Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set)

by L. M. Roth

  “What is this you speak of so lightly, Lucius? For it does not seem to me that you particularly value your legacy if you have not even bothered to prepare for the day when it shall be yours.”

  Lucius laughed aloud.

  “Good Antonius! There is naught to worry about! I shall have my father’s Sword, one that he has prized since the days of his youth. It is called Logos, and it is the most beautiful Sword you have ever seen! But, it must never be used in violence, my father says. That was the word of admonition that was spoken to him when it was presented to him as a gift.”

  “But, I do not understand,” Antonius remarked, “why can you not use it? Is that not what a sword is for; to carry into battle?”

  “This Sword is special, Antonius. For when you have need of an answer to a dilemma, the solution will appear on its blade. It is true; do not look at me like that! I have seen it with my own eyes; words appear on the blade when you ask it a question. And you are to do what the words tell you to do.”

  “That is astounding! I should love to see this Sword, Lucius. Do you think if I asked your father that he would show it to me?”

  “He might,” said Lucius with an air of complacence. “But as you are confined to your bed, perhaps I could bring it tomorrow and show it to you myself. I am sure there would be no harm.”

  “Oh, I should love that, Lucius! Tomorrow then!”

  “Tomorrow then!”

  So absorbed were they in their conversation that they did not see the shadow that darkened the slight gap in the door, nor hear the trod of a stealthy step that just as quickly faded from their hearing.

  Chapter XXVII

  The Rebellion

  “I shall be traveling within the month to meet you in Solone,” her mother’s letter ran. “It will be earlier than we anticipated bringing you to Lycenium, but in view of what happened with that wild girl who eloped with a young man, I do not feel that the class of girls you are keeping company with is healthy for you, and I do not intend to leave you in such company a moment longer than is possible.”

  Felicia crumpled up the missive and threw it on the ground. Then she flung herself down after it. Her fists pounded the ground as howls of rage erupted from her throat. No! Her mother had promised she could stay a year, and that was not complete until July. She would not go before the year was up, she would not!

  Was it her fault that Hypatia had run away with a young man? No, it was not! Why, therefore, should she be punished for it? She would not share in the guilt for such a scandal. To expect her to do so would be to violate the very tenets that Alexandrians held to of grace and mercy. And Felicia had had no involvement in the incident with Hypatia, making Tullia’s precaution ludicrous in the eyes of her daughter.

  And as for her mother’s comment about the class of girls that she was keeping company with, how like her that was! That came straight out of Grandmother Drusilla’s mouth that did, and there was no bigger snob in all of Lycenium than her! Did they not remember that there was no class distinction to Alexandrians? All were equal in the sight of Dominio, a lesson her father told her once that he learned long ago.

  She recalled the stories he had told her of his friend Dag, a wild man from the north, and as true a friend and as great a man as any to be found in all the world. His father’s friends in Valerium and Lycenium would no doubt look upon him with scorn, but Dag was a man that he was proud to call his friend. He looked as fearsome as a bear, but was as gentle as a dove. And what a man to depend on in trouble! There was none better.

  Felicia had met this man on a few rare occasions when he visited her father in Valerium, and she was at first overawed by his towering height and his intimidating appearance. It was true, however, that he was kind and gentle, and she soon grew at ease in his presence. Indeed, she found him to be a refreshing fragrance of something solid and earthy in the vapid aristocratic atmosphere of Potentus, where so many curried for favor with the Emperor, and the noble ladies vied with one another to see who could host the most illustrious gatherings based on the number of notables who attended.

  She remembered that Dag lived with his family in Eirinia, another place renowned for wild inhabitants. And strange legends and tales. With a shudder, she recalled some of the most terrifying. The spirit of a woman who roamed after dark, crying for her dead child, and who might snatch another woman’s baby to replace the one she lost. The demon creature that lay in wait for any hapless enough to cross its path. Those unfortunate to do so were never seen again. It was little wonder that the natives made sure to be home by nightfall, where they barred their doors and did not emerge until after the sun had risen…

  Of course, her father had told her that in the villages of Leith and Annick where Dag and his friends lived, there was nothing to fear, Dag having evicted every spirit within fifty miles after he arrived there. No demon or spirit would dare cross the path of such an intrepid man she was sure. What a man he must be if all the tales about him were true! And how she would love to see Eirinia!

  She sighed and reluctantly came back to her present dilemma. How could her mother break her promise to permit her to stay a year in Solone? Had she not done everything that was asked of her? Was it fair to penalize her for what Hypatia did? And what could she do about it?

  She was interrupted from her brooding by the presence of Xanthe. Her friend took one look at her face and slowed her approach, carefully peering closer into Felicia’s eyes to determine whether it was safe to come nearer.

  “Well, is the volcano nearing eruption, or are the natives safe for the present time?” Xanthe inquired with one hand on her robe, prepared for flight should the necessity occur.

  “Oh, really; life is too cruel!” Felicia huffed.

  “Why, what is the matter, Felicia?” Xanthe inquired as a frown of concern wrinkled her smooth young brow.

