The Blight of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood 2) - Page 45


“I have embarrassed and offended you!” he said with delight. “Forgive me, lass! Marciana is quite used to my barbs. We knew each other at Billerbeck where she wasted far too much time pining over ancient tomes instead of learning about the world.”

“What are you doing here?” Marciana said venomously.

“Offending you as well, naturally. We all have talents, it is true. This is mine. I do not have the penchant for reading as you do.”

“You never found much occasion to be at the cloisters at Billerbeck. It is a wonder you care to be in one now?” Marciana observed.

“Always ready with an insult.”

“You accuse me of that?”

“It is a waste of a beautiful mouth to use it in quarreling. Shall I silence you as I did in Billerbeck with a kiss? Think of the shock. Think of the lurid stories they would tell.” His voice dropped lower and he stepped towards her.

Marciana’s face went ashen. “I bit you then,” she whispered defiantly. “You will not steal that from me again.”

A little smirk quivered on Dieyre’s mouth. “No, I will not steal it. It must be given freely next time. But at least I have the memory to treasure. Especially when I realized you enjoyed it. There is also the pleasant scene of your brother’s reaction.” He turned and glanced at Lia. “Are you my shadow? Why are you still here?”

Lia stared at him, at his sudden provocation, and then she knew. It was as if she could look into his soul for just a moment. She understood him. “You followed me here, my lord.”

His eyes narrowed. “You are filthy and soaked.”

“So are you. My lord,” she added deferentially. “Why did you come here?”

“Are you questioning me?” he asked, his eyebrows arching. A look of anger kindled on his face.

“Yes,” Lia replied, moving around the other side of him to force him to twist his neck to see her. She was closer to Ellowyn now. “Your purpose for coming to the cloister? Other than to annoy the learners?”

He looked at her. “How old are you?”

Courage began to seep back into her bones at meeting his challenging tone. “If you will not submit to my questions, then I will not submit to yours but kindly insist that you leave. If you have no reason to be here, that is.”

He paused, staring at her so keenly it was unnerving. But she steeled herself and met his gaze as she had always done with the Aldermaston.

“How much would it cost me to purchase your loyalty?” he asked in a low voice. “Such a maiden as you is worth fifty squires. Maybe a hundred. I know you are a wretched, that you owe a debt of service. But I would gladly take you into my service when your debt is done.”

For a moment, Lia was startled, but she did not let it show. She knew his measure. “If you have no business here, then kindly follow me to the door so the porter can let you out.”

“You are not to be distracted, are you?” he said, grinning.

“I am a hunter,” she replied simply, cocking her head and raising her eyebrow.

“Very well. I will state my purpose before you embarrass me in front of the learners by tossing me out on my ear.” He wagged his finger at her. “Do not deny that would tempt you. My purpose then, is to persuade these young women both to leave Muirwood.”

“Persuade us?” Marciana said, her voice brim with loathing and antipathy. “Or abduct us?”

“As much as I would enjoy trussing you up like a piglet, Ciana, my purpose is as I stated it to be. I have given you my purpose, hunter, so sheath those glaring eyes and let me further my cause by asking several questions of great importance.” He turned his gaze on Ellowyn. “Your uncle – Demont. Does he intend you to wed the young king?”

Ellowyn’s eyes bulged and her mouth widened with shock. Lia covered her face and sighed.

“Try, lass, to control your face. That will never do at court. It will not do at all. Given your blatant surprise, I gather the answer is no. Is he going to hand you over to the Pry-rians then? Those dogs who are baying after you like table scraps?”

Lia’s blood flared hot when he called them dogs, but she did not let it show on her face.

“My…my uncle…”

Marciana squeezed her arm. “You do not have to tell him anything, dearest. He is prodding in the dark.”

“I swear I just may shame you with another kiss, no matter how sharp your teeth are,” he said with a growl. “Has your brother been practicing his swordsmanship much these days? A good fight would make the most of such tedious weather. This is an Abbey after all. I am sure they could spare an ossuary for his bones.”

Tags: Jeff Wheeler Legends of Muirwood Fantasy
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