The Blight of Muirwood

“You prune the entire vineyard?” Ellowyn asked timidly.

“Yes. The harvest is worth the work. You could eat these now, but they would not be sweet enough. Culling is an important process. Look at this grape. It will be a strong one. Like you. When it fully ripens.”

“The Medium does not listen to me,” Ellowyn said softly. “I mean…I cannot even hear it. It is my fault.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because I am always fearful. Everything I have been told, the things you have told me, it frightens me to death. I did not realize how severe the Blight will be. I wish I could have warned my friends before it was too late for them. Before all the Abbeys have fallen.”

“Have you ever seen a forest burn, child?”

“I have not.”

“There is nothing left but char and ash. Everything left behind is soulless and void. There is nothing living – or at least that is how it seems. But from the ashes and from the char, new seeds sprout and grow. The forest renews itself. It takes time, but it happens. There is both good and evil in this world. If we did not intervene here, the grapes would all turn wild. They would all become sour, you see. The Blight is merely a culling. A chance for a rebirth. Let me compare what I told you about the Abbeys burning to the vines that have grown so wild and unruly, so untamed that only fire will cleanse the land to begin anew. The Medium curses and blesses. The Blight that is coming…it will destroy everything, much like the fire in the woods I mentioned. After the Abbeys are razed, the Blight will come. That is why you must go far from here – to a land of safety. In the ships.”

“Where the other Pry-rians have gone,” Ellowyn stated simply. “It is far across the sea. Do you know where?”

“No. I will not be going, you see.”

“But why? If you know the Blight is coming, why cannot you leave as you warn others to?”

Lia could hear the little snips and cuts and fruit fall into the apron. “Because I am an Aldermaston. Tintern is my Abbey, my responsibility, my home. Until another comes to release me, I cannot leave it. One who has authority to do so. And I must stay to warn others. To give them a chance to escape before it is too late. Before the last ships sails.”

Ellowyn was quiet for a moment. “So you will…die?”

There was a short little laugh. “We will all die eventually, child. I am worth no more than this little grape. As long as I try to be a sweet one, that is all that I care to do. All the servants and learners have gone already. I would not keep any one of them behind, not when they could save themselves. The final ships are being built, and the rest of the Pry-rians will be told. They will walk away from their lands, walk away from their plows, walk away from their corn. When the time comes, they will all leave.”

“Except for you?”

“And the other Aldermastons who will not forsake their oaths. So much is changing in the world. So much attention on the rights and duties of rank. It may be several years before the Blight destroys everyone. It may happen much sooner. Those Aldermastons who have spoken of it, have seen it in vision, have called it the Black Death. A plague that cannot be stopped. A plague that will kill everyone touched by it. A plague with no cure. In another world, Idumea even, it was a flood of water. Only eight souls believed in the warning. The rest were killed by water. But that was a very wicked world. There are many who believe the warning now. Many who are hewing wood to build ships to sail away. As it gets closer, fewer will believe. That is the way of things.”

Lia’s heart was pounding. She could see the Aldermaston and Ellowyn through the gaps in the vines. Her heart was burning inside her chest and tears stung her eyes. She knew that what he was saying was true. The Medium burned its truthfulness into her heart.

The Aldermaston stopped. She saw his head bow in concentration. Then he turned and looked her way. “There is someone listening to us.” His voice shifted to Pry-rian. “Who is there?”

Lia rose from her crouch at the same time as the Aldermaston did, and their eyes met over the row of plump grapes. His eyes were gray and curious, wary. His bearded mouth was frowning – not with anger but concentration. He stared at her hard, his eyes blinking rapidly when he saw her.

His language remained Pry-rian. “Who are you, child?”

Ellowyn rose as well and looked at her with shock. “Lia!” she gasped.

Lia replied in his language, the language of her ancestors. “I must speak with you, Aldermaston. The Medium has brought me here. Brought me to you. I needed to hear what you were saying. I think you are the only one who can read this for me? Will you?”