The Scourge of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood 3)

She could not bear to look at Colvin’s face. She held the king’s gaze, stared at him with intensity.

The young king was astonished. He looked at her in the dim torchlight. He walked closer, examining her face, her hair. “Colvin?” he asked over his shoulder. “This cannot be true.”

Lia stared down at the floor, unable to meet Colvin’s eyes. She did not want to see the look on his face. The only sound was the sharp hissing of the torches.

“Colvin?” the young king repeated.

“It is true,” came the hoarse whisper, full of pain.

“My lord king,” Lia said, forcefully and clearly. “I did not act under the orders of the Aldermaston of Muirwood. When I helped Lord Price reach Winterrowd, I did not know myself what would happen. My lord king, the Medium commanded me to kill your father. If I speak truly, then the Medium will not allow the fire to harm me. It commanded me, my lord king. It was the Medium’s will because of the many murders your father committed and allowed to be committed in his name. The mastons have been persecuted and murdered throughout your realm…” Lia’s voice cracked and she began to choke. She needed a drink desperately. Squeezing the bars harder, she swallowed and continued. “I submit myself to your judgment. If the Medium spares my life, you will know that I have spoken the truth. This man who has been tortured did nothing. He was not even at Muirwood when Winterrowd happened. He arrived a fortnight after.”

The young king stared at her. Hillel stared at her. Lia lifted herself up and dipped her head deferentially to him.

“You serve the Aldermaston of Muirwood?” the young king said, his voice thick with scorn. “I should have known. She has confessed her crime in the presence of two earls of the realm. There is no other need for witnesses.”

“Indeed,” the Aldermaston said. “May I propose, your grace, that we accept her confession as fact? All that remains is whether the Medium sanctioned the act. There is in the gardens on the grounds, a Leering that tests the truthfulness of someone falsely accused. In Dahomey, it is called a trial by ordeal. Beneath the Leering there is a cave full of poisonous snakes. If the Medium is truly with her, the snakes will not harm her, as she said. If she is guilty, the venom will kill her.”

In Lia’s mind, she saw the stone with the serpent image burning. She had visited it with Martin earlier. As she struggled with her fear, she realized that she was going to that Leering. She also realized that it had nothing to do with establishing her innocence.

“A pit of snakes,” the young king said, his voice sounding almost amused.

“I submit myself to the ordeal,” Lia whispered, shuddering with dread.

“Very well,” the Aldermaston said, sounding pleased. “You will face the ordeal at sunset. If you survive at dawn, your innocence will be established. Let us depart and make the preparations. It will be nightfall soon.”

Those in the room were compelled to leave and the kishion dragged Martin back to his cell and locked the door behind him. The Aldermaston let everyone else leave the room first and then motioned for the kishion to approach. He whispered something to his ear and then left the dungeon as well.

Lia’s skin crawled as the kishion appeared at the bars, his eyes gleaming with delight. He looked down at the goblet, untouched, on the floor near her. The amber liquid made her thirsty, but she kept her eyes on the kishion.

He took the ring of keys and unlocked her door.

“You look thirsty,” he said, bending low and lifting the goblet. “The Aldermaston said you looked very thirsty.”

Lia scooted away from him. “I will not drink it,” she warned him, tensing her body to fight.

“I think you will,” he replied with equal tenacity.

With reflexes faster than she expected, his hand was tangled in her hair and he jerked her head backwards. The goblet lip smashed against her mouth.

She knew at once it was a fight she could not win.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

The Ring

The cider sloshed against Lia’s sealed mouth, entering her nose and she started to choke. By yanking her hair, the kishion would try and make her cry out in pain and allow him to force the liquid into her mouth. There would be no victory wearing chains on her wrists and ankles. Yet she had other gifts which might aid her. Be quick and unpredictable. Force the enemy to react to her.

Knowing he would anticipate her shoving the cup away, she used the chains at her wrists to her advantage. She grabbed the base of the cup and tilted it too fast, splashing her face and front with the amber drink. It drenched her, but now the cup was empty.