The Void of Muirwood by Wheeler Jeff

Author:Wheeler, Jeff [Wheeler, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781503948723
Published: 2015-10-27T07:00:00+00:00

Later that evening, Maia rubbed her finger along the rim of her goblet, feeling a sense of peace and wonder. Another disaster had been averted. Another danger faced and met. As she watched her friends and supporters mingle in the hall, she thought of the armada that was even now on its way to Comoros. Knowing about Ludgate’s defenses had helped her preserve the city. But she knew she could not count on them against the Dochte Mandar. Even with all her strength, she knew she could not overcome the combined will of so many men empowered with kystrels. While those around her were celebrating her triumph over her foes, she could only brood about the worse danger that was still coming.

Suzenne touched her arm. She had not seen her friend approach. “Look, Maia,” she whispered.

Maia turned and gazed at the men who approached her seat. Richard Syon was escorting the Earl of Caspur, whose head was hung low with apparent shame. His hands were worrying each other and were not in chains, which surprised her. Each of the others had been brought forward in shackles before being escorted to the dungeons of Pent Tower. She noticed the difference and gave Richard a curious look. Rather than reply, Richard gestured for Caspur to speak.

Never had she seen him appear so pitiful. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering what he could have to say. Dodd coughed into his fist and leaned forward for a better look.

Caspur struggled to find his voice. She could see the wretchedness on his face, the misery. The humiliation. She waited patiently.

“Your . . . Your Majesty,” Caspur said chokingly. He struggled to master himself. Menacing and hateful looks narrowed in on him from around the room. He was a proud man, and his arrogance had alienated many. His courage quailed, but he persisted. “I . . . I know you will not . . . likely believe me. And if you send me to Pent Tower . . . I will accept it. But I wanted you . . . nay . . . I needed you to know that although I disobeyed you”—he paused again, struggling to contain his surging emotions—“I am not a traitor . . . as you may suppose me to be.” His hands formed into fists, the knuckles white, the tendons straining.

“Tell me why not,” Maia said calmly, giving him an encouraging look and a gesture to continue.

He glanced at her, seeming to be stung by her open look, and lowered his gaze again. His hands were all knotted up. “I disobeyed you. I thought . . . I thought your decision foolish and . . . too risky. I wanted to prove myself to you. I wanted . . . desperately . . . for you to value me and my counsel. I . . . my lady . . . I went to face Kord Schuyler to defeat him, not to join him.” His voice gathered strength. “When our armies were nigh each other .

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