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

  “I fear she will never let me marry you, Antonius.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes: how strange that she, who never thought to marry, should fear that the young man of her choice would be denied her!

  They were strolling by the river that ran parallel to the city, and he looked at the reflection of the trees that grew near its edge. He seemed to meditate, lost in his thoughts, as he gazed into the water rippling in the soft morning breeze, as if he would find an answer to her question within its depths. He did not speak for some time, and Felicia began to worry that he might say something she would not be able to bear.

  “Well,” he said at last. “You are to honor your mother and father; so if either of them objects to our betrothal, then we can not wed. It would break my heart, but you would have to obey.”

  “No, Antonius! I would not let them part us! They have already taken me from my school where I would have been trained as a prophet: they can not interfere in my personal happiness as well.”

  And she stamped her foot hard on the ground, as if to emphasize the depth of her passion. Suddenly, she turned to him and grabbed his hands.

  “Please, Antonius: let us marry right away! We can go to the priest and have him marry us. Then when my parents return they will find they have not lost a daughter but gained a son!”

  Antonius raised a hand to object, but she grabbed it and kissed it. She clung to him and pleaded. They were so right for each other; would it not be wrong for her mother to part them?

  It was not long before Antonius agreed to her plan. After all, he said, he and his parents were frequent guests at the Maximus home. Was it really possible that in view of his friendship with their son, they would object to his marriage to their daughter?

  The June night was warm and punctuated with the last trills of the songbirds, which seemed to have stayed up late to serenade the newly married couple. Twilight had descended and the last lingering rays of daylight were soon quenched by the soft darkness that fell with a sudden rapidity and enveloped them in a cloak of black velvet. Overhead the moon beamed with a silvery glow as if bestowing its blessing on their union.

  Felicia and Antonius faced each other as the priest bound their hands together. They took their vows to serve Dominio and to love one another. Antonius smiled at her with the same dazzled gaze he had shed upon her at their first meeting, and she faced him with the triumphant air of one who has won victory over a hard-contested opponent. They exchanged rings: Antonius gave her a delicate ring of silver and gold entwined together, and she gave him the ring of mother of pearl she had bought from Bimo’s daughter.

  She gazed at it as she presented it to him and found it particularly fitting: the ring of pearl represented the Kingdom of Heaven, and the three strands twisted together symbolized themselves entwined with Dominio in one unbroken cord. She had shown it to him before the ceremony, and informed him of its special blessing.

  “Take this, Anthony,” she had whispered softly, “and know that whoever wears it will be specially protected by Dominio. And there is no one I would wish to have it more than you, my love.”

  Now as they faced each other for the bridal kiss, Felicia had one thought uppermost in her mind.

  How surprised, she mused, her parents would be when they heard of her marriage!

  Chapter IX

  Danger In the Forest

  They sped along in the dark of night; not a moment could be spared if they were to be successful in tracking their quarry. They took the great road that wound from Lycenium in the Mountains of Moldiva, through the vast forest regions inhabited by the fierce barbarians who lay in wait for unwary travelers, to the golden shores of Golida.

  The journey before them would be fraught with danger, Lucius knew, and he did not relish the thought. Though he would hate to be branded a coward, he lacked the physical courage of his father, who was a soldier at heart if not one in actual fact.

  Tullia wasted little time in conversation, all of her energies concentrated on re-claiming the fabulous Sword that was her husband’s one remaining legacy from the wreck of all they had known in Valerium. Outwardly, she spoke no condemning word that might hurt Lucius: inwardly, she fumed at the recklessness of her son in his careless handling of so great a treasure. For a brief instant she found herself wishing that her son was as devout as her daughter; then this theft would never have happened. For Felicia would not have taken the Sword without her father’s knowledge or permission.

  Then she thought of her daughter’s disobedience in running away from the school of her mentor in order to pursue her own course, regardless of the wishes of her mother and the distress she brought to Kyrene. She thought of her husband’s enforced departure to Eirinia to search for the girl, and thought wryly that both of her children left much to be desired.

  O Dominio, she silently prayed, grant me success in my quest. I must bring Logos back to Marcus. It is not his fault that it was lost; it is entirely due to Lucius. Forgive me if I failed in the way I brought him up; I did the best that I could. But please, help me find the Sword!

  Their carriage rattled through the narrow mountain passes that ringed Lycenium, the clatter of the wheels echoing unnervingly in the quiet stillness. Every sharp turn made Tullia catch her breath; the passes were usually taken with the utmost care but she had no time for slow and deliberate caution. Time was slipping through her hands and every moment took Logos farther away…

  She dozed fitfully, reluctant to stop at inns for rest. She had instructed their driver, Cyriacus, to drive straight through the night. She was startled, therefore, when the carriage came to an abrupt halt shortly before dawn, so abruptly that the sudden cessation threw her forward in her seat.

  Cyriacus appeared at her window and knocked on it. Tullia opened the door so quickly that he nearly fell over.

  “What is the matter, Cyriacus? Why have we stopped? I ordered you to keep going,” she inquired abruptly in a tone that lacked her usual courtesy.

