The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(69)
“I saw it,” Richard said. He stared down the younger man. “Prince Oderick, what possessed you to take such a liberty with any woman, let alone the Queen of Comoros?”
Prince Oderick’s face was flushed, his eyes worried. He gestured for the Hautland chancellor to join him. “I vas told . . . by Aldermaston Breinholt . . . I saw his tome!” He gave Richard a look of desperation. “He vould lie to me? Sprechen gaffin!” When Chancellor Vorstad arrived, the prince spluttered a series of coarse words at the older man and jabbed his finger at Maia.
Maia’s stomach shriveled into a prune. She felt sick at heart. Both her grandmother and Lia had warned her never to kiss anyone. Oderick had completely startled her with his action. She had not expected it, and while there had been nothing she could do to stop him, she regretted it immensely.
The Hautland chancellor gave the prince a worried look and then turned to face Richard. “I myself spoke with the Aldermaston of Viegg Abbey not four days ago,” he said. “He showed us the tome that said the hetaera’s curse would lift if the kystrel was forsaken. The High Seer herself assured me that the queen had forsaken it!”
Maia stared hard at the man. “The High Seer is my grandmother,” she said, her voice trembling. “She would never have said it was safe for him to kiss me, Chancellor. Watch your words with care, sir. What precisely did the High Seer say?”
The man looked truly concerned and baffled. “I saw her in person, my lady. She came to Hautland to open the Apse Veil and arrived in Viegg . . . the oldest abbey in the realm. I counseled with her regarding your status, because the prince believed you were a hetaera and wanted to rescue you. The High Seer told me you had been deceived by the Victus, that you did not choose to bear the brand on your shoulder. Is this not true?”
“That part is true,” Maia said, nodding gravely. “What else did she say?” Maia glanced at Richard, whose face was twisted with concern.
The chancellor coughed and put his hand on the prince’s shoulder, almost as if to steady himself. “She said that you were married to King Gideon of Dahomey by the rites of the Dochte Mandar. After I informed her of the marriage’s invalidation, she told me she needed to depart immediately. The Aldermaston of Viegg offered to escort her back through the abbey himself. They went with some of his servants, as I recall. When he returned, he said she had crossed the Apse Veil to Mon. He then told me that the High Seer had mentioned a passage in the Aldermaston tomes . . . the tomes we are not allowed to read. He showed us the page . . . I saw the words myself, my lady. It said if a hetaera surrenders her kystrel, the Medium will not suffer her kiss to cause harm. The prince wanted to prove this to you. Upon my honor, my lady, this information was given to us by an Aldermaston.”
Maia stared at Richard again, her stomach dropping to her feet. “My grandmother went to Mon?” she asked. His report matched what Simon had last told her.
Except Simon was now dead.
Richard’s frown was severe. “Perhaps . . . she did not make it to Mon safely,” he said softly in her ear.
Maia felt a sense of deep dread inside of her. She knew her grandmother. Sabine would have sent word right away—she would have warned Maia of the Dochte Mandar’s decree. Sabine sought to rally the kingdoms to help Comoros defend itself against the armada. She was a natural target for the Victus.
Maia stared at Prince Oderick and then at his chancellor. “You have been tricked, my lords. There is no cure for the hetaera’s curse. It was bound by irrevocare sigil. When the prince . . . kissed me, I felt it invoke the Leering. He will become very sick.” Maia’s heart anguished for the man. “Oderick, if you leave, you will only infect others. If you return to your kingdom, you could be the very means of destroying it.” Maia shook her head in frustration. “The Victus sent you here to die,” she said angrily.
Chancellor Vorstad’s eyes widened until nearly all the whites were showing. He took an involuntary step away from the prince, his lips quivering with horror.
“I cannot let you leave,” Maia said, staring at the prince. “Think of the deaths you would cause. The plague strikes quick and hard. By tomorrow, you will learn for yourself that my words are true.” She reached out and touched the prince’s arm. “I am sorry. I would have prevented this if I could have.”
The prince stared at her, his face miserable. Then he shook his head. “I am not your hustage,” he said. He tried to smile, but his mouth could not work that way. “I am still your guest. You are right, my lady. I must not infect the others.” He turned to the chancellor. “Ven it is clear that my death is close, you must return to Hautland. You must abolish the Dochte Mandar from Hautland. I order this, Chancellor. In my father’s name. I order this.”
It was after dark and most of the castle had gone to bed. Maia walked with Richard toward the chancellor’s tower, where her aging friend would yet spend a few more hours reading correspondence that had arrived in the middle of the crisis. Richard walked with a slight limp, one hand on his hip as if it pained him, but he never said a word about his suffering.
Maia’s heart felt as if it had been trampled on. “How do we fight such cunning?” Maia said as they walked slowly, passing the Leerings that illuminated the way. “First Simon. Then Oderick. Now my grandmother,” she said, her stomach clenching with dread. “I fear for Dahomey next.”