The king had threatened to march an army to Muirwood to take her by force, thereby breaking another maston oath, but the noble Families of the realm refused to acquiesce or obey the summons should he choose to make good on his threat. More and more of the ancient Families withdrew from court and stayed in their own Hundreds. In their place, a web of courtiers had emerged to insinuate themselves into her father’s good graces and sow discord in his ears. Lady Deorwynn’s Family were chief among these.
So it had been arranged for the trial to take place at Muirwood itself, where the Aldermaston of Muirwood would preside over it. Maia would have given anything to attend. The bitter feelings between her parents were creating a rift in the kingdom. It was doing the same thing to her heart.
She stared out the windows, enormous dread weighing down on her, and watched as a single rider entered the castle bailey down below. Her heart shuddered with the premonition of the news, and she set down the tome and began to pace the tower, wringing her hands and feeling sick enough to vomit.
There was a commotion on the stairs below, and she heard the clud of many boots ascending the tower. Were these soldiers coming to arrest her? She felt herself go pale with fear, and she tugged at her sleeve nervously. Before she had the chance to act, the door opened. She saw the felt hats of the soldiers first, followed by the maston swords belted to their waists. They were knights! She stared at them in surprise, and some of them gave her puzzled looks in return.
“What are you doing here, Lady Maia?” one of them asked.
“Who is it?” came a voice from lower down the stairwell.
“The king’s daughter.”
Maia swallowed as a middle-aged man reached the top of the steps. He wore a fine fur cloak, a green satin doublet, and—most importantly—the gold chain of the office of chancellor around his neck. Her eyes widened. What had become of her friend?
“Greetings, Lady Maia,” the newcomer said, bowing quickly. “Ah, here to welcome me to my chamber.”
“My lord, forgive me,” she stuttered, her mind whirling end over end. “I was anticipating—”
“Walraven’s return, no doubt. Yes, you were close to him, I daresay. He was fond of you as well, to be sure. Well, this creates an awkward moment, but we will survive it. Your father has named me as lord chancellor of the realm.”
She stared at him in blank shock.
He smiled benignly at her look. “We have not met, Lady Maia, but let me remedy that. I am Tomas Morton.”
“I know you by reputation, my lord,” Maia said, surprised. “You are a lawyer in the city and famous for your writings on ancient maston customs. You wrote a treatise on the reign of Lia Demont and the unified kingdom she ruled when the mastons fled these shores.”
He smiled at the tribute and bowed again. “No doubt your highness has not read the book yourself, as women are forbidden to read, but I have sympathy for you there, for Lia Demont was not allowed to read until she was older.”
“It was read to me,” Maia said sheepishly. It was a half lie. She had read the book herself too.
“Well, perhaps we can discuss it someday. But greetings aside, I did not expect to find you up here upon my return from the trial at Muirwood.”
“You were there?” Maia pressed.
“Of course. That is where the king appointed me his new chancellor. I am sorry to bring evil tidings to you, Lady Maia. Your father has ordered the expulsion of the Dochte Mandar from Comoros. Immediately. Irrevocably. Illegally, I might add, but such it is.”
Maia sat down on the window seat she had so often occupied in her childhood, unable to summon the presence of mind to speak.
“You are amazed, to be sure,” Chancellor Morton said.
“I am,” Maia whispered. She looked up at him and then swept her gaze over the knight-mastons who had gathered around them.
“Let me explain, as best I can, my lady.” Before continuing, he wiped his mouth and adjusted his own felt hat, as if he were loath to relive the experience. “The trial did not go as your father had hoped,” he finally said. “Queen Catrin, your mother, refused to accept the authority of the court or its legal mandate to disinherit her. She was defiant, but very humble, and she begged her husband to reconsider his rash desires.” He tapped his lips, growing silent. “I tell you, my lady, she was very convincing. She spoke with poise and passion, warning all that a great calamity would befall the kingdoms if your father’s breach of the maston decrees continued unchecked. On her knees, she begged your father’s pardon and committed herself to overlook his transgressions and mend the marriage.” His voice grew quiet. “My lady, the Medium was there so powerfully, we all felt it. We sensed the danger brooding in the room. She said we have fallen away from the maston rites, that we have forgotten our duty to rebuild the abbeys. She said we have been blinded by the machinations of the Dochte Mandar, who pit the kingdoms against one another and seek to destroy unity through intrigue.”