The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(82)
Richard gave her a confused look. “You are not coming with us through the Veil?”
Maia shook her head. “I will not abandon the people while they trek across the kingdom to safety. I must lead them to Muirwood. Richard, I want you to make sure Aldermaston Wyrich sends supplies, carts, horses . . . anything he can muster to help us.”
She saw Jon Tayt approaching out of the corner of her eye. “The first ships have been spotted,” he shouted. His eyes had a wild look about them.
Richard took her arm. “The palace is near the river. They will land here first. You must leave!”
She looked at Captain Carew. “Ready my horse!”
He looked at her as if she were crazed. “My lady, the road is no place for a queen right now. The people are desperate. They—”
“They need to see me, Captain,” Maia said firmly. “I have slept in the woods many times. Jon Tayt has already agreed to see me to Muirwood safely. Get my horse ready.”
“Already done,” Jon Tayt said with a smirk, closing the gap between them. “I would trust no other to do it right, by Cheshu. We leave through Ludgate. The guards will hold that gate until the very end, then retreat after us, forming a defense for the refugees when the Naestors attack.”
“You are utterly foolish,” the captain said with a snarl. “You could be in Muirwood within the hour!”
She put her hand on his arm. “And leave my people to be slaughtered?” She looked then at Richard. “Has Joanna evacuated Augustin and Doviur?”
“Yes,” he answered. “She shut the abbey and sealed it from within. I received word she arrived in Muirwood this morning.”
Maia smiled with relief. “Tell her I look forward to greeting her. We should arrive at Muirwood in two days’ time.” She looked around. “Where is Justin?”
“Leading the evacuation. He has not slept in two days,” Richard answered with admiration.
Maia turned to look at the Hautlander chancellor. “My lord, you are coming with us to Muirwood?”
“I am, my lady,” he said, wiping perspiration from his forehead. “My ship is sailing around to Bridgestow. If it makes it, then we will depart from there for Hautland. I fear treachery on the seas if the armada has formed a blockade. I have an able captain, my lady. I have sent a messenger through the Apse Veil to Viegg with a warning and orders to summon soldiers to help fight the Naestors. It will take time, but we will assist you. You have treated our prince with the greatest courtesy and compassion. It will not be forgotten.”
Maia was grateful for the words, but she worried the assistance would not come in time. “Thank you, Chancellor. I did what I could.”
They reached the outer doors of the palace and quickly descended the steps to a courtyard teeming with horses. Her spike-haired groomsman, Jacobs, stood holding the reins of her palfrey. “Up you go, Your Majesty,” he said with a grunt, helping her mount.
As soon as she settled into the saddle, Jon Tayt inspected the girth straps to make sure nothing had altered.
Jacobs looked affronted. “No one touched her, Master Tayt,” he said with a snort. “I assure you, I too know how to saddle a horse properly!”
Maia was grateful to be mounted and ready to depart. She saw a hand reaching up toward her and noticed Carew was handing her a hooded cloak, a simple riding cloak, nothing to mark her as nobility. She accepted it and fastened the clasp.
“She looks like she can run quite a ways,” Jon Tayt said, slapping the horse’s flank affectionately. “A sturdy girl. I like her.”
“Thank you,” Jacobs said with barely concealed annoyance. “I am pleased she earns your approval.”
Jon Tayt adjusted the strap of the shoulder armor he wore. He looked like a bristling hedgehog of weapons. Arrows fanned out from his back like turkey feathers. Several throwing axes were stuffed in hoops in his belt and a large battle-axe was strapped to a piece of leather on his shoulder. He was equipped with shooting gloves, dirks, and even a gladius for close combat. A shorter pony was waiting for him, and he quickly mounted up with a jangle of his weapons.
“Your Highness!” shouted a voice.
A herald wearing the livery of Caspur pressed through the swelling crowd. Maia waved for him to approach and he rushed over and quickly dropped to one knee in front of her. “My lady, my name is Collin, herald of the Earl of Caspur.”
“What news?” Maia asked, seeing the man’s nervous look.
“There has been a battle,” he said, coming up close. Richard Syon sidled up on foot, his face grave.
Maia frowned, trying to keep her restless horse still.
“The Naestors came inland and started killing stragglers. The earl could not abide the slaughter and led his men against them. It was a trap, and we were quickly outnumbered by reinforcements.”
Maia closed her eyes, dreading the news.
“The fighting was fierce, my lady. The Naestors are bloodthirsty and savage, but the earl’s men were not cowards. Though we were outnumbered, we fought them off. They went back to the ships to fetch more men and are coming at us again. The earl bade me to tell you that we are retreating as you ordered and will slow the Naestors’ advance as best we can. We lost many good men in the battle. But he wanted you to know they fought bravely. They fought for you.” He mopped his mouth on his glove. “He did not bade me to say this, but I will say it all the same. He rallied the men with a speech, my lady. He sang your praises to the skies. That you were a true queen-maston, that the Medium would deliver us from our enemies if we believed in you as he does. The men fought like lions, my lady. Even outnumbered as we were.”