“There is wisdom climbing mountains,” Maderos said softly. “For they teach us how truly small we are. This is just a pebble within one kingdom. There are higher mountains you must climb, child. Greater views you will yet see.”
“Idumea’s hand, it is the king’s army!” Colvin said, his voice throbbing with awe. “I…I cannot discern its size for all the dust. Look at the pennants though. The columns. They are coming. Look at it!”
Lia mopped her eyes on her sleeve and turned to see as well. He stood on a short outcropping, gazing south, the wind tousling his hair, his tunic. From the distance, like a black snake, the army stretched along the road, a cloud of haze rising up from its back.
“Yes, the king’s army, pethet! And that is only a part, from the king’s city itself. Another marches from the south. They join at Bridgewater in three days. Three.”
“You know this?” Colvin asked.
“The orb tells many things. Others the Medium whispers to me. Hearken to my words. If you take the road, you will be captured. And the girl. The road is not safe. The befallen king summons his full strength. He leaves no portion of his mind open for doubt that he will crush Demont’s army. His thoughts are very strong. Always, he tempers his thoughts.”
“How many?” Colvin asked.
“Eh, pethet?”
“How many does Demont have?”
Maderos smiled wickedly. “A tenth, if that. A tithing of the king’s men. If that. Does it weaken your will, pethet? To know you cannot win?”
“No,” Colvin answered angrily. “Demont must be warned.”
“Yes! You must warn him. Fill his mind with doubt. Yes, that will be helpful, pethet. Choke his confidence. Strangle his hope. Let it cease gasping and then die like a fish!”
“I did not say that!”
“You mistrust so easily. You do not even see it before you. Bah! Why should I linger? The road is barred before you. There is no safe road. The safe way to Winterrowd, the only safe way, is through the Bearden Muir. There! See the glistening waters? There – to the south – that is the town of Bridgewater. The hill to the north of the waters, that is Kennot Knoll. The water is the Bearden Muir. It floods when the rains come. Every year. There are few towns or villages, because few can survive its moods. They are the lowlands. The marshes. The Bearden Muir. Winterrowd lays beyond it. Look at the spindles. They show you the way. Fix your eyes on the course. It will lead you to Demont’s camp. Stray from it, and you will be taken by the king’s men. I have warned you.”
Colvin stepped closer. “What land do you hail from, Maderos? Are you from Hautland?”
There was a twinkle in Maderos’ eyes. “I hail from many lands, pethet. I have walked as far as Idumea perhaps. From thence came the seeds…and thus the tree. It is a good tree. Tasty fruit.”
“What Family are you?” Colvin asked again.
Again, a cunning smile. “Aye, Family I do have.”
“This girl led me to a cave near the abbey. I have seen the tomes you are keeping. I have read them.”
“Have you? And what think you of those tomes?”
“I should like to read more.”
“How bold are your words! How proud to think you will survive even a fortnight hence! You must survive first the slaughter at Winterrowd. That may yet be, if sister holds vigil that night for you. A vigil, do you hear?”
Colvin’s face twitched. He clenched his fists. “Sister?” he asked, nearly choking.
“Aye, sister indeed. You are a pethet. I mourn you. You will get no more counsel from me.” He turned to Lia and put his heavy, callused hand on her forehead, then brushed a finger down her cheek. “When you have learned to read, child, I will show you the abbey tomes.”
Her heart was full to bursting. He did not say if she learned to read. He had said when.
“Thank you, Maderos,” she whispered, bowing her head to him. Impulsively, she gave him a kiss on the cheek.
He smiled at her, a warm smile. “Bah, it is hardly a thing beseeching such a gift. You have set it in your heart to read. Many who serve the Medium wish it. That which you fix your heart to, believing with all your desire you will get, you will. ‘Tis not a prophecy. It is the way the Medium delivers to us the very things we think on. It brought you both together. I see that plainly. Now let the Medium take you hence. Trouble will shadow your steps. See below! Those are the sheriff’s men on the road. The murderers. They will ride back to Muirwood when they realize you are not fools to run headlong into the king’s army. They hunt you still, little sister. But the Bearden Muir will help hide you from them.”