The Wretched of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood 1)

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO:

Muirwood Abbey

Before midnight, two days later, they arrived at Muirwood on horseback. Lia had fallen asleep in the saddle again, her face pressed against Colvin’s back, while the village around Muirwood showed no signs of life. The gates of the abbey were closed. A few lamps flickered beyond soot-stained windows in the small huddle of buildings on High Street. The leaves from robust oaks sighed with the breezes.

Colvin approached the gate on horseback, and a porter was waiting there with a lantern. “The gates do not open until morning, my lord,” he said blearily.

“Tell the Aldermaston that…”

“He knows you are coming, Lord Price. I was to wait up for you. The Aldermaston left rooms for you at the Pilgrim Inn. Over yonder. Be ready then, in the morning, to present yourselves. You will be summoned when the gates open.”

“Thank you,” Colvin replied and tugged the reins to turn the stallion about. Edmon and several other horsemen followed to the inn.

“It did not take long to reach here,” Edmon said thoughtfully, then yawned. “Are you still going to hold a vigil for her?”

He stared at the inn, remembering vividly the last time he had come and who had rescued him. For a moment, he was prisoner to those memories. Wordlessly, he nodded.

“I will join you then. For her sake. She deserves the best room.” Edmon dismounted and helped steady her as Colvin slid off the stallion. He carried her up the stairs himself.

* * *

Lia awoke on the softest stuffed mattress, beneath the cleanest sheets, and resting amidst the plumpest pillows in the entire village. Warmth shimmered from the brazier. Lifting her head, she looked around and slowly recognized the room. There was the table where days before, the sheriff’s men had eaten the feast and fallen asleep while she rescued Colvin. The noise that had awakened her was the door as it butted open and in came a girl she recognized from that adventure, Bryn, carrying a long brown dress and fresh girdle. In the other hand, she carried a tray of bread and some white cheese.

“I am sent to help you,” Bryn said cheerily. “The Aldermaston’s steward just arrived from the tunnels. He is to take you back now, but we must clean you up first.”

Lia swung her legs over the side of the bed, squeezing the sheets and mattress, savoring their softness. “Am I alone? I do not even remember arriving last night.”

“Were you expecting mastons to sleep here with you all alone?” She set the tray on the table and crossed to the window and opened the shutters to peek outside. “Most slept in rooms down the hall. Two guard your door even now. The earl of Forshee, he stayed awake all night in the common room. So did the earl of Norris-York. We asked them if they were weary, and they said they were not. They are waiting in the kitchen for you now with Prestwich. Do you remember me? Can you not tell me your name still?”

Lia nodded. “Mine is Lia. I have not forgotten you, Bryn. Or what your family did for me.”

“Well, neither did the earl of Forshee,” she said smugly. “He rewarded us amply. Come over. I will brush your hair. It is a nest of snags. I can help you wash.”

Lia stopped by the window and looked out. Dawn touched the sky with pink and she could barely see the outline of the abbey against a sea of purple sky. Her heart thrilled. Bryn dragged a stool by the brazier, and Lia went to enjoy the warmth. There was a mirror nearby and what she saw in it revolted her. Turning away, she ate the warm bread while Bryn brushed the many tangles out of her hair, then gathered the mass into a thick bunch and brushed it even more vigorously. Lia’s garment was fit to be burned, and she was grateful that Bryn had brought one of her own dresses to wear. It was a little short and snug, but it fit her. She tied the pouch with the Cruciger orb to the girdle. Bryn lifted the hair and scrubbed her neck and ears with a towel and water from the basin near the brazier. Lia washed her face and hands. The water was warm and reminded her of the Leering stone in the Bearden Muir, when Colvin had helped her bathe. She paused at the memory, her heart fluttering. She was anxious to see him. And nervous. He had let her have the soft bed and had forsaken sleep. The thought made her glow inside.

When they were through, Lia returned to the mirror. She looked at herself closely. Her skin was darker than she thought it would be from her days in the sun. There were little cuts and scrapes all over her face and arms, especially a dark scab on the end of her chin from her fall on the hillside at Winterrowd. In the reflection, she saw the twine string around her neck and delicately withdrew the wedding band she had worn so long. She tucked it back in quickly when Bryn approached.