The Blight of Muirwood by Jeff Wheeler Page B

that the Medium would stop working for her altogether.
    A week passed since Martin had left. She missed him and his surly advice, his bluff manners. He was always practical, always one to force an issue, never hide from it. He would cut to the quick. What was tormenting her? What was it that truly bothered her? She pondered the question, seeing Martin’s scrunched up eyebrows, the angry jut of his jaw. Was it that Colvin was treating Ellowyn with respect when he had treated her so angrily? Did she fear he was forming an attachment to the girl? Was that it? That they would marry? The nagging thoughts were subtle – quick to dodge her attempts at confining them so easily. It was not knowing Colvin’s thoughts that bothered her. Was she seeing too much in his deference to Ellowyn? Was his politeness no more than that? In the Cider Orchard, she had assumed he felt contempt for the girl. But his manners belied any trace of it. How she wished the Medium would let her see into his mind again!
    “Lia, wait up!”
    She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she had not seen Duerden’s approach from the duck pond. He hefted his tome in one hand and arranged the flap of his leather bag so he could stuff it inside. He had grown in a year, but still barely came up to her nose.
    “Hello, Duerden,” she said, slowing her pace so he could join her.
    “I was…hoping I would find you about today,” he said, bringing the bag strap around his shoulder. “I can see you are in a hurry. I will walk with you. I do not want to keep you from your duties.”
    That was thoughtful. She liked that about him. “I was on my way to Martin’s lodge. Are you finished with your studies for the day?”
    “I am. Do you mind the company?”
    “No.” As they started walking towards the western grounds, Lia noticed him fidgeting. “What did you learn from the Hodoeporicon today? You are still engraving it?”
    He nodded excitedly. “I am hoping to finish engraving before Whitsunday. I have been burning through dozens of candles at night to work. The other learners think I am daft, but I would really like half of it scribed before I finish this year.”
    “Any sage bits of wisdom from it?” she asked playfully, bumping into him to knock him off balance. He staggered a bit, grinned, and kept up with her.
    “Several. From today – you will like this one. ‘A burden which is done well becomes light.’ Another good one – ‘he who is not prepared today will be less so tomorrow.’ Every learner should be forced to memorize that one. Rather obvious.” He started fidgeting again. She could tell he had been rehearsing. “My favorite from today was this one – ‘What is allowed us is disagreeable, what is denied us causes intense desire.’”
    The truth of that statement burned in her mouth. It was so true. Her craving to read was only made more desperate by the Aldermaston’s refusal to let her. Would she find as much pleasure in it, were it suddenly given? She hoped so. “Why Duerden, have you been practicing that one all day?”
    “I just… I thought you would like it, Lia,” he said, stammering. Sweat glistened on his forehead. The day was cool. She wondered if he had shared it with any of the other girls. “Have you heard the Queen Dowager is coming to Muirwood? What do you make of it?”
    Lia kept her eyes on the trees ahead, keeping the pace steady. “I know she is coming but I do not know much about her really. Actually, I do not know anything about her. I imagine she is very old?”
    “No, she is young,” Duerden replied. “She is eighteen, I think.”
    Lia stopped, staring at him. “Reome’s age?”
    “The old king’s first wife died when we were children – I was eight, I think. I remember when it happened. Three years after her death, he married the Pearl of Dahomey of the royal house of Mondragon. Pareigis is how you say her name in Dahomeyjan. Most call her the Queen Dowager. That means the young king is only slightly