- Ellowyn Demont of Dochte Abbey

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CHAPTER SIX:

Lambeth Manor

Lia and Kieran followed Reome to Lambeth manor, a stone fortress built in the heart of a rundown neighborhood in the center of the Stews. The grounds were blocked by ivy-fed stone, tipped with spikes but there were tree branches visible within, revealing some open inner area beyond the walls. The manor had a large main keep that rose up in the north apex of the grounds, but it was not as imposing as the citadel of Pent Tower. Still, it was impossible to see inside the grounds of Lambeth and as Reome approached one of the porter doors at the rear, Lia motioned for Kieran to hold back.

“What are you going to do?” Kieran asked.

“Talk to her and learn what I can. Then I will take her shawl and basket and go inside.”

The look he gave her was beyond astonished. “That is your entire plan?”

“I am not asking you to go with me.”

“You are asking to be caught or killed,” he said, seething. “We have found Lambeth. Let us study it for several days to learn their routines, their faces, their weaknesses…”

Save Marciana.

The jolt from the Medium was so strong and insisting it made her eyes blur with tears. She saw Reome reaching for the knocker and knew she had to act.

Glaring at Kieran, she whispered, “If you do not wait for me, I will understand. But the Medium bids me do this.”

Lia summoned her courage and advanced, closing the distance before Reome knocked. “So this is where you live now?”

Startled, Reome jerked around and stared at Lia in surprise. It was clear she had recognized Lia’s voice. “What are you doing in Comoros?” Her eyes betrayed loathing as well as fear. “Is he paying you as well?”

Lia noticed Reome hug the basket protectively and had a suspicion. She reached for the wicker rim and lifted the blanket covering the wet contents. Within the basket were several green gowns, too fancy and expensive to belong to Reome. The workmanship showed a master seamstress and the color was the kind that Marciana preferred.

“She is here, Reome,” Lia said. “This is where Dieyre is keeping Marciana.”

Reome bit her lip. “Who sent you? The Aldermaston?”

Lia nodded.

“I hate that old man. I…I like it much better here than Muirwood.” Her eyes were filling with tears.

“In the Stews? Reome…this is not your home. Dieyre escaped the tower last night. Did he come back? Is he here now?”

Reome still clutched the basket to her stomach, but she wiped tears on her arm. “No. He is in Dahomey. That is where…why are you here? How did you find me?”

“I am a hunter, Reome. You always teased me about that. I have hunted Colvin’s sister.”

“I must go inside,” Reome said, trying to pull away, but Lia gripped the edge of the basket tightly.

“What did Dieyre promise you?” Lia asked.

Reome showed her teeth. “I do not have to answer to you. This is where I work. If I do not return, they will look for me.”

Lia stepped closer, pitching her voice lower. “Did he promise he would claim the baby, Reome? Or will you abandon it as a wretched as you were abandoned?”

The look in Reome’s eyes was haunted. It spoke of misery, of sleepless nights, of tortured hopes. She struggled with her emotions, her face contorting with pain.

“How did you know that?” Reome whispered faintly. She trembled, her skin going pale. “I have told no one save him.”

Lia touched Reome’s arm. “Go back to Muirwood.”

Reome’s lip trembled. Tears dribbled down her cheeks. “He will not…take me back…not after all I have done.”

Lia was not sure if she meant the local blacksmith or the Aldermaston. “If you stay in Comoros, you will die. So will the babe. It is true, Reome. You must believe me. A great sickness is coming. It will sweep over every land, every kingdom. There is only safety in Muirwood. The Aldermaston will take you back. I promise you he will. Did Dieyre promise to bring you to Dahomey?”

Reome sniffled and nodded. “He has a manor there. Better than this one. He promised I would never work. That I could live there and raise the child. I was told he sent for me. That I would leave on a ship. Tonight.”

Lia angered at the lie. She knew the truth as soon as Reome had spoken. She saw it flash in her mind like a blaze of lightning. “No. He will keep you here. You are the decoy. It is Marciana who is leaving tonight in your place. You are her disguise. Do you see my friend over there? The tall one in the shadows? He will show you a safe place to go. Where are they hiding her? In the keep?”