  For answer Felicia picked up the letter from the ground and tossed it to her friend.

  “Read this and you will understand all.”

  Xanthe quickly skimmed through the contents, murmuring as she did so. When she finished she handed the letter back to Felicia and abruptly sat down beside her on a nearby rock.

  “I see,” was all she had to offer in condolence. “What is to be done?”

  “Something must be done! For I shall not go with her to Lycenium. She promised me a year in Solone, and I will have that year if I have to do something about it myself!”

  “But what can you do, Felicia? You are only seventeen, far too young to have any say in the matter. Your parents can drag you forcibly back to Lycenium and you could do nothing to stop them.”

  “Could I not?” Felicia fumed with mounting indignation. “They can not very well drag me anywhere if I am not here to be taken, now can they?”

  Xanthe gasped.

  “What do you mean? Would you run away?”

  In spite of the rules of obedience and honoring parents, Xanthe was excited and her eyes sparkled in spite of her attempts to subdue herself. Felicia continued to surprise her with her unpredictable behavior. Never would she have thought this girl a daughter of the aristocracy!

  “Yes! Yes, I would run away! For she promised and she is breaking that promise. I do not believe it is because of Hypatia at all: she knows in her heart that I do not want to go to Lycenium under any circumstances and Hypatia’s escapade is but an excuse to make me go to Lycenium earlier than we agreed. She is my mother: she senses that I do not want to go at all, and she fears if I stay here any longer I shall refuse to go with her when she comes.”

  “And is that true? Would you refuse to go with her, Felicia?”

  “I do not know. If she had kept our agreement I suppose I would be the dutiful daughter and accompany her to Lycenium, even though I know I should hate it. I would die a thousand deaths a day in that atmosphere of frivolity, while here is where I long to be. But as she is breaking that agreement, I do not feel I have to keep it either!”

  “But where would you go? You can not hide in Solo
ne, for someone would find you. You can not return to Valerium for the persecution there. You do not have a choice but to return with your mother.”

  Felicia’s eyes gazed off into the distance as Xanthe presented her options, or rather, the lack of them. As the other girl spoke, she weighed her options, and came to the realization that all was not lost: she had one more option available to her. A smile crept slowly across her face, and she turned with an air of triumph to face her friend.

  “You are wrong, Xanthe. There is a place I can go. A place where I may be able to both pursue my training as a prophet, and to put my gift to very good use. Very good use indeed.”

  Chapter XXVIII

  Flight From Solone

  Had it not been for Xanthe, she could not have done it. She it was who knew every fisherman with a boat in Solone, and every way out of it, both secret and public.

  Felicia met her at the dock one morning before Kyrene had risen, letting herself out of the house quietly. She left a note for her mentor, thanking her for her hospitality and training, but wrote that in order to pursue her calling she must leave before her mother came to take her to Lycenium. She had one moment of regret when she left it, knowing that Tullia would be furious and blame Kyrene for her daughter’s flight.

  The thought brought a momentary wavering of her plan, but she knew she could not back out now. She left the note on the little table in the upstairs hallway, and then crept with as much stealth as she could muster to Kyrene’s door. She opened it slowly, grateful that Kyrene was so meticulous about oiling hinges, and that the door did not betray her with a creak. She looked through the crack of the opening at the woman who had been both strict and gentle with her these past months. Kyrene’s hair lay unbound and the tawny waves streamed around her face with a freedom so like the spirit of the woman they adorned.

  She should have been my mother, Felicia mused before she could stifle the disloyal thought. We are alike, she and I, far more so than my mother and I will ever be.

  She took her leave of Kyrene with one long look, and silently blew a kiss through the door; then she closed it gently as though closing the chapter in a book. She edged carefully down the stairs and out the front door. Ahead of her lay freedom; from this day on her life was her own and not the scheduled regimen of social frivolity that her mother would lay out for her.

  The ship plowed through the waves as friskily as a dolphin leaping in frolic. What a joy to be free at last! Felicia could not believe it; it still had not completely penetrated her understanding.

  She did not fear any want; her father sent her an allowance regularly, most of it unspent as she had few needs. She had given some to the local poor, aghast at the sight of their suffering. The rest of it she had saved in case the need ever arose to use it.

  No, she did not fear anything for her adventure had begun at last! She had carefully mapped out her course, and after this ship took her through the last of the Isles of Solone they would enter the strait that took them into true ocean. She stood at the deck looking back at Solone.

  What a sight it was, with steep cliffs of varying colors, the remnants of the eruption that had splintered it from one island so long ago. In the pale light of dawn a faint rosy glow encircled it, and Felicia thought of how happy she had been the months that she spent here. Would she ever see it again? And Kyrene? Would she ever see her mentor again?

  She could not know that her own father had pondered on these very thoughts when he left the Isles of Solone and his mentor Xenon behind him so long ago.

  They would stop for a respite at the shores of Florindia, the Captain informed the passengers. They needed to restock their provisions of food, and it would be good to feel land under their feet again.

  Felicia did not care to stop, indeed, would have preferred to continue straight on to her destination. But the decision was not hers to make.

