The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(75)

The guards at the door announced the arrival of Lady Shilton. Richard had already interrogated her in his tower, and he accompanied her now. The woman looked frightened, her nerves frayed. Dark smudges marked the flesh under her eyes, and there was a guilty look about her.

Maia’s mind swarmed with memories of the hostility and abuse she had received from this woman. It nearly overwhelmed her, and she could not keep a disapproving frown from her mouth. She reined in her feelings, knowing that the dark memories would only foster more ill will between them. Instead, she forced herself to remember the night Lady Shilton had at last showed her compassion by giving her a new gown and trying to help ease her pain. Of course, Maia had been poisoned that same night, but she had survived that ordeal. She reminded herself that this woman’s daughter had been executed. The fall from grace must have been painful.

“Your Maj . . . esty summoned me,” Lady Shilton said in a tremulous voice.

Maia had been fidgeting all night and could not bear to sit down. Anxious to keep herself moving so fatigue would not drag her down, she approached her one-time jailer. “Lady Shilton,” she said with a nod. The woman looked haunted . . . fearful.

“I wish to plead for a life,” Lady Shilton said, coming forward and dropping to her knees. “You may do what you will with me, but I beg you to spare my granddaughter.”

Richard stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. “Before you beg for mercy, Lady Shilton, it would be best if you shared with the queen what you confessed to me this evening.”

Lady Shilton trembled and looked at the hand on her shoulder with abhorrence. She twisted her neck to gaze up at Richard Syon.

It did not escape Maia’s notice that Jon Tayt seemed about ready to spit on the hem of the woman’s dress. He sat by the window seat, holding a mug, and sipped from it slowly. He remained quiet and unobtrusive.

Lady Shilton wrung her hands.

“Please,” Maia said, reaching down and helping the older woman stand. “Sit at the table. Would you like something to drink?” The main table had plenty of empty chairs. Jon Tayt sat by the window overlooking the black night sky.

The woman allowed Maia to help her rise, and she cringed at the compassion being shown to her by the girl she had so mistreated. “Nothing,” she answered, shaking her head curtly. She retreated to the offered chair and sat, tucking some stray wisps of hair behind her ear. Her face was lined from age, but she still tried to maintain the illusion of youth through the fashion of her hair and the rouge on her cheeks.

Maia sat adjacent to her and then took her hand and patted it comfortingly. Richard sat in a chair opposite her and folded his hands on the table before him. He watched her sternly.

Lady Shilton trembled. A few fat tears pooled in her eyes. They quivered and hung on her lashes, and only did not fall because of the great force of her will. “I am guilty,” she whispered hoarsely. “I have always . . . hated you. Because you were so good. I thought you would succumb. Even a dog flinches from its master if it is beaten enough.”

Jon Tayt stifled a grunt, earning a look of misery from Lady Shilton.

“And yet you persisted despite my efforts to humiliate and destroy you. I . . . I am a traitor to Comoros. I deserve to die. But I am still a grandmother, and I love my own family.” She looked down at the table, trying to master the courage to speak. “I was a maston, you know. I studied at Billerbeck, but was not allowed to read. I was always so tempted by the forbidden knowledge. I did everything I could to steal glances at tomes. I was ambitious, so I resented the Aldermaston who prevented me from learning. I knew that the Medium brings you your thoughts. If you want it enough. If you demand it.” She hung her head. “I was a fool.”

Richard cleared his throat. “The hour is late, Lady Shilton. Tell her.”

Maia stared at the older woman curiously, wondering what dreadful secrets were finally releasing from her scabbed heart.

“I began to befriend some of the Dochte Mandar,” Lady Shilton said. “I wanted to know why women were forbidden to read. They toyed with me. Toyed with my emotions, I think. They told me I would be taught if I gave up my child to learn as well. I was married by that time, joined to a man I did not love. Deorwynn was our only child. When she came of age, I was told to send her to Dahomey for her maston training. They promised me that one day she would become queen. I thought perhaps they meant she would be Queen of Dahomey, but I realized later that it was Comoros she was fated to rule. She was taken in by a strong-willed man, a man whom I later realized was a Victus. His name was Corriveaux Tenir. They became lovers. He inspired her with ambition. He corrupted her heart as the Dochte Mandar had corrupted mine. She ruined your father, who was a faithful maston at the time.”

Maia’s heart burned with anger. She thought of Collier and found it difficult to keep the look of fury from her face.

“Your daughter was loyal to the Victus,” Maia said. “That I know. What of Murer?”

“She was to become a hetaera if you failed to become,” Lady Shilton said, her voice low. “They were grooming you, you see. There is power gained in suffering, and after a time, I realized the Victus were using my family to shape you and make you strong. I feared what you would do to us when you came to power. But I was too compromised. And you failed to accept the fate they had fashioned for you. That left me with the hope that the Victus would choose my granddaughter to fulfill your destiny. Not just to become Queen of Comoros, but to become empress of all the kingdoms. You see, Murer is Corriveaux’s daughter. She is strong willed and subtle, like her father. She is wiser than her own mother, always playing the innocent. In truth, she knew Deorwynn was losing her station, and she did not want to lose her own in the rubble. Murer came to me after your coronation. She has been secretly communing with her father through a Leering in my manor house.” Lady Shilton started to wring her hands again. “He arrived and gave her your kystrel. For a hetaera to achieve her greatest power, she must first betray someone she loves. She was interested in the King of Dahomey and he spurned her. For you. Murer will seek your lover in Dahomey, but first she will burn Billerbeck Abbey. That will be the signal for the armada to land in the north and begin the invasion. As you send your troops there to fight, the second wave of ships will strike in the west, in Caspur’s Hundred. Their goal is to trap you in Comoros before you can flee to Muirwood with your people.”