He paused as he found himself free of the dress, and discovered Teresa was in the work area, watching him undress.
“I thought you were supposed to meet grandfather at the Doge’s palace,” she said, turning bright red upon being discovered.
“I’m on my way there now,” Marco answered, in too much of a hurry to be modest. He stripped off the rest of the garments he wore, then hastily pulled his old clothes back on. “Tell your mother I’m sorry I ripped the dress,” Marco told the silent girl, then he ran back out front. “We have to go, my lady,” he told Laris, and the two hustled quickly out of the shop with a wave of thanks to Abrianna.
Marco shouldered and jostled his way through the streets at a rapid pace until the Lady Laris called to him to slow down, and then panted for several minutes as they walked at a slower pace.
The pair of them turned a familiar corner and came upon the large crowd that filled the great plaza in front of the Doge’s palace.
“What is all of this about?” Laris asked.
Marco took her hand and began to lead her forward. “The people are upset by the attitude the Doge is displaying, and they’re here to support my cause,” he answered, as they reached the first of the cheery trees and drew closer to the gate.
“Let us through,” Marco bellowed to the people he needed to pass, and together the two leaders made it to the front, where the crowd opened up and revealed a treacherous scene.
The palace gates were opening, and the Guards were coming out.
“Since their hero is not here, place all these troublemakers under arrest, to teach them a lesson,” the Laris impostor was giving orders as if she were an officer in charge of the platoon.
“Since their friend is here, you will leave them alone,” Marco shouted as he stepped forth.
“And since the true Lady Laris is here, you will arrest that impostor who has misled and lied to the Doge!” he added, holding Laris’s hand high to draw attention to the arrival of the woman.
“Marco, you made it!” Sty shouted with glee, standing with Algornia in front of a small band of alchemists who had returned to the palace once again.
Marco watched as the impostor’s face grew dark with rage, and her stripes momentarily came into view.
“How did she get loose?” the impostor shouted at her personal guards. “Kill her!” she ordered.
The Palace Guards looked at the impostor Laris in shock. “Which of you is the true Lady?” asked their leader, the one who had spoken to Marco before. He hesitated to move as the impostor’s guards stormed out towards Marco and Laris, drawing knives from hidden pockets in their garments.
“No!” Marco shouted. He raised his hand and waved it around in a circle over his head as it glowed, and then bolts of energy flew out from his fingers and struck the cherry trees that were standing nearby.
People in the crowd around them shrieked in terror, as the trees responded by lifting their roots and striding forward towards the gates. Each of several trees moved towards the conflict, then lowered their branches and snagged two of the attacking guards, lifting them off the ground to remove them from the conflict.
Marco stepped forward with his sword held in his other hand, and shielded Laris from the remaining two attackers, who looked with concern at the approaching trees. One of the women panicked, and threw her knife hastily, but Marco’s enchanted sword twisted to meet the blade in midair and knock it to the ground. Two of the alchemists rushed at her and tackled her to the ground, as Marco ran at the remaining guard, and used a deft twist of his blade to knock the knife from her hands as well.
“Lady Laris,” Marco called back to the real leader of the temple, “come forward and meet the woman who had you bound and hidden, mistreated while she attempted to take your spot and work against the will of your order.”
“You will not succeed!” the impostor shouted at Marco. “You may have ended this phase of my efforts, but you’ll not be able to undo this!” she shouted angrily, as she pointed a finger at a majestic tower that rose overhead from the center of the palace behind her. A bolt of energy flew from her fingers, a sizzling green flash that struck the tower with a resounding boom. A network of wide, visible cracks appeared in the tower, and stones and bricks rained down, shaken loose, as the lofty portion of the palace appeared ready to collapse.
“Stop!” Marco screamed at her, real heat and fury radiating from him. He acted impulsively, and pointed at the tower, causing a beam of energy to radiate upwards toward the teetering structure, and as the beam flew it thinned and widened, becoming a vast, ethereal ribbon that wrapped itself around and around and around the structure, strengthening it and preventing it from toppling over.
He ceased his aid to the tower, and looked at the sorceress, then fired a bolt directly at her.
She stepped back from the gates and waved her arms dramatically over her head, creating a protective dome that completely surrounded her, and making his bolt deflect upward into the sky.
“Get into the palace and make sure they evacuate that tower immediately!” Algornia said to the Palace Guard who stood nearest to him, shaking the man’s shoulder to rouse him out of his astonished trance.
The man grabbed a couple of his companions and they ran towards the palace doors.
Marco fired another bolt, and another, and another at the sorceress, trying to penetrate her shield. Each bolt made the green shield momentarily turn blue, but it returned to its original strength, while Marco began to feel weakened from all the incredible things he was doing, without even knowing what or how to do them.
“A young sorcerer, running out of power,” the impostor taunted him. “A few more minutes and I’ll be able to walk out of here,” she started walking towards Marco, causing those few who still remained in the area to scramble quickly away.
“What if I show you how foolish you are to waste your energy so fruitlessly?” she asked. “What if I did this?” she walked towards Algornia, who stood his ground, and as her shield touched him, he was thrown through the air and landed hard on the pavement. “See, I can push around your foolish old man,” she laughed cruelly.