  Once they arrived at Florindia, however, she was delighted that they had done so; for never had she seen such a fair land. The April day was glorious, and the country upon which she looked was adorned with flowers of every kind imaginable, growing all the way down to the shore itself, leaving very little coastline. She had never seen its like.

  When they disembarked to go ashore for the day, she luxuriated in the aroma of flowers that wafted across the shore. Was that roses that she smelled, and lilac? It was too early for their blooming in Valerium, but the land was warmer here and the delights of the spring season already abounded.

  She lingered for a deep whiff; then hastened to the local market. How she longed for some fresh fruit! It was true that the food on board was monotonous in its dreary repetition; the crew having taken only what would best keep for a lengthy voyage. But she soon abandoned the idea of the fruit stall when she saw the glory of the floral displays that stretched the length of a city block.

  “What shall you have, dearie,” an old woman at the first stall she patronized inquired of her. “I have lilac for heartache, roses to win your true love, violets for secrets, and lavender for healing. Of course, there are also hydrangeas for ambition, see how high they climb! and tulips for beauty, none lovelier! Jasmine will grant you power, but be careful how you use it; for some have come to a grievous end by the aid of it.”

  Felicia marveled. What magic was this? And was it good or evil?

  “Why, what do you mean?” she asked.

  “What will you have? Do you have need of anything? Take the flower of your choice to bring your heart’s desire. Take it, clasp it to your heart, and the good Floris will grant you whatever you wish.”

  The old woman gave Felicia a crafty look, and slyly inspected her apparel, to ascertain whether her young patroness might be able to pay the required fee.

  “Oh, do you mean like a talisman; something that will bring me luck?” Felicia inquired.

  Such a thing was forbidden by Dominio, she knew. Yet the thought was intriguing: take the flower of your choice to grant your heart’s desire. If only life were truly that easy!

  “But of course!” the old woman cackled in a distinctly unpleasant voice. “It is that simple; buy your flower to have your wish granted. Now what shall it be?”

  Felicia hesitated only for a moment. She knew that such a thing was forbidden, the practice of carrying a talisman being akin to witchcraft indeed. After a moment of consideration, she made up her mind.

  “I shall have none of it!” she declared. “For such a thing is wicked, and does not bring the hoped for desire. You must repent of such evil and turn to Dominio who will grant you the desires that He deems good for you!”

  The old woman drew in her breath indignantly, but the young girl at the next stall turned with curious eyes to Felicia.

  “Dominio?” she asked. “Who is He? Is He a god like Floris? For we revere only Floris in this land, yet I have heard that there are many gods.”

  “No!” Felicia cried. “There are no other gods! There is only One true God, and Dominio is His name! You were made to know Him, that is the source of your desires and the secret longings of your heart. Do you not feel it, that yearning for something more, more than what you have ever beheld with your eyes? For who has not wept in secret for what, they can not say at times. Yet, there is something, something in us that cries out for more than what we know. And it is this: to know Dominio, and to love Him as we were meant to know Him, from the foundation of the world.”

  By now a small crowd had gathered around Felicia, some curious, others seeming pierced to the heart by her words.

  “Oh, yes!” cried one young girl. “It is as you say: I have felt something here, here where no one else has ever been admitted. It is not the yearning for a lover, but the yearning to be loved. It is this which makes me wake in the night and cry out for I know not what.”

  “Yes, it is this!” Felicia proclaimed. “And I shall tell you how to satisfy that longing.”

  It did not take her long to tell the women, young and old, the Good News of Alexandros, and his coming to rescue mankind
.

  “It is He who is our true Champion, our Hero,” she whispered with reverence. “For who could resist One who would die to save you? Not I!” she said.

  “Nor I!”

  “Nor I!”

  All over the square they came, besieging Felicia with questions, some praying with her on the spot, others resisting, needing time to think it over.

  “Yet I would not take too much time to think it over,” she warned. “For life is short and who can say when you may be called into eternity. And after you enter Hades there is no going back.”

  Felicia spent the next few hours with several young women who gave their pledge to serve Dominio and advance His Kingdom of Heaven. She taught them all that she could remember, and prayed that Dominio would send someone who could teach them more.

  They promised to remember all that she had said, and to serve Dominio and Him alone. Yet Felicia fretted at the thought of leaving them. She knew that what she shared would not stay with them long if there were none to reinforce the teaching, for they would forget it as quickly as the rain dries in the heat of the sun. And in a pagan culture such as this, how could they remain faithful for long?

  Chapter XXIX

  The Cove

  The boat sailed on and as the voyage continued Felicia felt an increasing sense of freedom. The experience in Florindia had heartened her with the response of the women to the Good News. Now if only Dominio would send someone to help with the work there!

  On the third day at sea the waters grew choppy and the rhythm of the boat became rough, making standing difficult. Felicia nearly slipped and fell when a rogue wave slopped over the aft deck and soaked it as she stood admiring the view. She was drenched by the spray of water and gasped at the suddenness of the shower. Then she laughed and shook out her wet robe. Only at sea could such an occurrence take place; how she loved having her own adventure at last!