The Wretched of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood)
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In the ancient and mystical land of Muirwood, Lia has known only a life of servitude. Labeled a “wretched,” an outcast unwanted and unworthy of respect, Lia is forbidden to realize her dream to read or write. All but doomed, her days are spent toiling away as a kitchen slave under the charge of the Aldermaston, the Abbey’s watchful overseer. But when an injured squire named Colvin is abandoned at the kitchen’s doorstep, an opportunity arises. The nefarious Sheriff Almaguer soon starts a manhunt for Colvin, and Lia conspires to hide Colvin and change her fate. In the midst of a land torn by a treacherous war between a ruthless king and a rebel army, Lia finds herself on an ominous journey that will push her to wonder if her own hidden magic is enough to set things right. At once captivating, mysterious, and magic-infused, The Wretched of Muirwood takes the classic fantasy adventure and paints it with a story instantly epic, and yet, all its own.
faced the sheriff. “Almaguer, you violated my hospitality. How dare you.” The light from the orb in his hand made the sheriff wince as it flashed brighter. “I was seeking answers from her, Aldermaston. Nothing more. That is my duty to our king.” “My duty is to protect the inhabitants of Muirwood Abbey. I cannot tolerate anyone polluting the protection these grounds provide. They shield every pilgrim soul from any kingdom. The king will learn how you have abrogated your duties. You will be
he cared for the horse. It looked rested and brushed and there were oats for it still.” “So are we going to tell the Aldermaston now?” “Before we put the orb back in his chamber? You are daft, Sowe, truly. I am glad we did not need it.” “So when will we tell him? Tonight?” “Quit worrying, Sowe. Now that he is gone, you should feel more easy. Why worry the Aldermaston about it at all?” “I should not, but I do worry. I am nervous about what will happen. We should tell him, Lia.” “And make him
her palm. The older sister rushed over to a coffer and knelt by it, sorting through the contents. How was she going to get Colvin out of the Pilgrim? Some of the sheriff’s men would possibly recognize her. What could she do? She was only a wretched. What could she possibly do to save him? Frantic, fearing she would be too late, she quickly searched the kitchen, casting her gaze at the cauldrons in the pits, the spoons and pans dangling from hooks in a ceiling sconce. Breathing in through her
valerianum?” Lia asked in a soft voice. It was an herb Pasqua used when she could not fall asleep, or when someone else needed the remedy. Too much of it in her tea, and she overslept the next morning. Sometimes Lia wondered if she did it like that on purpose. The cook started, her eyes widening as she realized what Lia had in mind. “Yes…but it is pungent…like cheese…they would taste it…” “The cider,” Lia said, “is sweet and strong.” “You are right,” the cook said, nodding. She gave Lia a hard
near her, his arm pillowing his neck. His mouth was open a little, his face spattered and bruised, lips brittle with scabs. She was still exhausted, but she managed to rise and cover his body with her cloak. He had slept every night without a blanket. Though she had seen him shiver, he never complained of being cold. Nestling closer to him, but not touching him, she shut her eyes again and fell asleep with hardly a thought. When she awoke again, it was day. Her strength had returned, so she