Marco flew into such a rage that without thinking about what to do, he pointed up at the sky, and then lowered his hands, the palms flat. A whooshing sound descended from the sky, and the air overhead seemed to shimmer and darken just seconds before the full weight of a vast column of condensed air fell upon the sorceress’s dome.
She laughed at the first contact, as the air struck her dome with an audible thud, and the dome momentarily turned blue, then returned to green. Marco raised his hands and lowered them again, and the dome turned blue once again, while the top of it flattened out from being pressed down. Marco gestured again, and the dome sank further. The whooshing sound of dropping air increased and her dome remained an injured blue, while a breeze started to blow around the plaza, knocking over those who were close by, wildly whipping the leaves of the cherry trees, and causing the captive guards in the trees to bang against the branches and trunk.
The top of the blue dome descended further, and the sorceress inside sank to her knees as the space decreased and her power was overwhelmed by Marco’s raw fury.
“No, stop!” she cried. “I can help you!”
Marco lifted his hands a final time, and lowered them again. Winds like a horrific storm roared all around him and the sorceress. There was a suddenly popping sound, and the dome disappeared, as the sorceress was driven violently against the pavement, accompanied by the sickening sound of the bones in her body snapping and breaking from the pressure.
Marco stood and turned his hands so the palms faced upwards, then lifted them, and the turbulence disappeared in a matter of moments. The darkness overhead from the compressed atmosphere slowly lightened, and a glow that had existed around Marco dimmed and disappeared. Marco looked at the dead sorceress with satisfaction, then closed his eyes and collapsed unconscious.
Chapter 23 – Arrival in Reme
When Marc
o awoke, Penelope was gently sponging his forehead with a wet sponge.
“Grace and Hope and Joy, and even her Ladyship, tell me that we met before, but I don’t remember a thing,” she told Marco conversationally. “It’s the strangest sensation.”
Marco’s hand reached up to grab hers to put an end to the sponging.
“You were very kind to me,” he told her. “Thank you.”
“Where are we?” he asked, looking up at the ornate ceiling overhead in the spacious room. As he asked the question there came the sound of hammering, and he vaguely sensed that he had heard the sound in his sleep.
“We’re in the Doge’s Palace,” Penelope answered. “The Lady Laris had you carried in here immediately after you passed out, after you apparently crushed a sorceress with nothing but the air! And then she sent for me to help care for you.”
“How long have we been here?” Marco asked.
“Just over a day,” the girl told him. She stood up. “How do you feel? Do you want anything? Can I help you?
“I have to go report that you’re awake,” she said. “I’ll be right back, or that other girl will be,” she frowned.
“No, I don’t need anything. What other girl?” Marco asked confused.
“The one who is with the old man; I think her name is Teresa,” Penelope told him. “Don’t go anywhere: I’ll be right back,” she said as she scooted out a door and disappeared.
Marco immediately got off the mattress and looked for the bedpan, then discovered that the room actually had a plumbed restroom. He returned to his bed just in time, as the door opened when Algornia, Sty, Teresa, and another man all entered the room.
“Your Grace,” the man said, “it’s so good to see you awake.”
“Good morning your grace,” Sty said with a florid bow.
“Hello your grace, thank you for your assistance and your display yesterday,” Algornia said as he too gave a slight bow.
Marco looked at Teresa expectantly, a faint smile playing on his lips. His title as Marquess of Sant Jeroni had evidently been mentioned, and so he was being treated as a nobleman, which meant that Teresa would have to curtsey to him.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fine,” she said in an exasperated tone. She dropped a bob of a curtsy; “your grace,” she muttered defiantly.
“Please stay abed and rest,” the stranger said. “I am the Doge of the Lion City, and I am humbly grateful to you for having set the Lady Laris free, as well as for having preserved the tower and all the palace in the vicinity,” he told Marco. “I understand you have an urgent request, and I will be happy to meet with you as soon as possible to discuss that; get yourself healed up, and then come see me.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” the man made another bow, and left the room.
“Well, that was impressive,” Sty said as the remaining trio moved closer to Marco. “I’ve never seen the Doge bow to any man before.” Marco heard more hammering taking place.
“You’ve never seen him meet a sorcerer who crushed an opponent with a column of air, either. He had good reason to be polite,” Algornia said wryly.
“I’m confident that’s true,” Sty agreed.
“How do you feel Marco?” Teresa asked
“Fine, absolutely fine,” he answered. “I just need some clothes, and then I need to talk to the Doge. I’ve been delayed here in the Lion City longer than I should have. And I don’t know what trouble may be waiting in Nappanee.
“Did you interrogate the guards who served the sorceress?” Marco asked. “Did they tell you anything about where they came from?”
“They come from Athens,” Algornia replied. “They were recruited from the streets there by the sorceress herself when the Docleateans conquered the city.”
“I’ll go into the city to get some clothes for you,” Sty said. “I’ll charge them to the Doge’s account – he won’t mind,” the alchemist said, then left the room.
Another round of hammering began.
“What is that noise?” Marco asked. “It’s happening constantly!”