  Cyriacus bowed but looked her steadily in the eye.

  “I beg your pardon, lady,” he answered. “The horses are nearly fainting with exhaustion: the foam is frothing from their mouths and their pace is slowing as their legs tire. They need to rest or they will go lame.

  “There is an inn in this village, and if we would have a brief respite, they should be able to continue the journey.”

  Tullia sighed in exasperation. Then her conscience smote her. How thoughtless of others her haste had made her!

  “I apologize, good Cyriacus,” she rued. “You must be exhausted yourself. We shall go to this inn and all of us rest for a few hours.”

  She roused Lucius from his slumber and they alit from the carriage and entered a small but comfortable inn. The proprietor was surprised to see travelers arrive in the small hours of the morning. Tullia judged it to be about three hours before daybreak. She asked for two rooms for herself and Lucius: Cyriacus would be given the customary sleeping quarters above the stable that was reserved for coachmen.

  She instructed Cyriacus to meet them at seven o’clock, when they would break their fast and continue their journey. She had not realized how weary she was until she climbed the stairs to her room, feeling her legs a dead weight that made every step seem an eternity to complete. She entered her room and did not even pause to remove her robe, but stumbled across the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

  When Tullia woke, she was startled to see that it was later than she had meant to rise. She judged by the position of the sun to be about half past eight, and immediately sprang up to wash her hands and face before donning a clean robe. Abandoning her usual stately walk as became a patrician matron of Valerium, she scrambled down the stairs and found her son waiting for her in the common room.

  Lucius shot her a rueful look, and announced that he had already broken his fast with Cyriacus.

  “Why did you not wake me?” she demanded. “I told you we would meet at seven o’clock, the faster to be on our way!”

  “I
am sorry, Mother, but you seemed so weary and I thought you needed the rest,” Lucius soothed. “You shall feel better for the sleep; and we shall overtake the Fabius’ in no time!”

  Tullia grabbed Lucius by the arm and dragged him out of earshot of the others assembled in the common room. Then she upbraided her son for the first time in his life.

  “I can sleep in the carriage. And I shall not feel ‘better’ as you state it, until the Sword that your carelessness allowed to be stolen is safely returned to your father! Do not keep trying my patience, Lucius; or you will discover that you are not too old to be punished severely for the heartache you have caused me.

  “As for overtaking the Fabius’, you had better pray that we do. For if I can not find Logos, it will go ill with you, my son. And I do not mean with just myself and your father. Have you thought about the consequences you will incur from Dominio if the Sword entrusted to your father with a sacred charge fell into the wrong hands, never to be returned?”

  Lucius grew pale and his gray eyes widened in his handsome face until they seemed the largest feature he possessed. Tullia did not wait for his reply, but whirled around and strode rapidly through the room.

  “Come; I can take something to eat along the way. It is time we continued our journey. I will not waste any more time, for every moment is vital to the success of our quest.”

  There was something about the forest that made Lucius increasingly uneasy. Always having preferred the city to a rural existence, he was not fond of trees to start with, and this forest was so dense that he wondered if they should ever come to the end of it. So thick was it that the sun was filtered to a faint beam of light. Here and there it dappled a small clearing, which in this forest meant a cluster of only five or six trees standing together instead of dozens presenting an unbroken wall that climbed to the sky.

  Tullia did not seem to fear the forest; her thought was entirely bent on her mission of regaining Logos. Lucius wondered if she was still angry with him. He did not like to dwell on her words regarding Dominio, for fear that Dominio truly was even angrier with him than his mother was. If he incurred the wrath of Dominio…

  It had been three days since they broke their journey at the inn. They were now far from civilization and had no choice but to sleep in the carriage. Cyriacus, however, pulled the carriage off the road at night and sheltered them in a cluster of trees that grew well back from the gaze of any who happened to pass by.

  It was not safe, he cautioned, to rest on the road. The forest was home to fierce barbarians who resented the relentless rule of Valerium, and who thought nothing of making sport with any of its hapless citizens who found themselves at their mercy on the road. His words made Tullia cast an apprehensive glance about her, but she said nothing.

  Their first night in the vast forest passed without incident; the only sounds to be heard were the chirping of spring peepers, the occasional croaking of tree frogs, and the soft rustle of grass beneath the feet of small animals that scampered through their domain. Lucius was finally able to relax as the peace of the sylvan stillness seeped through him, a peace that seemed lacking in the city. He slept soundly and woke in the morning refreshed and eager to be on the way. They journeyed on as fast as the horses could carry them, and the trees ran together in a blur as the carriage sped on in its urgent haste.

  On the second night Lucius’ slumber was rudely interrupted by the sound of shouts nearby. Tullia was startled out of her sleep at the same moment and they stared at one another in alarm, her face pale with anxiety, his eyes grown wide with a fear he would not admit. Cyriacus was dozing on the footrest at the back of the carriage; he suddenly popped his face in the window and yanked open the door.

  “We must be on our way,” he exclaimed. “There is a band of strange men approaching. They have left the road and shall soon find our shelter.”

