she allowed to remain open. Mastons traveled through the Apse Veils to offer warnings and to prepare the armies of the Earls of Caspur and Forshee for the coming invasion.
Maia paced in the solar, thronged by her ladies-in-waiting and a few members of the Privy Council. She had assigned the lord mayor and her chancellor to prepare the city for attack and she waited to hear from them with keen anxiety. Suzenne looked greensick with worry. Jayn plucked chords from a lute to try to soften the mood, but it did nothing to dispel the oppressive feeling in the room.
A knight from her guard bounded up the steps and rushed into the room, face dripping with sweat. Everyone was on their feet in a moment. Maia stared at him as he hurried and knelt in front of her. She cared nothing for such formalities. She wanted only to hear his news.
“My lady, I was told to bring you word. The ships arriving bear the royal flag of Hautland. The lead ship flies a truce flag. The lord mayor has ordered the men to hold their crossbows at the ready. Three ships approached the harbor, but only one docked.”