“The Doge has an army of repairmen trying to fix the palace tower,” Teresa answered.
“No one in the palace is sleeping very well right now; the Doge wants everything fixed immediately, before you remove the support you gave the tower,” Algornia said, as he stepped over to the window and moved the curtains to look out.
Marco recollected the energy he had somehow applied to the tower. “It’s still there?” he asked in wonder. Regardless of Teresa’s presence, he grabbed the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around himself as he walked over to look out the window.
The blanket of energy did still circle the upper portions of the tower, and numerous workers scrambled around the tower on flimsy-looking scaffolding, seeking to make repairs where the masonry was damaged below the glowing blanket.
“That was quite a remarkable feat, Marco,” Algornia said.
“I don’t know how I did it,” Marco said softly as he stared out the window. “I was so angry that I just made things happen without thinking.”
“I’m glad you weren’t angry at me,” Algornia smiled. “But you would be advised to learn how to do such things with forethought and planning, though I don’t know any friendly sorcerers who can tutor you.”
“There is one,” Marco answered, “the Lady Iasco, and I’ll meet her again in Malta.” He turned and walked back to the bed, where he lay down to rest.
“We’ll leave you now; come along, Teresa,” Algornia offered, and the door shut behind them, leaving Marco in peace, as he quickly fell asleep again.
The next day, dressed in the fine robes that Sty had sent to him, Marco had a private audience with the Doge, and relayed Iasco’s request for troops and plans to liberate Athens.
“Of course you’ll have our troops,” the Doge said. “And you’re going to Nappanee next? Would you like to have my emissary travel to the court with you, to introduce you to the Grand Prince? He’s my wife’s cousin by marriage.”
And so the following day, Marco left the Lion City, leaving atop a horse instead of by sea or walking, accompanied by the Count Colonna, the Doge’s representative from his court, and two servants of the Count. The Count was an older man, one who immediately radiated a sense of seriousness; Marco realized he was the perfect choice to give credibility to Marco’s planned visit and request in the foreign court.
Count Colonna was a heavyset man with a goatee that gave him a perpetually amused look, making every expression of his face appear as though a smile were about to burst through. He was amused by the idea of a boy of Marco’s age serving as an ambassador, and he quizzed Marco as they began their ride through the countryside.
“So you are an ambassador for a cult that you do not belong to? Is that correct?” Colonna asked when they were only a little ways out of town.
“Well, that’s technically true,” Marco began, wondering how to best answer the question. “But I’m really more of the person who’s doing the job for Lady Iasco.”
“Lady Laris claims that she received a note from Iasco, confirming that she has come back to life. Does that happen often?” Colonna inquired.
“No, not at all,” Marco began to answer, then saw a real smile on the Count’s face.
The Count gently coaxed Marco into telling his story, bit by bit over the course of their four days ride down to Reme, the great city that was the home of the Holy Father, the head of all the churches and cults and temples that had existed in Clovis’s old empire. They arrived in Reme in mid-afternoon, and Colonna insisted that they stay in a luxurious hotel in the center of the city. “It’s the only place I stay when in Reme,” he declared.
“So you’ve visited the great cathedral at Compostela?” he asked Marco after they checked in. “Then you’ll certainly want to take a tour of Saint Peter’s Basilica,” Colonna urged Marco. “We can go take a quick look around the building before dinner,” he proposed.
They rode their horses to the entrance of t
he basilica grounds, for the corpulent Colonna preferred not to walk. Inside the colonnaded entrance to the grounds, Colonna led Marco to a non-descript doorway in an auxiliary building, and asked for Brother Gaspar.
“My Lord!” the friar exclaimed when he arrived a few minutes later. “What brings you to visit us?”
“My young friend has been to the cathedral at Compostela, and raves about its beauty,” Colonna embellished. “I thought he should have a quick tour of the basilica in order to see its loveliness as well.”
“Of course, of course,” Gaspar enthusiastically answered. “Compostela is fine enough of course, but the basilica here? We are second to none – our beauty glorifies God in heaven, as you’ll see. Come along and we’ll start our tour immediately, for there’s so much to see we don’t have time to dally. We won’t see it all of course, but you’ll have a notion of how extraordinary the basilica is,” the friar babbled continuously as he held the door open.
Together, the small group entered and began to walk within the marble walls of the basilica. It was a glorious building, much brighter than the interior of the cathedral at Compostela, with marble and whitewashing causing sunbeams to reflect repeatedly, whether they were white or tinted from passage through stained glass. The interior had few of the side chapels and niches that Compostela had as well, but it had long, straight lines of sight that allowed large multitudes to observe the pulpit.
Gaspar led them through the nave to the choir that was east of it, where statuary and carved wooden stalls created a different set of surroundings. “There are some beautiful paintings up in the bell tower,” the guide said.
“I’m not going to climb up there, but if Marco’s young legs wish to go see your paintings, I’ll be happy to wait down here and listen to the music,” Colonna offered as he saw a group of young boys in robes begin to file into the choir seating area. Marco gave a quick nod of agreement, and Gaspar gladly led him up the staircase that was built inside the limestone structure of the tower.
Scarlet From Gold (Book 3) Page 29