  He closed the door abruptly and scrambled to his seat when they spied a group of strangely dressed men who erupted into shouts at the sight of their carriage. Their rough attire of coarse cloth and heavy boots lined with fur only spurred the fear that Lucius felt stirring in his heart.

  Why could he not be brave like his father, he thought. If only he did not feel this debilitating helplessness that threatened to overwhelm him in the face of danger!

  Before Cyriacus could spur the frightened horses onward, the barbarians quickly surrounded the carriage. One of them grabbed the reins of the horses as another pulled open the door.

  Tullia managed to remain calm and as the barbarian reached for her she brought up the heavy parcel containing her clothes and hit him full in the face with it. He cried out and clutched his bleeding nose. Another barbarian attempted to enter the carriage but Tullia grabbed the handle and slammed the door shut on his hand, evoking a scream of agony from the wounded man.

  Lucius roared with laughter at the sight of his elegant and dignified mother inflicting bodily harm on a pair of wild barbarians.

  Tullia did not waste time in joining her son’s laughter but shot him a withering look that quenched the flow of his mirth. He straightened up and attempted to open the door to aid Cyriacus. He could not open the door due to the press of men who now surrounded them to impede their flight.

  “Quickly, Lucius! We must pray for Dominio to send us aid!” Tullia cried as she clutched his hands.

  They bowed their hands and prayed fervently.

  “O good Dominio,” Tullia whispered, “please send us help that we may escape these men and continue our journey. They are too many for us and there is no one to come to our aid!”

  Lucius agreed with her prayer, but was reluctant to voice one of his own. It had slowly been borne home to him that Dominio might indeed be very angry with him for the loss of Logos. So he contented himself with bowing his head to agree with Tullia.

  Barely had they finished their prayer when they heard thunder, distantly at first, and then directly over their heads. The heavy boom was startling in both its power and unexpected onslaught. The skies burst open without warning as rain teemed down from the heavens. They heard the shrieks of the barbarians, who were quickly drenched in the downpour. A sizzling sound was heard nearby, and a bolt of lightning split the darkness and lit up the sky with the brightness of midday.

  The lightning proved too much for the barbarians and they ran for the shelter of their own crude huts in another quarter of the forest. Tullia and Lucius laughed to see their hasty flight.

  Tullia suddenly remembered Cyriacus and opened the door to bid him to enter the carriage and shelter with them until the rain ended. It was not long before the storm passed through and they were safe to continue on their way.

  Tullia turned to Lucius with a smile of gratification illuminating her still beautiful face.

  “Dominio sent the storm for our protection,” she announced. “You must remember that, my son. He will always hear and answer us, as long as we do nothing to grieve His heart.”

  Chapter X

  Encounter In Golida

  Lucius exhaled long and deeply when they at last left the forest behind them and found themselves in civilization once more. He did not relish adventure as his sister did, and the encounter with the barbarians did nothing to change his attitude on that matter.

  They were entering the city of Golida, situated most pleasingly on the golden sands that stretched to the shores of the great Sea. This was the outermost post of the Valeriun Empire, and Lucius felt a sudden thrill of pride as he beheld it. For Golida was not a city built of iron to protect its power as was the Imperial capital Potentus, nor a city where commerce mingled with culture like Lycenium.

  Golida was constructed entirely of the purest pink marble, built on the whim of the Emperor Herminius to please his wife, Iulia. She loved the sea more than anything in the world, but fretted at the mean quarters she was forced to endure when they traveled to the shore on holiday. Herminius loved her deeply and wished to cheer her.

  He engaged the finest workmen in the Empire to transform
the dreary little seaport of Golida into a place of exquisite beauty. For two years they carved towering edifices from the blocks of rosy marble transported over many miles from the region of Berista, where the finest marble in the known world was to be found. Soon they had created a place of incomparable loveliness that elicited sighs of rapture from those who beheld it for the first time.

  As they entered the gates of the city, Lucius found himself captivated at the sight that met his eyes. Everywhere he looked the pale pink marble structures caught the rays of the morning sun and reflected it brilliantly, adding to their own luster as a golden glow shimmered through the rosy illumination. The streets were cobbled with smooth black stones that proved an elegant contrast to the pastel glory of the buildings. Walkways of black marble paved the way for the casual stroller who might wish to explore the hidden delights of the city.

  All commerce was conducted outside the city gates; fishermen and merchants bringing goods into the city were forbidden to hawk their wares within its walls, and those who wished to do trade with them must do so at the stalls that dotted the beach. Golida was a place meant for escape from the cares of everyday life. Travelers came to savor the sun and swim in the sea, but also to soak in the mineral waters that were abundant in the region.

  Several bath houses had been constructed for this purpose. They differed from those found in Valerium in the fact that those in Golida were intended for healing and refreshment and not merely for the practical use of washing away the grime of daily living. The elite traveled to Golida for the purpose of pampering themselves in her environs. There were bath houses, and establishments where wealthy matrons could indulge in beautification by way of mineral masks that revived the complexion, and take discreet exercise in the salons erected for this purpose in a manner they could not have done in Valerium, where everyone’s movements were quickly made known to others.