Free The Blight of Muirwood by Jeff Wheeler

kitchen, as she went about her duties that day, she wondered what Marciana would be like. Wondering made her worry. Most learners were wealthy and spoiled, and only the rare ones like Duerden treated wretcheds with any respect. Each year, only a dozen or so new learners joined the Abbey and even fewer who fully completed the training. Fewer still who earned the rank of maston. Was Marciana selfish and spiteful, like Reome? Was she timid like Sowe? Was she like Colvin when she had first met him, always on the verge of anger and never bothering to mask his contempt? She hoped not. But still, she worried.
    As evening came, and though she knew they were waiting for her in the kitchen, she had to finish walking the grounds. With Martin gone, she walked in measured steps, patiently, looking for any sign of passage. She checked the nearer shore of the fish pond, skirted the Cider Orchard because she had already checked it after visiting with Colvin, then came around to test the gate locks before returning to the kitchen. Her stomach was a hive of bees by the time she approached the door to the kitchen. What had Colvin told Marciana and Ellowyn about her?
    She paused for a moment at the threshold, took a deep breath, and pulled on the handle. The moment would linger in her memory. There was Pasqua, in the middle, teaching everyone to make Gooseberry Fool.
    “Whip it harder, like Sowe is. Yes, firm strokes. Yes, the sugar makes it sweet. There is the cream. Like Sowe, faster. Where are the spoons? Edmon, the spoons. Over there. We can share from the bowl.”
    The opened door revealed both Sowe and Bryn in their aprons and each clutching a bowl. Bryn was trying to match the strokes of Sowe, but could not do it without spilling it. Two other finely dressed girls were nearby, watching the mixture happen.
    “There she is!” said one of the girls, a smile brightening her face. She was as tall as Sowe, as slender and graceful as a swan. Her golden hair was crowned with a braided coil and her dress – it was as richly textured as the best in Muirwood, a deep green – like a velvet forest in the spring. Instead of a girdle, she wore a vest with thin lacings up the front. The sleeves were wide and pointed, barely covering her arms with an intricate stitching lining for the trim. There were no jeweled chokers or rings or necklaces, only a pendant with a deep azure stone set into it. Her arms and wrists were thin, her fingers delicate. She was beautiful and the beauty also shone from her eyes.
    She approached swiftly and embraced Lia as if they had known each other all their lives. Lia was taller, slightly, and felt filthy compared to her having just walked the grounds.
    “I am Marciana,” she said, taking Lia’s hands in hers, as if she could care less about the dirt and brush clinging to her hair. “Colvin has told me so much about you, I would have recognized you without the hunter’s garb. Please, you must be famished! Pasqua has been teaching us one of her naughty desserts. I love Gooseberry Fool. Did you find the spoons, Edmon?”
    “At your service, as always, Ciana. Hello, Lia. I am a fool for Gooseberry Fool myself. There is something about the fruit in this Hundred. The Gooseberries are only slightly tart…you can eat them by the handful. And the apples! By Idumea, they are delicious! I had never tasted Muirwood apples before coming here. Had you, Colvin?”
    Lia glanced at Colvin, feeling overwhelmed by Marciana’s exuberant welcome, and their eyes met. Muirwood apples had been their only food in the Bearden Muir.
    “They are quite good,” he said simply, their eyes flashing with the shared secret. But he said nothing further.
    The other girl hovering near Colvin had reddish-bronze hair and could not have been a starker contrast to Marciana. Colvin’s sister had all the confidence of a girl who had been raised in privilege, part of a Family who adored her, and with the good looks and charms that had never failed to