“Is it still troubling you?” Prestwich asked softly, his brows agitated.
“More so at night. Do not worry. All will be well in the morning. Thank you.”
The snow-haired steward did not look convinced, but he obeyed the Aldermaston and gently shut the door. A pent-up breath passed in the hush of the evening. Only the desk lamp offered light. Lia nestled at the window seat, where Martin usually did, and watched the Aldermaston’s face, so tired and in obvious pain.
“I am sorry to add to your burdens,” Lia whispered.
“You did as you should. Thank you, Lia.” He looked at her solemnly. “You do not realize how much I rely on you. Or how much I trust you. Let me see if I can arrange the facts as I understand them. If I miss any, do correct me. The Queen Dowager seeks to lay blame for her husband’s death on Muirwood and specifically, myself.”
Lia’s blood sizzled with anger. “How can she accuse you when it was I?”
The Aldermaston held up his hand. “Let us understand the facts before we discern motives. She arrived at Muirwood earlier than her message indicated. She departs on the morrow for Winterrowd with her retinue but claims she will return to celebrate Whitsunday which is next week. Martin has not returned. You tracked Scarseth to the Tor where you were ambushed by riders, likely part of the Queen Dowager’s retinue. Those riders are probably still in the woods searching for Martin or perhaps waiting for you to wander out. It is clear they had a description of my hunter before they arrived. The Earl of Dieyre travels with the Queen Dowager and offers a warning to Ellowyn Demont to leave Muirwood, hinting that it is dangerous to be here. He discloses to you that a kishion is part of the retinue, and you have rightly learned that they are hired killers.” He stared at his desk. “Did I neglect anything?”
Lia leapt out of the window seat. “How can you sit there so calmly?” She started pacing. “My head is so full! I do not know what to think or what we should do with so many threats. I am at a loss, Aldermaston. Should I take Ellowyn now and flee in the storm? Is there a safe haven that would welcome her?”
He shook his head and gently held up one hand in a calming gesture. “The time is soon, Lia. But not yet. It is brooding with me right now. My feelings tell me we should wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“What indeed? For the right moment to act. The Medium will tell us when that is.”
Lia folded her arms. “The way the Earl of Dieyre said it, it makes me fear that Muirwood will be destroyed.” Just the thought made her furious. It was her Abbey, her home.
He smiled sardonically. “Which is why he said it, Lia. Do not trust him, as I warned you not to trust Almaguer. He told you about the kishion precisely because he wanted to put you on your guard. To make you worry. It is his purpose for being here.”
“Should I not worry, Aldermaston?” Lia said, pacing again. “Who am I against the best swordsman in the realm? Against a kishion? I am barely fifteen.”
“You are who you have always been. I told you that yesterday. In this Abbey, you are the strongest in the Medium. You have powers of influence, powers of insight and wisdom, and protection that your enemies do not have. You are under my protection as well as the protection of the Abbey. And not just this one, but every Abbey in the realm who stays true to the oaths and covenants that are made here. The Blight has not struck us yet. So remember, child, that there are more with us than with them. Even hosts you cannot see.”
“If anything were to happen to the Abbey…to you…” Lia muttered, feeling a surge of protectiveness.
His eyes crinkled. “My fate rests with the Medium’s will, Lia. Not a kishion’s. Not even the Queen Dowager’s, though she would believe otherwise. And so does yours. Remember that. Always remember that.”
“What would you have me do?” she asked, looking at him with respect. He had always been so stern. Rarely had she heard such softness in his voice.
“Prepare ourselves to act as the Medium will soon direct us at the right moment. But it would help us to be wise. The rain will delay the Queen Dowager’s departure until later in the day. Many of her servants only speak Dahomeyjan, so they converse with each other in that language, which is foreign to our helpers. Let us change that.”
Lia stepped closer. “How?”
“Come here, child. Kneel before me so I do not have to stand. I intend to Gift you.”
A thrill went through her heart. Eagerly, she approached and knelt before him. She could feel the power of the Medium radiating from him. His eyes, though red with fatigue, were strong and choked with emotion. She bowed her head and closed her eyes so he could make the maston sign without her seeing. His heavy hand pressed against her head and a shiver went through her skin.